What’s in a name? Here on the banks of the Rhine, you’ll find the answer isn’t always obvious. We’re standing before the Ölgangsinsel, a name that seems to promise an “island of oil spills.” Don’t worry, this place is anything but! The “Öl” in Ölgangsinsel actually harks back to a time when the Rhine whispered tales of eels, not industry. This stretch was once a haven for those slippery creatures, and “Aal,” the German word for eel, morphed into “Öl” over time. Although connected to the mainland, the Ölgangsinsel still holds the spirit of an island. In fact, plans are afoot to return it to its isolated roots. Since 1977, this 57-hectare haven has been Dusseldorf’s oldest nature reserve, a testament to its quiet beauty. The air hums with the calls of grey herons, their rookery nestled high in the trees. Look closely and you might spot a flash of gold as an oriole flitters through the branches. The dominant poplars stand tall, untouched by human hands, guardians of the island’s wild heart. Yet, this peaceful refuge hides a secret. The very ground beneath our feet, while teeming with life above, holds a legacy of industrial pollution. The Rhine, for all its beauty, was once a conduit for industrial waste, and the Ölgangsinsel, like a silent sentinel, absorbed its share. Plans to sever its link to the mainland, to let the Rhine flow freely and truly make it an “island,” are hampered by this invisible burden. It’s a reminder that even in the quietest corners of nature, the echoes of human actions linger.
Rank-Xerox-Haus
“Imagine working in a building shaped like a honeycomb!”” Right here, you see the Rank-Xerox-Haus, a masterpiece of Brutalist architecture.