Visit : Around Berlin - Schwanenwerder on Wannsee

"Wannsee, Wannsee  - Wann seh ich dich endlich wieder?" goes the text of a song currently in the German pop charts  by the music group "Die Toten Hosen" evoking summer feelings and refreshing dives into this famous lake on the outskirts of Berlin. Famous for its water sports within the boundaries of the city of Berlin and also infamous for its connections in history.

I recently reread a book from one of my favourite authors Robert Harris : "Fatherland", a gripping novel and thriller set in the unusual backdrop of a Nazi-Germany in the 1950s and 60s assuming the Germans had won the war. The first murder victim  is found on Schwanenwerder,  a peninsula which protrudes into Wannsee. 
And as this whole area around Potsdam with its many lakes, castles and beautiful spots  is our favourite place to visit on weekends in Berlin, we decided to have a look what it was all about... 

Schwanenwerder, "Swan's Ait", is a settlement of villas and mansions,  built by wealthy industrialists at the end of the 19th to the beginning of the 20th century to contrast the royal Pfaueninsel, "Peacocks' Island", close-by with its summer palaces of the Prussian kings. The residential very large plots reach down to the beaches of Wannsee with some old villas still left untouched and dilapidated, some renovated and in new ownership.

a boat house

Permanent exposition boards explain the history of Schwanenwerder, the villas and their inhabitants, and  their roles in the history of Nazi-Germany. 

Across the lake a large mansion can be seen: the House of the Wannsee-Conference, now a memorial and educational site, with an extensive exhibition about the Holocaust. It plays a central role in Robert Harris's book. 

The gardens are beautiful and lead down to the water. Who would have thought that in such beautiful surroundings such atrocious plans could be devised and discussed? 

the view across Wannsee from the garden

Boats on Wannsee in an artistic impression

"Abendstimmung"

Day Trips from Sydney : West Head Lookout and Barrenjoey Lighthouse

Sydney, Australia, where we spent a week for our daughter's Graduation this month, has such a wide choice of beaches and bays within the city boundaries like nowhere else. In combination with the year-round near-perfect weather, it makes for an unbeatable life style - no wonder those young people don't want to come home.

We set out from Sydney with a rental car, across the iconic Harbour Bridge towards Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park to the north. The name Ku-ring-gai derives from the aboriginal tribe Kuringgai that used to live here but were eradicated when the British settlers came.

The northern most tip of the NP, Barrenjoey Head, is occupied by a lighthouse. A short steep walk leads up from the car park. 

 Barrenjoey Lighthouse with the Southern Pacific Ocean to the left and Pittwater Bay to the right. Our daughter promised this was one of only three days per year with not-so-fine weather ... 

a lonely surfer

I had brought my light 300 mm lens for birds:

a Masked Lapwing  (Vanellus miles)

a Honeyeater

Pittwater Bay

As it was very windy and started to rain, we consulted google maps and decided to drive around Pittwater Bay to West Head Lookout on the other side to see the view from the other direction.

And as luck would have it, during the half hour in the car, the winds chased away the clouds and when we got out of the car, this view surprised us:

Barrenjoey Lighthouse from West Head Lookout

West Head Lookout is an extremely beautiful spot with lots of short walks to explore the area. 

One walk leads to "Red hand cave", an aboriginal site with hand printings in ochre on the sandstone. 

a Pied Currawong

We met a Kookaburra who came ever closer and seemed to listen on to what we said for quite a while ... These birds of the kingfisher-family often sit quietly on a look-out for long stretches of time watching you and when you turn around and notice them, they seem to smile back ... it must be the impression of their lower yellowish upturned beak. 

He suddenly rushed off, when a big ugly hen-like bird dressed in German flag colours appeared, with huge, dangerous looking feet. It ran straight at me closing in below the minimum focusing distance which is 1,4 m for this 300 mm lens: an Australian Brush-Turkey! It was even more unafraid of us than the Kookaburra, and we moved slowly back to keep a distance.  

 Maybe he just wanted to talk to a German...