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Otter Quest!
Aug. 30th, 2019 11:10 am30 August-28 September 1989
Just as I finish one travelog, here begins another! Thirty years ago this very minute, I began an epic journey to attend the V. International Otter Colloquium in Hankensbüttel, West Germany. At the time, I was a 'rising star' in otter research, and this would be my professional debut at an academic meeting on the subject. After the conference, I would venture on to the Netherlands, England, celebrate my 35th birthday in Scotland, then return to England and home. This was the first and only time I traveled abroad on my own, and in many ways, it was the peak experience of my entire lifetime.
My basic trip itinerary was:
Transit: 30-31 August 1989
Celle, West Germany: 31 August
Räderloh, West Germany: 1-8 September
Rotterdam, The Netherlands: 8-9 September
London: 10-14 September
Skipton, Yorkshire: 14-17 September
Glasgow, Scotland: 17-18 September
Mingarry Park, Scotland: 18-19 September
Letterfearn, Scotland: 19-21 September
Sandaig, Scotland: 21 September
Kyleakin, Scotland: 21-23 September
Acharacle, Scotland: 23-25 September
Glasgow again: 25 September
Manchester, England: 26-27 September
Return: 27-28 September
As in 1969, I kept mementos and a diary of my travels, but unfortunately, with the latter, my scribblings were written in a ledger book and were comingled with all of the financial transactions I recorded while I was away. Thus jumbled, they don't form a contiguous narrative like the contents my little spiral notebook from 20 years previous, and consequently, I've judged them not worthy of reproducing here. (I will transcribe them verbatim from time to time, however.)
30-31 August 1989
Took off from Arcata Airport at 1110 on 30 August, flying United. After a long delay at SFO, I flew British Airways to Heathrow and Frankfurt, then Lufthansa to Hanover.
My most distinct memory of the air leg of my trip was the layover at Frankfurt am Main Airport. Terrorism was apparently already a major concern, as I saw guards repeatedly patrolling the terminal carrying military-issue automatic weapons. That was a lit-tle scary. Also, when I briefly left my carry-ons to go look at a kiosk that had actual spy equipment for sale, an elderly man nearby *freaked out*, raised his voice at me and gesticulated at my belongings. Fortunately, I understood a little German, so I got the message that I mustn't ever leave my baggage unattended. Security might suspect it contained a bomb, and confiscate and destroy it. Yikes! We didn't get paranoid about things like that in the US until after 9/11, but strict anti-terrorist procedures were in full force in Germany even back in the Eighties.
After arriving at Hanover, the taxi driver took me for a doubtless intentional roundabout ride to my destination of Celle. I had looked at a road map ahead of time and committed the most direct route to memory, but that's not the way the cabbie went. What should have been a 40-minute drive tops on a highway took almost an hour on some very twisty, dark (and smelly) rural roads. Despite the fact that he inflated the fare like that, I gave him a good tip, anyway. He was a friendly chap and impressed that I could converse a little in German.
I really liked my room at the "Ringhotel Celler Tor." Very modern and well-appointed. I turned on the TV to relax before bedtime, and saw on the news a story about "Televangelisten Jim und Tammy Bakker." I was surprised and a bit dismayed at the now-obvious fact that I couldn't escape US tabloid shit-reporting even in rural Germany! Then, finally, after 27 hours of travel, I climbed into bed for a long, well-deserved sleep.
Just as I finish one travelog, here begins another! Thirty years ago this very minute, I began an epic journey to attend the V. International Otter Colloquium in Hankensbüttel, West Germany. At the time, I was a 'rising star' in otter research, and this would be my professional debut at an academic meeting on the subject. After the conference, I would venture on to the Netherlands, England, celebrate my 35th birthday in Scotland, then return to England and home. This was the first and only time I traveled abroad on my own, and in many ways, it was the peak experience of my entire lifetime.
My basic trip itinerary was:
Transit: 30-31 August 1989
Celle, West Germany: 31 August
Räderloh, West Germany: 1-8 September
Rotterdam, The Netherlands: 8-9 September
London: 10-14 September
Skipton, Yorkshire: 14-17 September
Glasgow, Scotland: 17-18 September
Mingarry Park, Scotland: 18-19 September
Letterfearn, Scotland: 19-21 September
Sandaig, Scotland: 21 September
Kyleakin, Scotland: 21-23 September
Acharacle, Scotland: 23-25 September
Glasgow again: 25 September
Manchester, England: 26-27 September
Return: 27-28 September
As in 1969, I kept mementos and a diary of my travels, but unfortunately, with the latter, my scribblings were written in a ledger book and were comingled with all of the financial transactions I recorded while I was away. Thus jumbled, they don't form a contiguous narrative like the contents my little spiral notebook from 20 years previous, and consequently, I've judged them not worthy of reproducing here. (I will transcribe them verbatim from time to time, however.)
30-31 August 1989
Took off from Arcata Airport at 1110 on 30 August, flying United. After a long delay at SFO, I flew British Airways to Heathrow and Frankfurt, then Lufthansa to Hanover.
My most distinct memory of the air leg of my trip was the layover at Frankfurt am Main Airport. Terrorism was apparently already a major concern, as I saw guards repeatedly patrolling the terminal carrying military-issue automatic weapons. That was a lit-tle scary. Also, when I briefly left my carry-ons to go look at a kiosk that had actual spy equipment for sale, an elderly man nearby *freaked out*, raised his voice at me and gesticulated at my belongings. Fortunately, I understood a little German, so I got the message that I mustn't ever leave my baggage unattended. Security might suspect it contained a bomb, and confiscate and destroy it. Yikes! We didn't get paranoid about things like that in the US until after 9/11, but strict anti-terrorist procedures were in full force in Germany even back in the Eighties.
After arriving at Hanover, the taxi driver took me for a doubtless intentional roundabout ride to my destination of Celle. I had looked at a road map ahead of time and committed the most direct route to memory, but that's not the way the cabbie went. What should have been a 40-minute drive tops on a highway took almost an hour on some very twisty, dark (and smelly) rural roads. Despite the fact that he inflated the fare like that, I gave him a good tip, anyway. He was a friendly chap and impressed that I could converse a little in German.
I really liked my room at the "Ringhotel Celler Tor." Very modern and well-appointed. I turned on the TV to relax before bedtime, and saw on the news a story about "Televangelisten Jim und Tammy Bakker." I was surprised and a bit dismayed at the now-obvious fact that I couldn't escape US tabloid shit-reporting even in rural Germany! Then, finally, after 27 hours of travel, I climbed into bed for a long, well-deserved sleep.
