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Düsseldorf and the Vicinity
  • Tom Banks

Düsseldorf and the Vicinity

Et 59-dags eventyr af Tom Læs mere
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    4. juni 2015
    Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Wuppertal

    4. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ 🌙 18 °C

    Thursday was a bank holiday in Germany, so I took a train to meet a friend in Wuppertal. By train, from Düsseldorf Bilk, it took 36 minutes to get there - so no time at all. And that includes transferring train at Düsseldorf Hauptbahnhof, and stopping a hundred million times at little stations between Düsseldorf and Wuppertal.

    So I get off the train at Wuppertal Hauptbahnhof, and breath in a deep breath of clean air. For Wuppertal is a city completely surrounded by dense woodland. It is a large city; long and thin, it is spread out on either bank of the river Wupper. Because of the river, and because of the hills and woodland, Wuppertal doesn't have much of a city feel.

    The pace of life is quite slow, but that perhaps has something to do with it being a bank holiday and the temperature stifling. Most of the population of Wuppertal seemed to be sat in the park eating ice cream, and I was happy to join them in doing so.

    It has all the charms of Heidelberg, but doesn't have the fronzen-in-time downsides. It's a real, working city and I like it.

    P.S. The Schwebebahn is incredibly unique, and is utterly central to the city - everything seems to revolve about it. For that reason, it warrants a blog entry of its own, and so has got one.    Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Wuppertaler Schwebebahn

    4. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ 🌙 18 °C

    The Wuppertaler Schwebebahn, have you ever seen anything like it? Built in 1898 and opened in 1901, I think it's testament to how ingenuous and inventive the world was at the turn of the last century.

    The line, for most of its duration, straddles the river Wupper, weaving along and between the city. It's quite a ride; although not if you don't like heights. The whole thing wobbles from side to side quite a bit, so you really do have to have the disposition for it. Still, isn't it something though? So completely unique!    Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Wuppertal Hardtanglage

    4. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ 🌙 18 °C

    The Hardtanglage is a park on a hill in Wuppertal, overlooking the city centre. I spent most of the day sat in the park there, eating ice cream. Everyone else, it seemed, had the same idea.

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks
    2

    Engels' House

    4. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ 🌙 18 °C

    The thing that most surprised me about Karl Marx's home town was that it was his home town. When I visited Trier a few years ago, I couldn't believe how such a place could have bred such a mind. Trier -- surrounded as it is by vineyards and think, pine forest -- seemed to me to be an unlikely birth place of the most influential man of the past 1000 years. The only person disturbing the peace was a Jehovah's Witness handing out leaflets on a bridge over the Moselle. Everyone else was calm and peaceful, going about their lives in the little German town just nine miles form the Luxembourg border.

    Visiting Wuppertal today, though, I can quite easily see how it was the home of Engels. It was Manchester that politicised Engels, but there is evidence in Wuppertal of why a man growing up there would be sympathetic to the interests of the working man. Because by the middle of the 19th century, Wuppertal was home to a thriving textile industry. Today, there are still many little brick chimneys poking up from between the opulent houses that the cotton helped to pay for.

    In the square in front of the house, is a statue of Engels, with text engraved in both German and Chinese - for it was a gift from the Chinese government. At the side of the house is a large memorial to Manchester. Truly, the influence of Engels has spread across the entire globe. Yet he is very rarely given his due. But, together with Marx, the pair of them are without a doubt the most influential philosophers of all time. How relevant, then, that it was them wrote the following:

    "The philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways. The point, however, is to change it"    Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Colourful Bilk

    6. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ ☀️ 22 °C

    Bilk is colourful, overwhelmingly colourful. I've tried to capture some of that colour, but its hard to do in just six photos. The buildings; the cafés overspilling on to the street; the fruit stalls of oranges, watermelons, applets, strawberries. Everywhere you go, ever corner you turn, there is colour. The sun is out, it's a hundred-million degrees, and everything is drenched in light. Colour, heat, colour.Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Pentair

    6. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ ☀️ 22 °C

    Christine, Paddy, what's going on? Just around the corner from my house is a Pentair van, am I being followed or what? The powers that be are hunting me down! I can run, but I can't hide.

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Konrad der Kaktus

    6. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ ☀️ 22 °C

    My first weekend in Germany! I can't believe it hasn't even been a week yet. This time last week, I was in Rotterdam. How much longer ago it actually feels.

    I was out late last night (the Altstadt is amazing), so slept in till about ten. When I finally rose, I was forced in to doing my laundry. What, with being completely out of socks, there was nothing else I could do. So that took about an hour, and I'm pretty sure I've shrank everything. I daren't yet find out, though.

    There are lots of other important things I need I to sort out; a bank account, for example. I must also register my address, get a national insurance number, et cetera. The list is quite long. But today I went out in search of a cactus. Priorities, you see.

    So where exactly does a man find a cactus in Düsseldorf? I had a quick search on google, and found a few garden centres scattered about the city. The nearest one to me was a mile or two south from Bilk. I committed the route to memory and set off.

    I shouldn't have done that. I really need to get myself a map or something Because Düsseldorf isn't like other cities. It is incredibly easy to get lost here. Overshoot a street, or undershoot it, and you are done for. Take a wrong turn, forget it. Once lost, you are lost.

    So I was wandering round trying to find this garden centre, but getting no where. Eventually I had to admit it, I was lost. I came across this pub with a few people sat outside. And because I was lost, because walking in the heat was making me a bit sticky, I headed inside for a beer and to inquire about directions.

    The woman behind the bar was busy carving up a pie of some sort. But, upon seeing me enter, she stopped what she was doing and asked what I wanted.

    'Ein Bier, bitte,' I said, 'und wo kann ich eine Kaktus kaufen?'

    I came across a bit strange, I'm sure.

    'Ein Kaktus?'

    'Ja.'

    'Ein Kaktus?'

    'Ja, ein Kaktus.'

    She had a think for a little while and then was all like, 'Links, rechts, links, rechts.' Left, right, left, right, she was saying, like a German Hokey Cokey. I was never going to remember it all, but at least I knew which vague direction to head in. I drank the beer (the beer here in Dusseldorf -- Altbier -- is a dark brown, with a huge head. Quite nice). I cooled down a bit, and headed back out in to the heat.

    After another 20 minutes of wandering, I found the garden centre. It was heaving. I made my way through the crowd at the marigolds and located the Cacti. Immediately, a big one jumped out at me, but at 89 Euros he had another thing coming if he thought I was going to pay that much for him. There was a little, unassuming one in front of this big show-off. And he was on sale for 1.50. I'll have him, I thought. I found him a friend and took them both over to the till. I was three Euros lighter, but I now had two cacti.

    Konrad, I'm going to call him. Konrad der Kaktus. His friend is a little weird looking, so I'm calling him Weird Willy. Willy as in Willy Brandt - although he does happen to be a bit willy shaped too.

    Konrad was parched, the poor thing. I gave him and Weird Willy a bit of water, then set them down on their shelf. Welcome to your new home boys. Should anyone so much as lay a finger on you, they will first feel a sharp prick and then have my wrath to deal with. A big responsibility, but I promise to water you both one or perhaps twice a year. You're in safe hands.    Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Rheydt, Mönchengladbach

    8. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ ⛅ 15 °C

    Rheydt was, at one point, a town in its own right. But overtime it grew. Eventually, its borders merged with Gladbach's, and the two became indistinguishable from one another.

    I work in Rheydt on a street called the Stockholtweg, which runs parallel along the perimeter of the densely wooded Zoppenbroicher park. From the first floor office, there are great views of the park. Calling it a park though, I think, is somewhat misleading; the tress are so densely packed together as to make the area impenetrable.

    I've taken to catching the train to work instead of driving. I find the whole 'driving on the other side of the road' thing quite easy. But Düsseldorf is a whole different kettle of fish.

    The train is great, though. 80 Euros for a months pass. And I can go anywhere within the region and take a friend, for free, on any train, tram or bus during the weekend. The views, too, on the commute from Düsseldorf to Mönchengladbach are spectacular. The terrain is uncannily flat, there are old windmills everywhere, there are miles of dense pine forest, and clearings of farmland and allotments. We are, after all, 15 to 20 miles from the Dutch border. The flatness and windmills shouldn't come as too much of a surprise.

     When I get off the train at Rheydt, I have a ten minute walk from the Hauptbahnhof -- through the Mönchengladbach suburbs -- to the Stockholtweg. I brought my camera along with me today and took some pictures. For there is something I find fascinating about working class Germany.

    There is a eerie stillness, like there is less going on than there should be, a slight brooding. I think its because of the buildings. They look so ornate, with facades more suited to a Baroque palace somewhere east, in the old Habsburg lands. Imperial looking buildings built for the working class? A working class -- much like in Britain -- no longer needed, surplus to requirement? As I walk through the suburbs of working class Mönchengladbach, I can't help but feel there is, lurking behind the still walls, a Rosa Luxemburg or a Christopher Isherwood.    Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    The Apocalypse Tram

    9. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ 🌙 13 °C

    Düsseldorf is a well connected city. There is the S Bahn, the U Bahn, the trams and the buses. Getting about the city is easy. Then there is the location of the city itself. Nordrhein-Westfalen -- Germany's most populous and densely populated state -- is nearly twice the size of Wales, but has over double the population of London. 18 million people live here, and Düsseldorf is the capital. Trains come and go by the minute, hastily keeping the cities of Cologne, Bonn, Wuppertal, Dortmund, Duisburg, etc, well connected. Then there are trains, several times an hour, to the nearby Netherlands and Belgium. That is a real plus side to Düsseldorf.

    But then there is the downside to living in Düsseldorf, or at least a downside to living on BachStraße in Düsseldorf. For here we have to endue the apocalypse trams. You see, Düsseldorf has really new trams, new trams, trams, old trams, and really old trams. And then it has the oldest trams in the known universe. It just so happens that these trams (strange remnants, let over from when the universe was just a fraction-of-a-millionth-of-a-second-old) make their way down BachStraße every ten minutes. And they seem to run all night long, too.

    It makes sleeping hard. And I often find myself awaking at some godforsaken hour, thinking the world is about to end, only to realise it is one of the apocalypse trams slowly passing by.

    Despite being deafening loud, they are elusive and hard to photograph. I managed to catch one on camera as it was passing, but the quality isn't very good.    Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Schloss Benrath

    10. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ ⛅ 17 °C

    I went on a daytrip to Holland today. It was for work. And then later in the evening I visited Schloss Benrath. I really can’t complain.

    Schloss Benrath was built in the late 1700’s and sits on the bank of the Rhein a couple of miles south of Düsseldorf. It takes roughly about a year and half to get there on an apocalypse tram. Or, to be more precise, about 25 minutes. But that is a lot of time when you’re in a race against the setting sun.

    I got to Benrath at about 9m, so only had about an hour and a half to play with before darkness set in. I didn’t get a chance to see much of Benrtah, the town itself, or the enormous palace gardens, but both seemed really nice. Tonight, I was here just to see the palace.

    Pink, Baroque, lovely. The palace sits, raised slightly, in front of a circular, tree lined pond. Geese and goslings, ducks and ducklings swam about the pond, which reflected the pinkness of the palace and the pale orange of the retiring sun. There are two wings on either side of the palace, which curve about the perimeter of the pond.

    To the back of the palace is another pond; a long one that seems to stretch on forever. Here nature has been tamed and controlled, in a very French, ordered way. A mini Versailles. The lawns were full of people, sitting watching the world go by or walking their dogs. (One person, would you believe it, was walking a bear. A barking bear! I jumped, ever so slightly, when I saw that beast.)

    There is an Englischer Garten too, full of roses and tulips and other flowers I couldn’t put a name to. An Englischer Garten with tulips. You see, Mum, there really is no excuse.

    Then there was an orangerie, an enormous orangerie. I’m partial to an orange myself, but these lots must have taken it to a whole different level. The orangerie was larger than the actual palace itself.

    Schloss Benrath seems to get overlooked. It isn’t on most people’s radars. Whilst my spinach ravioli was cooking (two days down, six to go), I was studying the new Düsseldorf street plan map that I’d just bought. I was trying to figure out the best way to the palace, when a housemate walked in and offered to help me. ‘I’ve been once,’ they said, ‘but that was over ten years ago, and I was there only by accident’. That was coming from someone who had lived in Düsseldorf all their life. So we worked out the best way to get there, and off we went.

    It is worth remembering, though, that this is the Rhein land. Palaces here are a plenty. So if Benrath should fail to get the attention it deserves, it’s because it’s a small fish in a big pond. If you head south there are palaces and castles scattered across the entire landscape. I remember travelling from Koblenz to Strasbourg, and for much of that journey the train followed the Rhein. On both the French and the German side, there were palaces and castles and fortresses almost every 200 meters are so. This patch of land has, over the years, been fiercely thought over. Although watching the geese paddle around the Schloßweiher, you would never have thought so.    Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Ein Kafka Freitag

    12. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ ☀️ 27 °C

    As Tom Banks awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.

    I didn't really. But, as I went to bed on Thursday night, I fully expected to wake up on Friday with a nightmarish, kafkaesque day ahead of me. I had taken the day of work especially so that I could go and jump through the necessary German bureaucracy hoops. I was not expecting it to be easy.

    The first thing I had to do was go to there nearest Einwohnermeldeamt and register myself as residing at such an address. There are a number of these Einwohnermeldeamt offices scattered all across the city, each one relevant only to the residents of a particular neighbourhood. I searched google for the closet one to me, and scribed an X on my map (yes, I have finally found myself a Düsseldorf city map).

    I set off in to the 30 degree heat, searching for this buro, dreading the bureaucracy that lay ahead. It was a ten minute walk to the street the buro is on, and when I got to there, it wasn't obvious which building it was in. I had to do a bit of searching. But, eventually, I saw the government signage and paraphernalia, and knew I had arrived at the the correct building. I was a little surprised, then, to walk in and find myself in the middle of a buffet for Turkish woman. Out of about 25-30 people in the room, I was the only man, I was the only one not wearing a headscarf. Already something had gone wrong.

    'You are in the wrong room,' one of the women said to me, 'you must go upstairs to floor three.'

    I most definitely was in the wrong room, that's for sure. I took her advice and headed up to floor three. There, I had to sit in a room that reminded me of a doctors surgery; I had to press some buttons on a touch screen computer, which then in turn printed off a little piece of paper with a number on, and I then had to go and sit on a chair and wait for that number to be called out.

    My number was 430, and I watched the screen as it counted up to me, 425, 426, 427, 428, 429, me!

    Off I went, into the unknown, into the bureaucrats office. I heard the words, 'Guten tag,' for the first time since arriving in Germany, and I was instructed to sit down. I did so and handed over my passport. The woman then went about typing random stuff into her computer; typing in that really quick, loud, important way that that only secretaries know how to.

    And then we were done. Quick, easy and painless. She printed off a sheet with my address number thingy on and then started reaching about for something under her desk. 'Welcome to Düsseldorf,' she said whilst handing me what I thought was a pizza. Alas, it was just a box containing really useful information . But I was feeling hungry and needed some breakfast. I said 'auf wiedersehen,' for the first time since arriving here, and headed back out in to the heat. Next stop a bakery.

    After my Croissant, I had to walk for about 20 minutes to another civil service building (they are everywhere!), this one called a Finanzamt. There, I had to get myself a tax number. I got there and it was the same thing, same process. I sat down, waited my turn, got invited in to an office given a number and then that was that.

    Now what? Now I had to go and get another number from another civil service office - yes, another number from another civil service office! The number is called a Sozialversicherungsausweis, which, just for fun, you can try and pronounce. If you are good at it, why not try and pronounce 'Donaudampfschiffahrtsgesellschaftskapitänsmütze'? Donaudampfschiffahrtsgesellschaftskapitänsmütze means captains hat and Sozialversicherungsausweis basically means national insurance number. So yeah, after about 15 minutes of form filling I got my Sozialversicherungsausweis.

    Last thing last, I had to open a bank account at the Sparkasse. Surely, given that everything so far had go to plan, this would prove difficult and madly bureaucratic? But it didn't. It, too, proved easy and quick. And now it is half one, and I've achieved everything I need to achieve. Thank god for that.

    I'm going for a meal at 8pm in the Altstadt, but between then and now I have nothing to do. So why not wander around Düsseldorf for a bit and explore some of the neighbourhoods I'm unfamiliar with?    Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Königsallee

    12. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ ⛅ 26 °C

    The Königsallee is to Düsseldorf, what the Kurfürstendamm is to Berlin, what the Champs-Élysées is to Paris, or what Regent Street is to London. In other words, it isn't just the main high street (high street for 'high-end' brands) but also a cultural centre point and meeting place within the city.

    The Königsallee -- affectionately referred to as the Kö -- isn't really one street, but two. They run parallel with each other, separated by a tree lined canal . As far as I can tell, the canal is purely cosmetic, added to impress a feeling of class. But I don't really know. I only say that, because at the end of the Königsallee it just seems to stop. In any case, it's very nice. Every 100 meters or so there is a little bridge crossing it, where you can stand and contemplate life in Düsseldorf. The trees, the water, the bridges, all detract -- in a good way -- from the busyness of the high street.

    The shops on either side of the Königsallee are Gucci or Prada or some other such meaningless brand. It's for rich people. I guess if it weren't for the other activities that take place along the allee, it would be effectively a dead, sanitised playground for the wealthy. But the non-Gucci activities save it. Today, for example, running the whole length of the Königsallee were stall selling used books for three Euros, or beer, or chocolate, or Jazz vinyls and such stuff. It's a nice place, too, if you want so shelter from the 30 degree sun.    Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Some more of colourful Bilk

    12. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ ⛅ 24 °C

    There is only one adjective that can describe Bilk, and that is 'colourful'. It is extraordinarily colourful! I apologise for posting pictures of nothing but apex' of apartment buildings, but they are just so attractive to look at.

    It's a lively neighbourhood, with Greek, Italian, South African, Ethiopian, you-name-it type restaurants on every corner. And tables and chairs from cafes and bars pour out onto the pavement. Kiosks are open all night, and the dam apocalypse trams don't seem to stop either.

    Bilk reminds me a lot of Berlin and Barcelona, a cross between the two. And that can't be a bad thing - they are my two favourite cities. Did you hear that Joe? Bilk is a bit like Barcelona!    Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Die Altstadt

    12. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ ⛅ 24 °C

    Die Altstadt -- the old town -- is where people go of an evening. I've been several times before, but this afternoon was my first time there with a camera. I wouldn't dare take my camera after the sun goes down. For what is strange about the Altstadt is how it can go from being the quiet, peaceful old part of Düsseldorf in the day, to the scene of debauchery that it becomes at night. To be fair, most of that is located on just one long street, but still.

    The reason why most of drinking that gets done in Düsseldorf gets done in the pubs and bards of the Altstadt, is because the Altstadt has forever been the site of breweries. There are a dozen or so of them here, brewing the 'Altbier' unique to Düsseldorf and the region.

    Apart from the breweries, every other building is either a cafe, a bar, a (Irish) pub or a restaurant. And the whole of the little old town is, as it should be, pedestrianised. I'm back off to the Altstadt now, for a meal at the Uerige brewery.    Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Schloss Dyck

    19. juni 2015, Tyskland ⋅ ⛅ 12 °C

    Is it possible to tire of looking at castles? Probably. You'd have to have a real appetite for them if you were to attempt to see even half of the castles that Germany has to offer.

    Today, a drizzly day in north Germany, I stopped of at Schloss Dyck on my way home from Mönchengladbach. The pictures will have to speak for themselves because I'm too tired to write anything.Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Ecoduct

    21. juni 2015, Holland ⋅ ⛅ 13 °C

    You can tell a lot about a person based on how they treat animals. The true must surely be true of countries, too. The Ecoducts in the Netherlands are a great way of creating 'wildlife corridors', allowing animals to move about the country without, fatally, entering urban environments. It's time the idea was exported elsewhere.Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks
    11

    Leuven

    21. juni 2015, Belgien ⋅ ⛅ 14 °C

    Why is it that so many Belgian places names have become synonymous with war? The Ardennes, Ypres, Flanders' fields and, of course, Waterloo, the purpose of this trip. There is also Dunkirk, just only a couple of miles across the border. Leuven is one of those such places, especially the library.

    At the start of the first world war (actually, before war was declared for the breaching of Belgian independence and neutrality) the books and manuscripts of Leuven's library were burnt and destroyed. Since then, Leuven's name has been associated with the Great War. As a strange connection, it was Manchester's John Rylands Library that replenished the destroyed books.    Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Bruxelles, nous sommes réunis

    21. juni 2015, Belgien ⋅ ⛅ 14 °C

    Bonjour Brussels! Ça va?

    It was good to be back again. I really love this city. It's a place of such extraordinary contradictions. It's a French speaking island in a Flemish sea. It's home to Europe's most opulent square (perhaps even overblown to some) yet its most famous tourist attraction is the self-depreciating Manneken Pis. It's a city of only two million yet, after Washington, undoubtedly the globes most important governmental city (there are more registered journalists in Brussels than in any other city on the planet - by far). From waffles to NATO, there really is everything in Brussels.Læs mere

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  • Tom BanksDüsseldorf and the VicinityTom Banks

    Waterloo - the Bicentenary

    21. juni 2015, Belgien ⋅ ⛅ 13 °C

    It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. So, infamously, begins Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, his novel about the French Revolution. it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity.

    The epoch of belief began on the 14th of July 1789 when an amalgamation of peasants and a Parisian militia stormed the Bastille. It came to an incredulous end, 26 years later, when Napoleon was defeated on the fields of Waterloo on the 18th june 1815.

    For 26 years, France was in flux: from Robespierre and the Jacobins, to the Reign of Terror; from Napoleon and his Consulate, to Louis XVIII and the reinstatement of Feudalism. Before Waterloo, Napoleon had been defeated once before by the Red Army in Moscow (ah, War and Peace, the best novel of all time) and sent to exile on the Mediterranean island of Elbe. But he had returned and it would be Waterloo which would be his final defeat, the epoch ending battle.

    After Waterloo, Louis XVIII (who had been living in exile in Prussia and the UK) retook his throne and the Ancien Regime was restored. The Congress of Vienna returned Europe to its pre-Napoleonic, pre-revolutionary order of authority, aristocracy and monarchy. The establishment was reestablished.

    The French Revolution gave way to the Industrial Revolution, and -- for almost exactly a century -- Europe was nearly at peace (Bismarck's Prussia took bits of France). Industrialisation forced European powers to search for global markets, and the rush in to empire and colonisation took precedence over the balance of power on the continent.

    This weekend is the 200th anniversary of the battle of Waterloo, but are we any further to answering Dickens’ questions? Was it the spring of hope, or the winter of despair? Did they have everything before them, or nothing before them? Were they all going direct to Heaven, or direct the other way? What has Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo meant for today’s Europe?

    For France, the main legacy of the Napoleonic era has been a huge demographic problem. Geographically, France is by far the largest country in Europe, and for centuries this was reflected in its population. At no point before the 19th century did the UK (or England) have a population anything close to France’s; since the 19th century, they’ve been about the same. 200 years later, though, there are signs that France is finally recovering: the vast majority of all non-immigration population growth in Europe (all of it in 2006!) has been French.

    For the UK, the defeat of Napoleon meant the premature death (the still brith) of liberalism, socialism and secularism. Fighting against Napoleon's Grande Armée were a coalition of forces from the Netherlands, Hanover, Prussia, Nassau, Brunswick and the United Kingdom (including many corps from Ireland and Scotland) so it’s complete nonsense to say that the battle was won on the playing-fields of Eton, as is often claimed. If not a victory by the Eton, though, it was certainly a victory for Eton. 200 years laters, the UK is still ran by (and for) Etonians. I don’t know why anyone puts up with it. Come back Boney.    Læs mere

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