[narrator] This is a journey across
a magnificent continent. It's a journey through space and time. Along the way, we discover
the traces of ancient oceans and unearth the remains
of tropical rainforests, way up high in the mountains. Dinosaurs join us
as traveling companions. We meet up with Neanderthals and are on hand to witness
a cosmic accident that came close
to obliterating everything. We encounter hunters and the hunted. And join Europe on its long journey around our planet. A hundred years ago, people were already aware
of certain mysterious, ancient animals. Again and again, evidence of a much earlier
Germany surfaced, a place inhabited by strange creatures. This was just such a find
from those prehistoric times. Bone from a legendary animal. The Age of the Dinosaur had dawned. They would now call the shots for the next 150 million years. Compared to its later relations, the Plateosaurus was a featherweight. Yet this herbivore was still too heavy for the damp muddy ground
of the swamplands that had spread over the area bit by bit. The thick gooey silt
swallowed them up like quicksand. In modern times, so many of the longnecks
were unearthed here that they were nicknamed
Swabian Lindworms, after the local region. These creatures mark the beginning
of the story of the dinosaurs. The bone was only the tip of the iceberg. But let's first take a big step back. The young Earth
was still a glowing ball of fire. No sign yet of our blue planet. Little by little,
the red-hot Earth cooled down, rivers, lakes and oceans appeared. At the time, the primeval
precursor of Europe was rising up from the sea, the continent lay thousands of kilometers
farther south, at the equator. [thunder rumbles] Nowadays, this distant era is known as the Carbon or Coal Age. Back then, there was a strange atmosphere
in the forest. Birds did not yet exist. The climate was hot and humid. There was a surplus of oxygen. Higher, further, longer, the fern trees grew
to heights of up to 20 meters. Prehistoric giant centipedes could reach lengths of up to two meters. Caudates were the first vertebrates to set foot on terra firma. Within just a few million years, these amphibians had developed legs
and lungs. And for the first time,
animals took to the air. Giant dragonflies patrolled from above. With four individually controllable wings, like their modern ancestors, they were high-precision hunters. [thunder rumbles] The ancient tropical forests produced enormous amounts of oxygen. One thunderclap was enough
to cause the explosive air mixture to combust. At this stage, Europe was situated at the intersection
of two vast landmasses. The collision of the two
gave rise to a mountain range that could have been as high
as the modern-day Alps, if it hadn't begun to crumble as soon as it had formed. The forest swamplands were buried
beneath the debris of the mountains. Forests repeatedly grew up, only to be flooded once again
by the ocean waters and covered with sand and rocky debris. A process that took millions of years. Cut off from oxygen,
the plants didn't rot. First they became peat, then lignite, or brown coal, and finally black coal. The run-up to modern coal mining began 700 years ago in England. On the surface at first, then, in pursuit of the deeper layers, operations went underground. The energy originally stored in the plants was once again brought to light. The great hunger for energy, literally, undermined
the coal mining towns. The ground below was soon criss-crossed with mine shafts and passageways. Meanwhile, above ground,
coal-fired power plants were being built. These installations convert
fossil combustibles into energy, the stuff that growth
and progress is made of. On the coal mine slag heaps, the primeval forest from down below once again becomes visible. Its remains can be seen
in the fine outlines that the giant specimens have left behind in the coal strata. The huge fern trees
have been immortalized in stone, as well as giant centipedes. The trunks of 40-meter tall
sigillaria trees have also made their mark. So too the dragonflies which, apart from their huge size, are hardly distinguishable
from today's version. The blueprint of the magnificent dragonfly has hardly changed in millions of years. During growth, the young insect repeatedly casts off
its extremely lightweight yet durable chitinous exoskeleton. Beneath this disposable armor, its body is divided into soft segments. After the last shedding,
it finally spreads its wings. The dragonfly has reached maturity. The descendants of the caudate have not reinvented themselves either. They still spend their childhood
in the water, breathing through gills. Later on, they grow legs and lungs. Only then, can they go on land. It's almost like watching
evolution in fast motion. In prehistoric Central Europe, a massive mountain range once stood here, where now only dwarves remain. Erosion has worn the Coal Age mountain range down to the ground. As the peaks eroded,
their debris filled the valleys. What remains are the low mountain ranges of Southern, Eastern and Western Europe - the Sudetes, the Rhenish Massif
and the Ardennes. Water often collected in the clay containing watertight strata
of the valley floors, creating lakes. Looking at the green landscape of today, it's hard to imagine that a primordial ocean once sloshed here. The Zechstein Sea covered a large part of the European continent, from today's Baltic states, across Poland and all the way
to the Netherlands. There was still no sign that a disaster of incomparable proportions would occur in the post-Carbon Age era. Temperatures on land were scorching. Though they were left high and dry, the amphibians didn't go extinct. Those that escaped the arid land
into the water, lived on and continued to adapt. Rain clouds that developed out at sea rarely reached
the interior of the landmass. Without rain,
vast desert regions came into being. With skin and eggs
that are resistant to evaporation, the reptiles now had a decisive advantage in the hot desert climate. Over a period of 150 million years, mountain ranges were ground down, flooded by the ocean,
then left to dry out again. What remained was a landscape
of dusty valleys, cut through with deep rivers and streams. Mudskippers found their own ingenious way of gaining solid ground. Instead of lungs,
they developed gill chambers, which they fill with water that they repeatedly enrich with oxygen by gasping for air. Mudskippers are not the link between fish and the four-legged creatures on land. Rather, they are proof that
for almost every challenge there are several solutions. It can take hundreds of millions of years for a given animal to make the transition from water to land. Crabs have also made the leap. At low tide, they search
the sand for food. As diverse and ingenious as plant and animal adaptations may be, nature is nevertheless repeatedly sent back to the drawing board. By the end of the Permian Period, 80% of all animal species on land and in the sea had gone extinct. It is highly probable that a series of volcanic eruptions triggered their demise. The climate descended into chaos. Algae blooms and oxygen-eating bacteria created death zones in the oceans, poisoning all marine life. Throughout the Earth's history, mass die-offs of this kind have repeatedly led to the loss
of entire animal groups. Even today, evidence of the prehistoric deserts is still omnipresent. In the Palatinate Forest
on the Franco-German border, sand and clay deposits have piled up to form 400 meter-thick layers. Once the colorful sandstone also filled all the valleys, covering the entire Palatinate Forest. But wind and water
have since eroded a major portion of the highly porous sedimentary stone, creating bizarre rock formations. And the Palatinate Forest isn't the only one in Europe
that's changed. Across the continent, the giant fern trees have been replaced by other species, spruce, beech, oak and pine. At first glance, this sea of trees seems empty and monotone, yet it's actually full of life
and surprises. In the south of the continent, Mediterranean pine forests
carpet the land. In Central and Eastern Europe, it's beech, and, in the north, the taiga takes over. But though these forests
might seem untouched, they ceased being real wilderness
a very long time ago. Here, forestry and modern hunting shape the face of nature. White stork
is one of the original inhabitants of the alluvial forests. Initially, a tree-breeder, the birds first took to the rooftops
and chimneys when human beings
began to shape the landscape. And yet, since time immemorial, the forest has remained
an enchanted place, shrouded in mystery. The deep, dark woods are a primary source
of legends and fairy tales. At night, we can still feel the spirit of the primeval forest. In some places, however, the dream of the ancient forest
has become a nightmare. For centuries, the prehistoric carbon stored in the Carbon Age forests has been rising into the atmosphere from smoke stacks and chimneys, fueling climate change
as well as industry. But rows of spruce have also been planted
at some spots, creating fragile forest plantations. A powerful winter storm, however, sweeping through here
and pulling up trees by the roots, can often devastate whole woodland areas. When such natural disasters strike, we can only look on helplessly as years of reforestation efforts
are toppled. In the Bavarian Forest National Park, they have established
what are called "forest cells", designated areas where fallen trees
are left untouched. The forest is purposely left
to its own devices. Here, it's open season for pests. The voracious bark beetle can go about its destructive work
undisturbed. The beetles lay their eggs in the wood and when they hatch, the gluttony begins. Like a biblical plague, the insects ravage the spruce forest. But every ending bears the seeds
of a new beginning, however unintentionally. The pernicious pest actually helps give birth to a new, wilder and more colorful world. Fungi contribute
by decomposing the dying timber to create the virgin forest of the future. With the naked eye, we can't even see the growth of mushrooms that shoot up
from the ground virtually overnight. So, it is all the more difficult
to comprehend the slow pace at which life
turns to stone. What looks like a standstill is in fact a state of constant change. Entire continents migrate, animal and plant species vanish and new ones appear. But in our perception, the time spans are so enormous that we can only guess
at the extend of the changes. The events of millennia can be compressed into just a few centimeters of stone. At a rock quarry in Bavaria, evidence of prehistory is revealed. As the layers are excavated, silent witnesses from a bygone age repeatedly come forward. Back then, the region rested
at the edge of a sea, with flat lagoons along the shoreline, underwater, coral reefs lined the coast. But above the waterline,
things were getting restless. Welcome to Europe's Jurassic Park. In the Jurassic Period, the dinosaurs had the run of the planet. Skillful fliers, quick hunters and armored giants, they conquered almost every niche,
every habitat. On the islands, which are mountains today, lived speedy predatory dinos, like this Compsognathus, who liked to eat his smaller relations. This savage age
gave birth to a strange creature. With clawed fingers and a long, boney tail, Archaeopteryx. The first evidence of Archaeopteryx was discovered in 1860 in a chalk quarry in the little Bavarian town of Solnhofen. A feather. Soon the first fossilized skeleton
was found. A feathered dinosaur, a bird? The finds gave rise to new questions. Charles Darwin had just published his theory "On The Origin Of Species". Soon the fossil was caught in an evolutionary tug of war. One camp saw it as evidence
that birds came from dinosaurs. For others, it was an exotic anomaly, but definitely not a link between species. They were wrong. Every layer of Solnhofen limestone could bring a new fossil to light and cause a new stir. A discovery no one had reckoned with, Archaeopteryx wasn't the first dino
to wear feathers. But if the little predatory dinosaurs plumage wasn't airworthy, why did they have it? Nowadays, reptiles are cold-blooded, they sunbath to store up warmth. Dinosaurs were believed to do the same but the Jurassic creatures left nothing more than stone to go by. But the stone has tales to tell, if you know how to extract them. Sometimes, very fine structures are preserved deep within the fossils. At Bonn University, researchers are looking
at these microstructures. In the bones
of the big herbivore dinosaurs, the scientists have discovered
growth rings, similar to those of trees. The core samples from the bones show that in many dinosaurs the rings are spaced at large intervals. They must have grown quickly, as only warm-blooded creatures do. And so, history must now
once again be rewritten. At least several species of dinosaur had little in common with modern reptiles. Feathered, two-legged dinos
that warm their eggs with their bodies and feed their young, the similarity is no coincidence. The golden eagle,
here on the lookout for prey, is a descendant of the dinosaur, likewise blackbird and sparrow. The eagle's habitat looks wizened, weather-beaten, full of wrinkles, as old as can be. The appearance is deceptive, the Alps are a relatively
young mountain range, that a mere 200 million years ago was still underwater. Today, traces of the former ocean are still encased
in the Alpine Dachstein limestone. The mysterious imprints
in the Dachstein Massif long posed puzzling questions. These are the descendants
of the inhabitants of a warm ocean, from which the Alps had yet to rise up. Back then, much of the Alpine region still looked like a tropical
underwater seascape. In the south, a deep trench separated the African
and European continents. The sea filled this divide, and the beaches were lined with reefs up to a thousand meters tall. The smaller inhabitants of this sea had to beware of marine dinosaurs. Even in the dark, the Alpine Reef was not a safe place. Nowadays, that sea lies above the clouds. The seabed crumpled up
into a mountain range. Once 1,000 kilometers across, it was pushed together like a concertina and is now just 100 kilometers wide. The craggy mountain landscape is the result of a collision
of the two continents. Here Africa pressed from the south
against Europe. Unbelievably slowly,
the Earth's crust splintered, crumpled and piled up in layers. And so from the bottom
of an ancient ocean, the chalk Alps grew to great heights. The ancient seabed
has turned to rock cliff, from which water comes
crashing down in free fall. The constant force of the water wears the mountain away again, bit by bit. Daddy long legs, or harvestmen, have survived for millions of years and are eyewitnesses to these changes. Now, many species are under threat. Human beings
are encroaching on their habitats. The underwater world of the Alpine lakes is no less mysterious than the prehistoric oceans. Here, too, evolution has come up with a highly inventive survival strategy. These clear but nutrient-poor lakes are home to the bladderwort. This ancient aquatic plant has a special way
of meeting its dietary needs. To get enough nitrogen
the bladderwort supplements its diet with little crabs and worms. The tiny animals are trapped and then slowly digested in the bladder of the carnivorous plant. In the dinosaur age, the prehistoric precursor of the pike could also be found
chasing through the waters. 600 meters above today's sea level lies the Königssee. Here the pike and the bladderwort hunt along the remains of coral banks
and reefs that were lifted up to altitudes far above the timberline. In just a few million years, the habitat has been transformed and with it the animal and plant kingdoms. Living at an altitude of 1,000 meters, the marmot is perfectly adapted
for the Alpine climate. Unlike some other mammals,
marmots are unable to pant to cool their bodies down. In a warmer climate they would not survive the rigors of the constant turf wars. But how do species develop? How does evolution get down to business? While the Alps slowly rose up, a new and colorful revolution began. Flowering plants came to be and with them insects, some of them specially adapted to a single type of flower. If one did not exist,
the other could not survive. The insects are attracted
to the nutrition, and by pollinating the buds they, in turn, ensure the creation of the next generation
of flowering plants. No one yet knows exactly how this interplay
of mutual adaptation all began. It's a rugged world up here. The high mountain habitat
is particularly harsh. With every meter of altitude,
the temperature drops and the diversity of plant life decreases. But the plants that do manage
to survive up here, despite extremes of cold, sun and aridity, are true specialists. In this inhospitable realm, where almost no tree species
can exist today, the Swiss pine thrives. They take their time growing and can live for up to 1,000 years. With their sinuous trunks and tough wood, they defy the storms and icy winds that often haunt these heights. The fate of the nutcracker is inextricably
linked to that of the pines. Year for year,
this little feathered descendant of the dinosaur painstakingly
gathers pine cones. In the fall, a single bird stows his stash
in up to 6,000 hiding places. When winter comes, it returns to its storehouses. It can remember where most of them are,
but not all. Many of the seeds in the forgotten caches sprout in spring,
allowing new trees to grow. So, the nutcracker doesn't just feed at the bountiful table of the Swiss pine, it also ensures the species'
continued existence. A delicate balance of nature at the edge of the timberline. What was once the ocean floor is now the preserve of acrobats. Under the watchful eye of the eagle, the young chamois blaze new trails. But as skillful as they are at climbing, falling rock and avalanches repeatedly take their toll,
especially on the kids. The eagles are immediately on the scene. Ibex and chamois
risk their daredevil stunts on the precipitous rocky mountainsides in search of an essential substance, salt. On the journey of the continent
northwards from the equator, the sun dried out the shallow seas, turning them to salt deserts. The Permian Period oceans also left their traces here
in the far south of Germany. Today, those salt strata traverse the rock of the Berchtesgaden Alps. The salt rock veins extend kilometers deep into the mountains and at some spots are up to
a thousand meters thick. As the Alps began to elevate, the salt deposits, too,
were lifted out of the depths, becoming deformed as they were displaced. Their patterns clearly delineate
the uplift of the mountain range. Salt has been extracted in Berchtesgaden for almost 500 years. The drills follow the salt veins
in the mountain. From the tunnels, mine shafts extend deep down
into the salt rock. The mountain water itself does the actual extraction, washing the salt out of the stone. The brine is almost as salty as the water of the Dead Sea. The ancient cycle repeats itself. Water evaporates and precious salt remains. Hundreds of millions of years
have left their mark in the rocks, giving Europe
its ever-changing appearance. During this time, the Alps have grown to become a massive mountain range. Their peaks are the highest point
of today's Europe. And the Alpine massif still continues to push upwards. But where there is a mountain range, there will also be
constant assaults by frost, wind and water. If it weren't for erosion, the Alps would be 30 km high by now. Every trickle carries the mountaintop
down to the valley, pebble by pebble. The precursor to the Mediterranean once covered vast areas of the Earth. It was from this early ocean
that the Alps arose, creating a river that now flows through six European countries, the Rhine. Its story begins 50 million years ago. Its source is in Switzerland,
high above sea level. On the descent,
winding its way through valleys, the Rhine makes
an enormous drop in altitude. The Alpine Rhine carries along with it sand and detritus, the rubble of the eroding mountain range. Several million tons of it each year. It's all deposited little by little
in Lake Constance. The river is thus filling a depression left behind by Ice Age glaciers. Lake Constance itself
was cut into the land by glacial ice stream tongues. When they retreated, they left behind
the large meltwater lake surrounded by high walls of rocky rubble. When the dams burst,
the Alpine Rhine made its way westwards to join the still young Upper Rhine. At the Rhine Falls
near Schaffhausen, Switzerland, the second largest waterfall in Europe, up to 700 cubic meters of water a second come crashing down. For the river's fish,
the upstream journey ends here, except for the eel. Its roots go back millions of years. From the evolutionary perspective, the eel is an old model, but one that is by no means outdated. It can leave its element to get past the Rhine Falls via the land route. It's thought that
the reign of the dinosaurs came to an abrupt end 65 million years ago with a meteorite strike. But that wasn't really
the end of their story. Its claws are only faintly reminiscent of the predatory dinosaurs of the Jurassic and Cretaceous Periods, yet the dipper is one
of their living descendants. In fact, all birds are distant relations of speedy little predatory dinosaurs, some of which
even wore feathers themselves. The gray wagtail
is a deft little insect hunter, but its forebears will hardly
have suddenly morphed into aerial acrobats
from one generation to the next. As everything in the development of life, this transformation, too, was likely a process peppered with intermediate forms and transitions. Just past Schaffhausen
the Rhine flows on into Germany, along the edge of the Black Forest, woodlands famed
far beyond the national borders. The shade of the mountain conifer is home turf for the wood grouse. The male is no flying ace but he does boast impressive plumage. This shows the female that her suitor would be a healthy partner. The offspring of these animals will be a tiny bit different from their parents. Those who pass on their characteristics
to the next generation will define conditions
in their environment. The way of the world
for four billion years now. It worked!
The females are all aflutter now. Some members of the plant kingdom have also survived
the Earth's major mass die-offs. The first conifers appeared way back in the Carbon Age coal forests. The silver fir is one of their ancestors. Up to 65 meters tall, they grow in the hilly regions
of Central and Southern Europe. These trees are a living example of tricks that evolution has employed
to great success since time immemorial. The generation of protected, nutrient-rich seeds and airworthy pollen, and all on one tree. The source of the Wutach River is in the south of the Black Forest. Over millions of years, the tireless power of the water has slowly exposed the rock strata. The river cuts through
the history of Europe, right down to the foundation stone of the Carbon Age mountain range. The environment is ever-changing. The view from above the Black Forest
down into the Rhine Valley is like a window on the Earth's interior. Here, a continent was divided. To the west, the Rhine Graben,
or trench, opened up as a branch of the ocean
cut across Germany. 50 million years ago, when Southern Central Europe was pushed up
by the pressure of the Alps the ocean retreated,
leaving behind the Upper Rhine. The river chose an unsettled bed. The Earth's crust is especially thin here. Magma repeatedly made
its way to the surface. Millennia of erosion have sanded down the prehistoric volcanic craters. What remains are the sun-drenched terraced slopes of the Kaiserstuhl. a little bit of Tuscany
on the Upper Rhine. The extinct volcanoes are a fertile ground for many life forms. [insect chirping] A jungle of grasses and flowers
provides good camouflage for an unusual hunter, the praying mantis. It's mating season
and the female is hungry. The lizard is completely unfazed by the deadly rendezvous. Unlike its ancestors
millions of years ago. This collision put an end
to the Age of the Dinosaurs. The crash hurled huge amounts of dust into the Earth's atmosphere. The sun was hidden for months on end. Temperatures dropped significantly. More than half of all species
were wiped out. Scientific debate over weather
the meteorite strike alone caused the dinosaurs demise will most likely rage on and on. But one thing is certain, the time for the mammals had come. In the shadow of the dinosaurs the first mammals appeared, little unassuming creatures. With the giant reptiles out of the picture the way was now clear for them. Welcome to the Rhine River floodplain of the Eocene Age. It is 10 million years
after a comet impact has devastated our planet and Europe has migrated farther north. In the subtropical climate, mammals have come to dominate the scene. Here, where later
the Riesling grape will grow, we now find a lush primeval rainforest. Half of all known modern-day
mammalian groups are already in existence here. Birds, fish and insects, too, the entire animal kingdom
is almost the same as the present-day edition. Not the European one, however. Nowadays, many of the Eocene inhabitants live in the tropical regions
of South America and Asia. It's thanks to a volcano that we know exactly which animals
lived here back then. When the volcano erupted
48 million years ago, a 300 meter-deep crater lake was formed. Plants and animals were swept down
deep into the depths, but instead of being destroyed, they were preserved intact in oil shale. The Messel Pit,
near the city of Darmstadt in Germany. Here, layer for layer, a snapshot of a major event in geological history is being excavated. The fossil record tells of life and death at the crater lake. Most likely, poisonous gases
bubbling up from below had escaped the water
causing animals to asphyxiate, fall into the lake and drown. Many fossilized bats have been found. They must have swooped down
too close to the water's surface. Today, the Messel Pit
is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and a unique gateway
to prehistoric Europe. The oldest extant hand of a primate
was found here. The fossil finds in Messel are astonishingly true-to-life
imprints of the animals, shadows of skin, as well as
hair and plumage are depicted. Sometimes the stomach contents have even been preserved. The most spectacular find to date was made back in the 1980s. A 60 centimeter-long, monkey-like animal with a very long tail. The creature had most likely fallen prey to the same poisonous gases as the other animals
discovered in the shale. [animal mewing] 47 million years later, the little lady primate
caused quite a stir. Now known as Ida, she was long billed as the progenitor of the human race. Although no definitive evidence
for this was ever produced, her body does display
one of evolution's greatest innovations, gripping hands with opposable thumbs. The tropical Eocene forest, too, was eventually buried
beneath the layers of time. Now, whenever we scratch the surface, a glimpse of prehistory is revealed. Here, where the diggers now scoop
the last lignite out of the ground, virgin forests once lined
a long coastline. Slumbering beneath the lignite
are tons of amber. Frozen in time within it, the life of the ancient forests. Much of Western Europe
was now being covered over with a fresh layer of ice. Coming down from Scandinavia, the glaciers pushed all the way to London. Coming from the Alps, they made it
to the Chiemsee in Bavaria. The glaciers formed
and displaced earth and rock and bound so much water that vast areas of the North Sea
were drained. The Quaternary,
the most recent geological period, was a time of upheaval. There were repeated glacier thaws, with the melt water runoff
cutting deep gullies into the land. As the cold retreated northwards, the animals of the cold periods
disappeared. Forests spread out again. Hippopotamus, elephants
and rhinoceros migrated from the south
to the once-again-green habitats. Roe deer lived in the immediate
vicinity of the elephants in the tributaries
of the original Rhine. Forest elephants now lived where mammoth had previously grazed, and roe deer and wild boar came along to take the place of reindeer. The animals migrated in accordance
with the changing climate. But something significant had changed. The animals were no longer alone. In October, 1907, laborer Daniel Hartmann
made an astonishing find. [Hartmann]
My friends, today I done found Adam. Just days later, an anthropologist visited the sand pit. For 20 years, the researcher had been paying the workers
to excavate bones for him. His patience, and his investment, had finally paid off. [anthropologist]
Where exactly did you find him? Over yonder in the steep face. Hmm.
So, did you thoroughly search the spot? -Uh-huh.
-And did you find any more of them? This here, that, that, that and this. A-ha. The mandible belonged to a precursor
of the Neanderthal. It was given the name
Homo Heidelbergensis. The Age of Man had begun. Long before the first human
beings appeared in Europe, the Middle Rhine was formed. The Alps applied pressure from the south, creating the Central German Uplands. Then, 25 million years ago, the ocean retreated
from the rising mountain range leaving the Middle Rhine behind. It didn't hook up with the Upper Rhine
until 10 million years later. Much later still, human beings came along to make their unrelenting mark
on the landscape. During the century of industrialization, the Rhine, as many other European rivers, was straightened along its entire length, reshaping entire regions. The Romans brought the art of wine-making along with them to the south of France, to Germany, to Italy and to Spain. They laid the foundation
for the triumph of Riesling, Merlot and Cabernet. Although the landscape
along the Rhine doesn't suggest it, people here live closer
to the Earth's blowholes than they know. On the river island Namedyer Werth, a waterspout shoots up
to heights of up to 60 meters, the highest cold-water geyser on Earth. Not far from the geyser
lies an old crater lake, the Laacher See. In the Middle Ages,
an order of Benedictine monks retreated to the seclusion of the lake. They built a monastery
and called it Maria Laach. But the monks didn't suspect that they were living closer
to the brink of hell than to heaven. The extinguished fire mountains
in the Eifel region of Germany can reignite at any moment, as can the super volcanoes of Italy. No one can say if it will be in ten thousand years or next Tuesday. The last time the Maria Laach
volcano erupted, the result was destruction
of unimaginable proportions. The ash spread as far as southern Sweden
and northern Italy. For several days, avalanches of hot lava and ash barreled through the valleys, creating an almost 30 meter-high wall that dammed up the Rhine
and Mosel rivers for weeks on end. When the dam finally burst, a gigantic torrent of floodwater
went crashing downstream, all the way to the Netherlands, laying waste to everything in its path. [birds chirping] Long before this devastation, an ancestor of today's human beings
had lived throughout a large part of Europe
and the Middle East. Homo Neanderthalensis, the Neanderthal. [elephant screaming] [triumphant yelling] More than 200,000 years ago, this species of human
had already developed in Europe. In the coldest periods
the advancing glaciers had forced the Neanderthal
to up sticks and move on. Finally, however, the species succeeded in adapting to the cold. The Neanderthal was long assumed
to have been inferior to modern man in almost every way. Not so. Neanderthals knew
how to find the safest hideouts and the best hunting grounds. They were skillful craftsmen,
they tanned hides and fashioned clothing
out of leather and fur. The Neanderthals lived in small clans scattered across a large area. But even in the forests
of the warmer periods, survival wasn't easy. The dense woods were home
not only to deer, rhinoceros and forest elephants but to lions and hyenas as well. As the climate changed so, too,
did the habitat, but the Neanderthals
continued to adapt and survive. Nothing is known about their language, but the anatomy of their throat reveals they would certainly have been
able to communicate vocally. Their hunting implements
were already far more advanced than those of Homo Heidelbergensis. They used a sort of glue made of birch tar to fasten their knife-sharp flint blades
to their spears, a brilliant invention. Evidence shows that Neanderthals cared for their sick
and buried their dead. There is still much speculation
over why they eventually vanished from the face of the Earth
30,000 years ago. We were long thought to descend
from the victors over these primitives. But apparently, not all encounters between the two were hostile. The fact is, we do share a portion, albeit a small one,
of our genetic material with them. The Neanderthal lives on within us. For the last time to date, a great cold period
had Northern Europe in its grip. Now the wolves and the large grazers, mammoth, musk oxen and reindeer, wandered in their millions
over the wide open spaces. At the foot of the glaciers, a constant wind swept across the land. It was the northernmost outpost of life. When the cold here got too severe, the herds had to move on. The wolves were always hot on their heels. And they weren't the only ones
following the herds. In the midst of the cold period
human beings immigrated from the African savanna
to what is now Central Europe. For days on end
the hunter roamed the ice desert, searching for fresh meat for his clan. Wolves were among the first wild animals that humans not only hunted
but domesticated as well. The life of the hunters was dictated by the migration of the herds. As the animals changed feeding grounds, the human predators, too, repeatedly moved camp
along the great migration routes. In the summertime, the open steppe
was a fruitful hunting ground. But it was almost impossible
to track animals in winter, when the snow and wind covered their trail and they disappeared
against the white backdrop. Every year, the hunters waited for their prey to pass by on migration. But the great herds
slowly began to disappear, never to return again. Some species went completely extinct. Others left the land
of the Ice Age hunters. For a long time, human beings took the rap for the disappearance of the mammoth and the Megalosaurus. But the handful of hunters
can't be responsible for the extinction of these species. Rising temperatures
seems the more plausible answer for the animals' demise. The end of the Ice Age was the start of a geological restart process, because only after the glaciers melted could Northern Europe begin to become the place we know today. The scope and character of the North Sea
changed radically. It advanced farther and farther
to the south, flooding the vast plains
of the former glacier regions. A completely new habitat was born, the Wadden Sea. Fine-grained sand, gray-brown mud and turbid water
as far as the eye can see, that's about all the North Sea
has to offer. And yet, the ice desert of yore has become a richly diverse habitat. Twice a day, the tides flood
the Wadden Sea with a nutrient-rich brew. The mud offers both protection and food. Beneath the surface of the mud flats,
there is an abundance of life. This is the nursery for many fish that will grow up
to live in the North Sea. The lumpfish, too, spawns here. The male goes all out
to protect the spawn. After all, it's not his survival but that of his offspring that will secure the survival
of the species. After the eggs have hatched,
the larvae remain for some time in the safety of the shallow waters
before they swim out to sea. The cadavers of the father fish, dead of exhaustion, often wash ashore. In the spring and fall millions
of migratory birds make a rest stop at the Wadden Sea. The area has the largest bird population
in Central Europe. The Ice Age created an island of life. Far offshore, the North Sea
becomes quite rough. Amidst blustering waves, the island of Helgoland
rises up from the sea. Around 250 million years ago, the red island was still part of a desert. It's the only port of call far and wide for passing air travelers
in need of a rest. Once a year, the cliffs of Helgoland offer countless visiting seabirds a perfect place to rear their young. In the winter, long after
the migratory birds have left the island, gray seals appear on the beach. The bulls compete aggressively
for the best spots, trying to conquer the sections of beach where the sea cows gather
to await the birth of their young. Soon after the young are born, the gray seal mating season begins. One after the other the bulls come ashore, vying for ascendancy
in the fight for procreation. In the winter, winds churn the sea. Sharp tongues of surf lash away
at the cliffs and the beach, carrying off rock and sand and depositing it elsewhere. The work of human hands
attempts to stem the process. Along the Baltic Sea coast
things are much quieter. Here, where the Ice Age
has scooped out a basin and filled it with its melt water
to create the Baltic Sea, a broad belt of reed marshes and sand flats has developed, neither land nor water. Free of human intervention, large parts of the Baltic Sea shoreline are sanctuaries for coastal wildlife. The broad belts of marshland are the preserve of the marsh harrier that broods and rears its young
on the ground. The chalk cliffs of Rügen are also the product of the glacial ice, which pushed the island
up from the depths of the Baltic Sea. The chalk was formed in the dinosaur age from the tiny lime shells of plankton. Under the pressure of the glaciers this material grew to become
the distinctive chalk cliffs. The warm period covered the chalk
with a thin layer of plant matter. The roots of the plants
cling to the soft substratum. Without this protective covering
the surf and rainfall would have long since
washed the island away. After the end of the last Ice Age, the climate warmed up very quickly. The forest returned and along with it the animals we still know today. The people, who up until this time had been nomadic hunter-gatherers, now began to settle
and shape their environment. But as human civilization
took its baby steps entirely new conflicts arose. [shouting] Wildlife was no longer just a food source. For a farmer tending her fields
at the dawn of agriculture, deer were pests to be driven off. For the hunters, the farmers and their fields
were alien intruders. They chopped down the forests
and disrupted the hunting grounds. Agriculture, however,
won through in the end. With what is known as
the Neolithic Revolution mankind began a targeted campaign of adapting nature to its own needs. Villages and later cities were built and the population grew apace, because people were no longer dependent on what they could hunt and gather, but could now produce their own nutrition. The wildlife avoided human settlements, retreating ever deeper into the forests. Today's broad, open marshland habitat, on the other hand,
offers little protection. But it is here that migratory birds
gather each year to start their journey south. The flat, almost treeless land provides a good view for predatory birds, such as the marsh harrier, who aim to take full advantage
of the situation before the summer guests move on. When temperatures have dropped and the migratory birds
have flown off on their way, things go quiet on the North Sea coast, the world's largest marshland area. The place seems as remote and uninhabited as it was 2,000 years ago. Vast forests now covered
the majority of Western Europe. But along the Rhine modern civilization advanced all the way up to the north. After conquering
part of the Germanic settlement areas, the Romans right away began
building a supply and road network. The division, surveying and administration of Germania began. Thanks to a sophisticated
measurement technique the Roman roads cut across the landscape in perfectly straight lines. These roads connected the Roman camps that later developed into cities, including Cologne, Mainz and Koblenz. Off the beaten track
first laid down by the Romans, modern-day Germany is thinly populated. If the forest were still left
to its own devices today, it would cover almost the whole of Europe. But where human beings live
and intervene, fruit orchards, fields and pastures have supplanted
quite a bit of forest area. New habitats have been created. Here, sheep, cattle
and agricultural machinery prevent the forest
from reclaiming the land. The stork likes to be in close proximity
to human settlements and is the beneficiary
of a regularly occurring massacre, picking tasty tidbits
from the field in the aftermath. Mankind repeatedly carves out
a place for itself in nature. Until the early 19th century, wood was the most commonly used material and practically the only heating material. Entire regions were deforested. By this time,
the bears were almost all gone. Since the Middle Ages,
the forest had been used as a grazing pasture and the leaves blanketing the forest floor were cleared to use as straw in the stalls of livestock. Wood and charcoal supplied the energy to fire the ovens of the salt,
iron and glass industries. More and more charcoal burners
and piles were set up to produce wood charcoal. Huge amounts of which was needed to feed the booming nascent industries. Where wood supplies ran low, communities and cities passed laws
to protect the forests. Nobility, too, took action
against the deforestation. The landed gentry laid claim
to huge forest areas and took measures for forest
and wildlife conservancy but not from ecological conviction. The hunting classes wanted to save their stately game reserves
from destruction. Without the sport hunting
of the titled toffs the German countryside
would look a lot different today. For millennia, the hunt was an existential necessity
for human existence but in the early Middle Ages
it became a privilege. Nobility passed an edict over its forests. The farmers were not only
prohibited from hunting, they were not even allowed
to kill the game when it was caught plundering the harvest
in the fields. At that time there was a law that revoked the land rights of the peasantry as soon as the trees and shrubs
on it grew high enough to reach a rider's spurs. Nowadays the hunt not only serves to control the game population, it's also a popular recreational activity. A certain forest in eastern Germany, does not owe its existence to nobility. Legend has it that the Spree Forest, with its tangle of countless waterways, is a work of the devil. In fact, this labyrinth of water and woods is a legacy of the Ice Age glaciers. Here, concealed in the maze of streams, the black storks raise their young. They live on little fish and frogs that they have to share
with the snakes. The Spree Forest alder tree no longer grows in the natural way alone. The seeds that fall into the watercourses are fished from the surface
and then planted in the ground. The Spree Forest of today no longer bears any resemblance
to its primeval forerunner. Man reshapes landscapes that had developed over millions of years. 100 million years ago, exotic animals lived in the narrow estuary of what is now the border of Germany
and the Czech Republic. Their chalk shells and skeletons
sunk to the riverbed, collecting there layer by layer, millimeter by millimeter. This chalk, as well as the sand and stone deposited here by the wind and waters, piled up to create
mighty sandstone cliffs. When the ocean retreated, erosion took to the sandstone banks and turned them into the jagged
Elbe Sandstone Mountains. Diving down between the cliffs along the various rock strata is like time traveling
through the geological eras of the European continent. And construction is ongoing, as streams and waterfalls continuously change the rock face. As far back as the 11th century, people began mining sandstone. Later, with the development
of shipping on the river, quarries sprung up along the Elbe. The quarrying widened the narrow
Elbe Valley at several points. Rock for rock, the stone was broken and blasted from the walls. Shipped along the Elbe,
the stone blocks arrived to build the walls
of many magnificent sacred and stately buildings
throughout the world. Elbe sandstone is still quarried today and shipped to customers around the globe. Dresden's master builders,
old and new, have eroded the Elbe cliffs. For the reconstruction
of the historic Frauenkirche they returned once again to the old sandstone quarries. The Hamburg Town Hall
is built of Elbe sandstone, as are many of other buildings
in this urban landscape. The Falcons brood here, as they do in the cliffs
of the Elbe Sandstone Mountains. The animals have long since
made themselves at home in the man-made habitat. Today's major cities
are anything but hostile to life. They often offer
a greater diversity of habitats than the surrounding countryside. The iconic cathedral and Rhine bridges are unmistakable landmarks
of the Cologne cityscape. Tourists, floods of people, concrete and heavy traffic. You don't think of animals here. But the urban centers
don't just attract human beings. Animal immigrants from across the globe have made a new home for themselves
in the metropolis, adding color and variety to the scene. Our contemporary cities bring Europe's long journey
of transformation to a conclusion for now. Our journey is over but Europe will travel on
for a long time to come. We'll never know what direction
it will take in the future. whether it will one far off day
come to rest at the North Pole, or under the equatorial sun. We won't be there to see
if it gets clamped between two continents and lifted way up high, torn in pieces that sink into the sea, or covered by a kilometer thick
armor of ice. But one thing is certain, it will be an utterly different Europe than the one we know today.
