Original subtitles

NARRATOR: Germany.

With a unique aerial view

of the richest, most powerful nation in Europe,

we'll reveal how the German people have built city-sized factories

and engineering masterpieces, old and new,

to forge a nation that is the powerhouse of a continent.

In this series, we'll take an aerial tour across Europe,

seeing its sights from a brand-new perspective.

Filmed from above, over the course of a single year,

as the landscape transforms through the changing seasons,

we will uncover the culture, history, and engineering

that built the great European nations we see today.

Germany, the heart of Europe.

Bounded by the Alps in the south

and stretching up to the Baltic and North Seas,

it's the continent's economic heavyweight.

But its wealth isn't just measured in euro.

Germany is super-charged with history and culture.

In the east is Berlin, a city long in the crosshairs of history.

Hamburg is the gateway to the North Sea.

From above, we see an old port finding new life with modern architecture.

The west is a landscape of mammoth factories

and billowing cooling towers.

Whereas, a birds-eye view of southern Germany

reveals a land thick with forests and fairytale castles.

When the temperature drops, tourists flock to the south.

Azure lakes wear cloaks of brilliant light.

And rocky mountains become playgrounds.

It's winter in Germany.

It's on this southern border that Germans have created a mountaintop mega structure.

Viewed from above, the Alps are a fractured swathe of white,

slicing 1,200 kilometers across Europe.

Only a tiny fraction of the mountain chain strays into Germany's southern border.

But this small patch of white

is home to a record-breaking feat of engineering.

In 2017, Germany opened a cable car that rides to the top

of Zugspitze Mountain, the country's tallest peak.

Engineers battled fierce weather and dizzying altitude

to conquer this natural wonder.

The track is 4.5 kilometers long,

and lifts passengers two kilometers into the sky in a single leap.

The climb is so steep that at the top, the cables appear nearly vertical.

It rests on the shoulders of Josef Ross and his team of engineers

to keep everyone taking the trip up the mountain safe.

And today, they're taking a ride with a difference.

They're not traveling inside the car.

Instead, they sit on top of it.

Their incredible job is to examine every millimeter

of the 4.5-kilometer long cables, hunting for signs of wear and tear.

And our birds-eye view can travel alongside them,

all the way to the top, as they look for damage.

(Josef Ross speaking in German):

(man translating in English): You see it right away,

and you have to repair the damages or, in the worst cases, put up new cables.

NARRATOR: Each of the four cables they're inspecting weighs 153 tons,

as much as 20 elephants.

Yet, astonishingly, this single tower, the size of a 40-story skyscraper,

is all that holds those cables up in the middle.

And the tower must also be inspected.

The crew stop the cable car.

Our aerial cameras follow, as they take a daredevil stroll

One hundred and twenty-seven meters above the ground.

They must check the condition of the tower's 40 rubber rollers,

to ensure the car runs smoothly.

(Josef Ross speaking in German):

(man translating in English) If the rubber wears out, a pulley might come off,

and then it's steel on steel.

This damages the cable, and then you'd have a serious problem

that you wouldn't be able to repair.

NARRATOR: Thankfully, the rollers are spinning smoothly.

The team can continue up the mountain.

The cables get steeper and steeper,

until they make their final approach to the mountain station,

almost three kilometers high.

For most people,

the stomach-churning height would be terrifying.

But for Josef, it's the most thrilling part of the job.

(Josef Ross speaking in German):

(man translating in English) When you're on the cabin at the top,

you get a completely unobstructed panoramic view.

♪ ♪

It's really one of the best jobs that you can have.

NARRATOR: It takes seven nerve-shredding hours

for the team to complete their inspections.

The cables are in near mint condition.

Good news for the 500,000 visitors

who come to ski or simply enjoy the view.

Here in the Alps,

Germany's legendary engineering skills have conquered a mountain.

But further north, those same skills are hard at work

in a factory almost the size of Gibraltar.

Germany's heart is a dense web of cities,

crisscrossed by road, rail, and waterways.

This is industrial Germany.

And at its center sits the crown jewel,

Volkswagen's enormous Wolfsburg plant.

At 6.5 million square meters,

it's the world's largest manufacturing facility.

It's December, and Christmas is fast approaching,

but this place isn't slowing down.

Two power stations churn out 450 megawatts of electricity.

And seven dedicated locomotives

shunt wagons around the plant's own train terminal.

The plant employs more than 62,000 people,

who produce around 800,000 cars a year.

And this is how each car begins life,

a roll of steel weighing 30 tonnes.

Our exclusive birds-eye view will follow

as this roll of steel is transformed into a white family 4x4.

Our car starts in a vast workshop spanning around 78,000 square meters.

It's called the press shop.

And it's under the watchful eye of Friedrich Mengedoht.

(speaking in German):

(man translating in English): The entire press shop is approximately

the same size as 11 football fields.

This is where the car comes into existence.

NARRATOR: First, giant rollers unwind the sheet steel,

and hydraulic tools cut and press it into parts.

The robots make it look easy,

churning out 420,000 body parts a day,

as their human supervisors watch on.

(Dr. Friedrich Mengedoht speaking in German):

(man translating in English): You've got enormous forces that are at work there.

The floor does shake.

NARRATOR: But despite the speed,

the press shop works with astonishing precision.

Each part is accurate to a 10th of a millimetre.

A conveyor system whisks the parts from the press shop

to yet another enormous work space, the body shop.

Here, robotic arms wield fiercely hot welding torches

to assemble the sections together,

before each newly-formed shell is given a lick of paint.

So far, barely a human hand has touched a single car part.

But there's one area where each vehicle needs a human touch.

The final stage of production, the assembly line.

Jeannette Thiemann oversees the finishing touches to our white 4x4

in the assembly room at VW's Wolfsburg plant.

(Jeannette Thiemann speaking in German):

(woman translating in English): I think that we have a different kind

of discipline here in Germany,

I want to say stubborn, with regard to quality.

NARRATOR: Our aerial view reveals the highly-skilled workers

aren't competing with robots, they're in harmony with them.

(Jeannette Thiemann speaking in German):

(woman translating in English): The machines here do work very precisely,

but they're not as flexible as a human.

NARRATOR: Together, robots and humans fix chassis to bodies,

and bolt engines and batteries into the car.

A moving conveyor ensures that as soon as one job is finished,

the car is already in place for the next component.

(speaking in German):

(woman translating in English): Every 60 seconds,

a finished car leaves the belt.

NARRATOR: It's taken a little over a day

to transform a humble roll of steel into our brand-new family car,

but its journey is not quite over.

A conveyor belt transports it to the plant's crowning glory,

a sci-fi-inspired parking tower.

Robotic assistants hoist the car 50 meters into the air,

and carefully slot it into a parking bay,

ready for collection by its new owner.

It's not just cars Germans build.

Across the country,

city-sized factories churn out everything from petrochemicals

to steel.

And at ports like Hamburg, these goods are transported out around the globe,

making Germany Europe's biggest exporter.

As the months tick by, winter's grip loosens.

The snow in the mountains retreats

and frozen lakes thaw.

Spring comes to Germany.

The melting snow reveals Germany's lush landscape.

The dark green patches visible in satellite images are forests.

Roughly a third of the country is covered in dense woodland.

And in Germany's far southwest is the most iconic forest of them all,

an enormous patch of dark green containing some two billion trees,

the Black Forest.

Our aerial view reveals the story behind this forest's name.

The trees are packed together so tightly,

that in places, sunlight can't get through.

The forest floor seems almost black.

Just as iconic as the trees

are the traditional huts, constructed from wooden tiles.

The tiles are called shingles.

They're perfect for keeping the huts watertight,

but making them properly is a skilled engineering feat.

Ernst Karle is a master shingle maker.

Spring marks the time when Ernst and his son Lukas

search for the perfect wood to ply their trade.

(speaking in German):

(man translating in English): It starts when you choose a tree.

I pick an area where the trees are not too exposed to the wind.

You don't want to see any branches for the first ten meters.

NARRATOR: The tree they're looking for

will be used to restore the walls of this 100-year-old hut.

And the finest shingles mustn't be warped or contain knots.

So Ernst is very picky.

He eventually finds what he's looking for.

ERNST KARLE: Lukas!

NARRATOR: From above, we can see Ernst chose his tree well.

Tall and straight, it'll be perfect for shingle making.

Lukas carefully fells the tree.

They then transport it back to the family home,

where the shingle making can begin.

(Ernst Karle speaking in German):

(man translating in English): This type of job just fills you with joy.

I'm never in a bad mood when I'm making shingles.

NARRATOR: Lukas uses a traditional log-splitting tool

called a froe to slice the tree into pieces.

Whilst Ernst sits on a machine called a shaving horse,

slicing each tile to size.

Even Ernst's four-year-old grandson, Lenny, gets involved.

He's like me when I was young.

He's walking around and he wants to be with us.

NARRATOR: With three generations working together,

the Karle family can make 600 shingles a day.

They then drive into the forest,

where they can begin to nail row after row of the tiles to the hut.

(Ernst Karle speaking in English):

(man translating in English): What more could you ask for in your workplace?

It's quiet, you make the hut, you bring a sandwich, and sit in the sun for lunch.

What's important is that it's properly done,

and the quality is there.

NARRATOR: It'll take another 11,000 tiles to finish this hut.

But once the work is done, the hut will be able to withstand

all the rain, snow, and wind the Black Forest throws at it.

Springtime in the Black Forest is like something out of a fairytale.

It was scenes like this

that inspired two local brothers, in the early 1800s, to write stories

such as Hansel and Gretel, Snow White, and Cinderella.

They were the Brothers Grimm, and the next stop on this aerial journey

could easily be the setting for one of their folk tales.

This is Hohenzollern Castle in the state of Baden-Württemberg.

Our bird's-eye view can soar over this 140-room storybook fortress,

built by the Hohenzollern family, Prussian royalty.

They chose this impossibly lofty perch

to show off their power to all who passed by.

Today, the building and its sumptuous interiors

draw 350,000 visitors a year.

And with warmer weather around the corner, it's up to castle custodian, Anja Hoppe,

to make sure the building is in tip-top condition.

(speaking in German):

(woman translating in English): It is a big responsibility,

but on the other hand, of course, it's also a big honor.

It makes me so happy to be able to work here.

It's simply my mission.

NARRATOR: Today, Anja's arranged for a specialist group of climbers

to visit the castle.

They abseil down the sandstone facades, but they're not here to repair the walls,

they're here to brutally attack them with hammers.

This isn't vandalism.

They're keeping Hohenzollern's visitors safe.

(Anja Hoppe speaking in German):

(woman translating in English): The façade climbers come twice a year.

They remove elements that have become loose over time,

to prevent anything from falling on our visitors or on the streets.

They're like heroes balancing themselves on the walls.

And on top of that, they're very handsome men!

NARRATOR: The climbers methodically work their way down the walls,

chipping out anything that could pose a threat to visitors below.

But surprisingly, there's not much material to remove.

The walls are in excellent condition.

This castle may look medieval, but it's an impostor.

It wasn't even built when the Brothers Grimm began

penning their tales of princesses and evil queens.

(Anja Hoppe speaking in German):

(woman translating in English): It's actually a young castle,

only 150 years old.

NARRATOR: Why build such an impressive defensive structure

in an era when medieval knights were long gone?

In the 1800s, Germany was obsessed

with tales of shining armor and fair maidens living in tall towers.

So, what better way to join the trend than to build your own Camelot?

(Anja Hoppe speaking in German):

(woman translating in English): It had to look medieval, of course,

but it's in no way a medieval castle, no knights ever lived here.

NARRATOR: The climbers finish their work.

The masonry they've so violently removed will be carefully restored,

leaving the building as good as new.

A pre-Disney Disneyland castle.

(speaking in German):

(woman translating in English): It does feel a bit like a Hollywood kind of scene,

and I'm thinking to myself,

"My God, it can't possibly be this beautiful in real life."

NARRATOR: Hohenzollern isn't the only German castle

that hides its youth.

From above, we can see Germany is littered with modern fairytale fortresses.

Hohenschwangau in Bavaria is only 180 years old.

And Neuschwanstein, the inspiration for Disney's Sleeping Beauty Castle,

was still a construction site 140 years ago.

They may not be authentic medieval strongholds,

but they're magical sites for tourists,

especially when the warm rays of summer begin to shine.

♪ ♪

It's June.

In the German capital, Berlin, the sun beats down

on some of the country's most varied architecture.

From the neo-renaissance Berlin Cathedral,

modernist housing estates,

to the Fernsehturm, an iconic Soviet TV tower.

But perhaps the most important site here isn't a building,

it's the crumbling remnants of the Berlin Wall.

This was once a city divided.

At the end of World War II, Berlin was split between the victors.

France, Britain, and the US took the west, and the Soviets the east.

Tensions grew, and in 1961,

the Berlin Wall was built straight through the city's heart.

But there's an unsung hero in this story.

Ten kilometers west of the wall,

a cluster of buildings dotted with strange white circles is visible.

Looking closer, our flying cameras reveal

an enormous tower that's fallen into decay,

topped and flanked by gigantic spheres.

Teufelsberg, an American Cold War listening station.

This remarkable building may have saved humanity from self-destruction.

Teufelsberg was an American spy station

designed to eavesdrop on Soviet communications.

Chris McLarren was one of the intelligence officers who worked here.

CHRIS MCLARREN: Berlin was such a remarkable city during the Cold War,

because we were armed to the teeth and the Soviets were armed to the teeth.

And it probably would only have taken some misunderstandings for war to break out.

NARRATOR: The strange story of Teufelsberg listening station

begins not with the buildings but the hill they stand on.

Seventy-five years ago, this hill didn't exist.

CHRIS MCLARREN: Berlin was badly beat up after World War II.

They needed to put the rubble somewhere, and this was a good place to put it.

Hundreds of trucks came out every day, and brought rubble out of the city.

NARRATOR: This is an artificial hill

made up of some 26 million cubic meters of the capital's World War II rubble.

At 120 meters high, it's the tallest hill in the city.

CHRIS MCLARREN: As we look out from the hill,

all of this area is extremely flat.

So, this was the place to put the listening post,

because you can hear in all directions.

NARRATOR: Our aerial view can see the tattered white domes

that once contained dishes designed to snoop on Soviet radio communications.

And the buildings below were alive with intelligence officers

trying to crack the riddles of their rivals across the city.

Of course, building a giant white tower on the highest hill in town

is not something you can do without being noticed.

CHRIS MCLARREN: Of course, the Soviets knew we were here.

We were listening, and the Soviets were listening,

and because of that, no surprise, no panic, and no military overreaction.

So, in that sense, it was a peacekeeping operation.

That wasn't its purpose, but that was the effect.

NARRATOR: With the fall of the Berlin Wall and the unification of Berlin,

the need for Teufelsberg disappeared.

It fell into ruin.

But the old building has had something of a new lease of life.

The artists have taken over.

♪ ♪

Our flying cameras reveal it's become a canvas for graffiti artists.

♪ ♪

It's the largest graffiti gallery in Europe.

Germany in summer is a sea of dark and light greens,

but close to the western border, a startling brown patch becomes visible,

even from tens of kilometers up.

Looking closer...

reveals it's a scar in the Earth's surface the size of a city.

This is Hambach open-pit coal mine.

♪ ♪

Colossal machines chomp through the Earth's surface,

accessing over a billion tonnes of coal deposits.

The coal is buried too shallow for underground mining.

So, to get to it, the Germans have dug a hole so big

the only way to explore it is from high above.

It's the largest man-made hole in Europe.

It's Peter Rehmer's job to make the biggest hole in Europe even bigger,

and to do that, he uses a monstrous machine.

This is a Bagger excavator, the biggest land vehicle on Earth.

(speaking in German):

(man translating in English): The excavator is 96 meters high,

220 meters long,

45 meters wide, and weighs 13,500 tonnes.

NARRATOR: Each Bagger excavator is taller than the Statue of Liberty,

and the length of three Boeing 747s parked side by side.

And Hambach mine has eight of these metal monsters.

Today, Peter's clearing some of the clay and soil that sits above the coal.

He looks like an ant as he makes his way to the cabin

at the very front of this vast machine.

(Peter Rehmer speaking in German):

(man translating in English): When I walk up

from the bottom to the driver's cabin,

it can take me up to five minutes.

You should be in good shape when you do this work.

NARRATOR: With Peter in position, it's time to dig.

♪ ♪

The largest land vehicle on the planet

bites into the Earth using its enormous excavating wheel.

The wheel is 20 meters across,

with 18 gigantic buckets, each the size of a VW Beetle.

It can shift 166 tons of material a minute.

(Peter Rehmer speaking in German):

(man translating in English): The forces at work are immense.

It is pretty loud, and the vibrations are relatively strong.

NARRATOR: A system of conveyor belts,

covering a staggering 115 kilometers, carries the spoil away,

dumping it on the other side of the mine, creating a Martian-like landscape.

But Germany's biggest hole is also controversial.

The coal being excavated here

is so-called brown coal, the most polluting there is.

And over the years, the mine has grown,

at the expense of a neighboring forest.

But the green lobby is fighting back.

The government has vowed to be coal free by 2038,

and mining is due to cease here in the mid-20s.

(Peter Rehmer speaking in German):

(man translating in English): This place will undergo a complete makeover

and will probably turn into the second-biggest inland lake in Germany.

NARRATOR: Engineers will redirect water from the Rhine,

producing a recreational lake.

And foresters will replant 35 square kilometers with seeds

sourced from the original Hambach Forest.

By the end of his shift, Peter has moved 80,000 tons of material.

But this enormous excavator

is like a colossal dinosaur on the brink of extinction,

a living memorial to Germany's industrial history.

It's September.

Dropping temperatures turn green fields to golden brown,

and crops ripen.

Autumn is here.

In Germany's far north, the temperature plummets.

But the cold weather is no obstacle for this man,

who has, perhaps, the country's most spectacular daily commute.

A stone's throw from Germany's border with Denmark

sits a collection of tiny islands,

cut off from the mainland by a large, shallow sea:

the Hallig Islands.

♪ ♪

The ten islands are set amongst endless mud flats,

home to countless flocks of water birds.

Fewer than 300 people live here,

and it's a life that comes with challenges.

There are no bridges between the Hallig Islands,

and much of the sea here is too shallow for boats.

But our aerial view

reveals the inhabitants' ingenious engineering solution.

A network of tiny train lines

that carry small personal trains.

Six days a week, Johann Petersen loads up his train wagon on the mainland,

and takes to the rails.

Johann is a Hallig Island postman,

delivering mail to some 90 local residents.

(speaking in German):

(man translating in English): It's probably not only

the most unusual postal route,

but also the prettiest.

On one hand, you're freezing.

Your beard is turning white, your nose is running, everything's stupid,

and I'm still sitting there thinking to myself, "This is really awesome."

(laughs)

NARRATOR: There are two train lines here.

One 3.6-kilometer line links the island of Nordstrandischmoor with the mainland.

Another 9-kilometer line connects the islands of Oland and Langeneß.

It's the northern line Johann is taking today,

and he's reached his first stop, Oland.

(Johann Petersen speaking in German):

(man translating in English): Oland is a Hallig,

meaning that it's just above high water,

and when there's the tiniest storm, it becomes submerged.

NARRATOR: The housebuilders of the Hallig Islands

construct their homes on raised mounds to protect them in high seas.

So, Johann loads up his wheelbarrow and walks up the mound

to deliver post to the island's 16 residents.

This island has a special place in Johann's heart.

(speaking in German):

(man translating in English): I was born on Oland, I grew up on Oland,

and God willing, I'll be buried there, too.

NARRATOR: But the beauty here is tinged with sadness.

The Hallig Islands are so low-lying that, thanks to climate change,

they're under threat from rising sea levels.

From above, it's possible to see the kilometers of coastal defenses

locals have built to try to solve the problem.

They're weaving brushwood between wooden posts

to stop the land being washed away.

But Johann thinks it's already too late

for some of the more vulnerable Hallig Islands.

(speaking in German):

(man translating in English): I'm enough of a realist to understand that

the Hallig Islands, as we know them now, cannot be preserved, full stop.

It certainly is mind-boggling to think that

my generation is probably the last one that will see the place like this.

NARRATOR: Johann has reached Langeneß, the end of the line.

It's a long and cold ride back to the mainland,

but he wouldn't change his job for anything.

(speaking in German):

(man translating in English): I hope I'll be doing this job for as long as possible.

How long that will be, we'll leave up to the Lord.

I dare not make a guess.

♪ ♪

NARRATOR: Autumn is drawing to a close,

and the temperature has dropped to single figures.

But there's one strange corner of Germany that is forever summer.

Due south of Berlin, 60 kilometers from the Polish border

sits a disused airbase set in a dense, frigid forest.

From above, an enormous structure can be seen.

Our aerial view can swoop closer,

revealing it's a vast airship hangar.

Three hundred and sixty meters long, 210 meters wide, and 107 meters tall.

By volume, it's the third largest building on Earth.

The hangar was built in the year 2000

to construct airships 260 meters long,

but the company that built it went bankrupt.

Today, this colossal building has found a bizarre new calling

as Europe's largest tropical holiday resort: Tropical Islands.

Its interior is kept at a constant temperature of 26 degrees Celsius.

Holidaymakers can spend the day swimming in lagoons

or strolling through a rain forest.

They can even spend the night in a small harbor town.

But this enormous old hangar is showing its age.

Keeping it safe for its new life as a holiday park

calls for a maintenance team with a good head for heights.

Meet Dennis Hillebrands, the high-wire handyman.

DENNIS HILLEBRANDS: We have to replace or repair things

inside and outside of the dome, you know.

Every kind of job that we're doing inside is a challenge.

NARRATOR: Today, Dennis and the team

need to replace an old safety mesh high in the roof of this enormous dome.

They winch tools up from the hangar floor.

Then it's time to take a trip over the edge.

The mesh they're replacing

is designed to catch anything dropped from the walkway above.

(speaking in German): Now you can take out the carabiner.

NARRATOR (in English): With nothing but air beneath them,

they clip every tool securely to their harnesses.

But if Dennis is scared, he doesn't show it.

(Dennis whistling)

He even has time to take in the view.

DENNIS HILLEBRANDS: Sometimes, it's pretty much funny when you see

what's going on, on the bottom,

how they are going to drink, to swim, or just hang around on the beach.

That is nice.

NARRATOR: With a few more turns of the wrench,

the new mesh is firmly in place.

There's one last check for Dennis to make before he heads back down to solid ground,

the vast roof.

♪ ♪

It's now that the huge scale of the building can really be seen.

The diminutive figure of Dennis

makes his way across the top of this colossal building.

And thanks to precision German engineering,

the roof is in perfect condition.

With their never-ending push for perfection, Germans have tamed nature,

built an economy that's the envy of a continent,

and created a culture that celebrates the country's past,

but not without enjoying the present.

The German people constantly test the limits of what's possible,

and in so doing, have created the great European nation we see today.