CGSwans flies north for the winter

That is basically what it is and has been so for quite some time, though the ankole and reindeer are rather recent additions...

It is indeed the former primate and bird house. The first walkthrough was all primate (hamlyn's monkey, bornean orang utan, spider monkey, squirrel monkey, crested macaque and mandrill) the last 3 were the birdhouse.

Only the exhibit itself is new, formerly it was a row of about 5 crocodile and tortoise exhibits, the viewing hasn't changed...

The meerkats are there to act as a control against the mice population, they had them in the former primate house as well and when they were also still on the savanna (mixed with the zebra), there were at some point 5 enclosures with meerkats in them.

Today in Lisbon I saw a meerkat mixed with the male elephant, which is probably even more unusual

The lions will be getting a new enclosure on what is now the parking lot. Their enclosure is a listed monument, so cannot be tampered with too much...

Every Dutch person would have told you so and fortunately the lonely planet hasn't picked up on this yet, because we do not need Chinese tourists in every city

Which is half the number of a few years ago

They indeed have their own script, which is followed pretty well at every presentation it seemed

With barbary macaques I am quite happy about that They are not the nicest monkeys and can be notoriously annoying for visitors and with their size it is better not to mess with them

 

When I was there in Summer of 2012 they displayed reindeer, ankole, domestic bactrians, and perhaps one more ungulate

 

Zoo #5,875,321ish, Rotterdam Zoo, last Wednesday I think.

A vexing post, this one, which is why I’ve left it to gather dust for a week, along with a more general writing malaise. But, I’ve loosely planned to visit my next zoo tomorrow so I need to somehow get something written. I can see, with a week’s reflection, that Rotterdam didn’t stand much of a chance, between the high expectations it had to overcome and the extraneous factors of the day. Nevertheless, it goes into the book as one of those that left me ever so slightly dissatisfied.

My hostel had advertised €12.50 zoo tickets: bargain! What I didn’t know until after I’d paid, though, was that the special price only applied from 1PM: I needed to be leaving the zoo by 4:30 so that simply wouldn’t do, and ultimately the hostel (who carried the fault for not explaining what I was buying until too late) had to ring the zoo to figure out what to do, as they evidently book the tickets on guests’ behalf online. The solution was that all I had to do was make myself known at the gate and I was let in, a little after 11, for the discount price. I was about to explain the kerfuffle to the staff at the desk when he interjected, identified me by name, and sent me inside. It was the closest thing to VIP treatment I’ve experienced since Tomas was so generous with his time back in Plzen.

Inadvertent discount aside, Rotterdam was flying into two significant headwinds. I was leaving the Netherlands – and the Schengen zone – that evening, and so my Schengen visa-busting efforts were about to be put to the test. I knew what I’d done was legal, and I had what I figured was a strong circumstantial case in the form of hostel bookings and train tickets to show that I hadn’t spent 90 days in the Netherlands. But I was also conscious that the rules I was relying on aren’t well known, and I wasn’t sure what, if any, trouble I’d have from border guards. In the end it was fine, of course, but the nagging concern weighed on my mind all day.

The other headwind was both more prosaic and more important. I’d woken that morning to news that a close friend of several of my friends had died suddenly, aged just 28. I didn’t know this woman, so (kind and well-intentioned) condolences would feel out of place (indeed, I feel slightly fraudulent even mentioning it), but the news weighed on me anyway: Clara was a dear friend to some dear friends, and I knew enough about her to know that she was a brilliant, driven and thoroughly decent woman. Learning of her death was enough of a shock that, I can see now, I just wasn’t much in the mood for a zoo trip.

But there I was, anyway, and I strove to make the best of it. And the best of Rotterdam is very good indeed, even if I think the totality of the zoo isn’t quite all I hoped it would be. Aside from the neither-here-nor-there wallaby and wolf exhibits, the first portion of the zoo I did was the African section, albeit it with much twisting and turning as I tried to find my way around. Eventually I worked out that the greenhouse and netted aviary I could see *was* the okapi exhibit I was looking for, however unlikely that might seem. The (rather hot and steamy) indoors and paddock-turned-aviary outdoors combine to make the best okapi exhibit I’ve seen, I think: one okapi paddock is much like another, but Rotterdam have thought about how to get maximum value from the space. The other hoofstock exhibits in Africa are all quite good, too.

Africa’s best, however, is its enormous flight aviary for assorted bloodthirsty birds. I’m lukewarm about keeping raptors and vultures in zoos, not because I have an innate objection but simply because they so often get the short end of the stick, to borrow from a thought-provoking current thread. I timed my visit to this aviary well, with a feeding session in full swing. The keeper was doing her best Pratt-keeping impression as she kept a horde of Marabou storks at bay while throwing pieces of meat in the air for the kites to catch on the wing, and even a couple of vultures took to the air (albeit briefly). One of the best avian exhibits I’ve seen in Europe. Shortly after leaving the aviary I spotted a vulture perched on the edge of the (quite excellent) lion enclosure. Were vultures native to Rotterdam? I didn’t imagine so, and resolved to alert a keeper at the first opportunity that they might want to count their vultures.

From Africa I crossed under the road to what I assume is a more recent territorial expansion, though so much of the zoo is relatively new that it’s hard for me to be sure. I had my highest hopes here, between the polar bear exhibit and Oceanium, as well as a couple of other bits and pieces, but I was disappointed. The bears are great – second only to Hanover and perhaps Munich I think – but I was underwhelmed by Oceanium, with its fake corals and general ‘half-arsed Sea Life Centre’ vibe. I’ve gotten far more enjoyment out of less ambitious zoo aquarium exhibits, such as Berlin and Zurich. Amazonia, meanwhile, is another Dutch masterpiece of a butterfly exhibit, for which I’m not giving Rotterdam enough credit simply because I don’t really care about butterflies. For those that do, however, perhaps the three best places I’ve been to to see them are all in the Netherlands: Burgers, Amsterdam and Rotterdam.

At this point I still had the sprawling Asia section to go, but I just wasn’t quite feeling it, partly because of the weightier issues that were on my mind, but partly too because I was questioning whether Rotterdam really deserves the plaudits it gets. It has some great stuff, sure, but there’s also significant chunks that are so-so, and I caught myself thinking that this is another American-style zoo, with fancy packaging for what are in many cases not particularly big or impressive exhibits. The Asian section was one good – but only good – exhibit after another, though I did have a long run of no-shows – including both macaque species, rhinos and leopards – and that probably didn’t help.

In the end I gave relatively short thrift to most of the Asian section, went to check out Biotopia and, upon finding that it was mostly a kid’s playground, called time on Rotterdam, time on the Netherlands, time on continental Europe. About the last thing I did in the zoo was finally find a keeper to report my rogue vulture: apparently it belongs to the bird show, and has a habit of hanging out for a bit before returning home, so that was an anti-climax too.

I keep reading this post back and being dissatisfied with it, but it’s a week since my visit and neither it or the visit itself are going to get better. What I will say in support of Rotterdam is that of the zoos that have underperformed my (high) expectations – Beauval, Basel and Leipzig are the most prominent others – I’m more convinced that Rotterdam would please me more on a subsequent visit than any of the others. I still think it’s a bit of an American cuckoo in the European nest, but I’ve been known to enjoy them on the right day as much as any other zoo. This just wasn’t the right day.

 

So now you're in the land of hope and glory then? Unless you decided to skip us and go for a pint of nasty tasting black s**t!

 

Not sure about hope and glory but it has crappy weather, crappy food and crappy cricketers. Does that help narrow it down?

 

It's definitely Ireland then, they don't even have a cricket team!

*I don't follow cricket so as far as I know you might even be in Sri Lanka.

 

Ireland are, in fact, now a Test cricketing nation.

 

And that proves my (cherished) ignorance in the subject!

 

Zoo #56 - I went back and counted this time - London Zoo, something/09/2017

I don’t think any European Zoo tour could be complete without a visit to those storied 36 acres in Regent’s Park. Certainly mine wouldn’t have been, regardless of its much reduced status across the zoo world (I am reluctantly concluding that my wonderful neologism ‘zooniverse’ will not catch on).

I’d asked FunkyGibbon for some advice on how much time to allow. My progress around zoos has actually begun to slow in this last stretch of the trip, which I think has less to do with my level of engagement increasing than it does sheer exhaustion. I suspect I’m moving like a 70 year old who’s been through the wars, but won’t go to see a physio because they don’t believe in quacks. I’d floated four hours as what I thought would be a suitable middle ground between London’s compact mediocrity and my lumbering inertia, but Funky suggested five.

I reluctantly roused myself to leave the hostel at 12 then, thinking to be there by one, and with the zoo closing at six I would have five hours, and could tell Funky I told him so when I left at five anyway. I decided to walk the 4km or so from my hostel: the Tube was relatively indirect anyway, and I figured it would be a nice walk along the Canal and past Lord’s. I forgot, until it was too late, that my umbrella had fallen in the line of duty the previous day at the Tower of London. It was thus inevitable that I would have to endure a downpour on the way to the zoo, heavy enough to prompt me to shelter in somebody’s doorway (thankfully they didn’t try to come out, which would have been foolish because it was raining). I don’t believe I was ever outside for more than an hour without getting rained on, across 12 days in London. I just don’t know how you lot live like this.

So it was 1:30ish by the time I was able to walk all the way to the zoo without drowning, but that was ok, because I’d still have four and a half hours there and meet FunkyGibbon halfway. Except wherever I’d read that the zoo was open until six was wrong: it’d be closing at 5:30. So I had four hours after all. Sorry Funky. I listened, but I didn’t inhale. Luckily it was enough, although I did have to contend with more bursts of rain. I’m convinced British weather is in a race to the bottom with Britain’s food, to see which can break the spirit of the nation first.

I had the briefest moment of unpleasantness on the way in. The zoo admission fee is eye-watering at £27ish pounds, and I was slightly miffed at having attempted, and failed, to buy my ticket online (the website was on strike or something), so I was having to pay an extra couple of pounds. Then they helpfully added my ‘donation’ straight onto the price I was charged. I wasn’t having it. I have donated to zoos in the past and will again in future, but those ones don’t presume to decide I will contribute on my behalf. I made the cashier charge me the donation-less price, and he was a bit pissy but he did it. And Brits are so disarmingly polite – an entire nation so embarrassed by the weather and the food, and perhaps also that they keep inventing sports only to be ritually and habitually humiliated when attempting to play them – that they make up for it by having a default setting of ‘I’d take this one home to meet grandma’ at all times. So even my pissy cashier wished me a very happy visit.

Having now written several hundred words on my way in the gate, I’m going to wrap things up reasonably quickly, because this zoo is obviously so familiar to many who will read this and also because I’m tired and have a London chapter of my blog to write.

Let’s start by saying what it is not. It is not the London Zoo of 50 years ago, when it had every animal known to man and probably a few that were only known to women as well. It cannot be that, not unless they are suddenly allowed to sprawl out across the rest of Regent’s Park. And having walked the really very compact site, I struggle to believe that it once had that immense collection, and I’m glad they no longer do. Nostalgia is one thing. Perpetuating mistakes of the past is another.

So London has had a challenging job to do. Weighed down by its august history, in the form of 13 buildings it’s barely allowed to touch, it has had to retrofit a 21st century zoo into a 19th century site. There has obviously been a lot of work done since the near death experience in the early 1990s, with nearly all the major exhibits either dating from after that time, or having been significantly refurbished. And whilst they haven’t done a perfect job, I think they’ve done reasonably well. The tiger and gibbon complex is a highlight. The theming in the lion area is Hanoverian, but unlike that zoo which I so incongruously enjoyed, at London it feels out of place with its surroundings. The lions don’t care though: they’re only interested in the quite sizeable and varied space they have. The gorilla and penguin exhibits are both mediocre.

I rather suspect it’s not the now-lost big mammal exhibits that people pine for, though, but the collection, and to be honest I just don’t understand how anybody can look down their nose at a zoo that features pottos (seen, unlike at Amsterdam), aye-ayes (unseen, unlike at Frankfurt), aardvarks, narrow-striped mongooses, Panay cloud rats, bearded pigs and I can’t even be bothered going past the mammals. This is still a great collection for life tick-hunters.

Indeed, as I wandered I was forming the conclusion that Zoochat had set London up to succeed. Never having seen it in its years of plenty, I wasn’t judging London by what it used to be, but by what it is. And I think it holds its own against at least some of its urban near-contemporaries. It’s as good a zoo as Artis, in my view. Better than the Jardin des Plantes. For that matter, probably better than Vincennes too. The history of the place didn’t detract from my experience of a decent but unspectacular zoo: it enhanced it. I’m very likely the only person who will visit London for the first time this year and take delight in putting a terrace to the name Mappin, a pavilion to Blackburn, and an aviary to Snowdon. Even with its wretched bin chickens.

 

I think this is a pretty fair analysis of London Zoo - although I'm not sure that i can agree that it is as good a zoo as Artis. Maybe my familiarity with London has bred contempt. You don't mention what many might see as London's highlights: the aquarium, reptile house and invertebrate house. They're not perfect, but they're good to very good.

On a more general note: your criticism of English weather is more than valid - it's often horrid, and this year especially so. But you cannot criticise English food so carelessly! "English" cuisine truly is a melting pot of food from across the world, and, as such, is, I think, the best in the world: Anglo-Asian food is enough in its own right to justify such a claim!

 

Come to Melbourne. We'll show you how it's done.

 

Zoo #57, Edinburgh Zoo, it must have been last Wednesday.

I’d like to take a moment to thank @TeaLovingDave for making my day a pleasant one. Without his vocal dismay at the current state of Edinburgh Zoo I might not have enjoyed my afternoon quite as much as I did, as I was expecting a much more dismal experience (although the weather made up for what the zoo lacked in misery). Hopefully one day he comes to Melbourne Zoo and I can return the favour with my own familiarity-bred contempt.

Edinburgh wasn’t going to be part of this trip until quite recently. I’d intended, after London, to bounce around England’s West for a few days, visiting Bristol Zoo and Cotswold Wildlife Park along the way. Cotswold fell by the wayside first: I’d planned to stay in Oxford, from where you can get a bus to a nearby town and then walk the remaining 3.5km or so to the zoo. In April I would have done it, but at this late stage in the trip I knew the effort would be more than I could be bothered with. And Bristol eventually got discarded for a combination of cost and apathy as well. I’d still very much like to visit both, but they’ll have to wait. I’m very glad I went to Edinburgh instead, because it turned out to be one of my favourite cities of the entire journey, and I’m desperate to go back.

I arrived at about 1:30, having only belatedly made the decision to go that day for fear the weather would be even worse the next. Upon arrival I was asked when I’d like to see the pandas? There are spots available at 1:45, so I could go straight away! I can’t say my enthusiasm matched the sales attendant’s own, but very well, I said, let’s get the blob bears out of the way. And speaking of getting things out of the way, on the way past I saw the obligatory flamingoes, meerkats and fugly Waldrapps. The only way was up – both figuratively and literally, because the zoo is on the side of a hill.

I was intercepted on the approach into the pandas by a staff member who had a pre-mission briefing for us. Apparently pandas don’t like noise – nobody has told the pandas at Berlin, who were coping just fine – and the female was off-display because it was breeding-attempt season. Oh, and the male hasn’t come outside today either. But we could go through and try our luck, and maybe – maybe – we’d be allowed to try again later in the day if required. There was no male panda on view, and I’ve seen enough pandas not to bother a second time. The exhibit was pretty disappointing for one of the newest I’ve seen, as an aside.

I emerged from the panda disappointment into the part of the zoo with the penguins, and for the first time I remembered that not only is one of them a commissioned colonel in the Norwegian Navy – are there no warrior penguins in Norway itself? – but that they were about to go on parade. So I watched the parade, which involves lining up along a path for about two minutes as one king and four gentoo penguins briefly waddled outside, shepherded by five keepers. This is, without doubt, the weirdest special attraction in any zoo I’ve visited. And I’ve seen Georgia Aquarium’s dolphin show.

At this point I wasn’t really feeling Edinburgh, to be perfectly honest, but things picked up once I hauled myself, in first gear, to the top of the hill. Paddocks as simple as paddocks can be, but they’re attractive and watching the guanacos – or were they vicuña? I forget – as they frolicked around was fun. There was a glaring omission here though. I’m not usually one to advocate for more domestics in a zoo, but where on earth were the highland cattle? They’re not pandas, sure, but they are still an attraction for visitors to Scotland.

The best exhibit in the entire zoo, I think, is the lions: after decrying the lack of good lion exhibits in Europe I’ve had four great ones in the last five zoos, with Burgers, Rotterdam, London and now Edinburgh. The tiger exhibit is decent, too, and the adjoining paddocks for zebra and nyala are gorgeous too. And there were more basic, unremarkable but nevertheless attractive exhibits as I finally got to go downhill, including the wallabies and sun bears. There’s also a couple of misses, the most conspicuous of which is Budongo. Well, to call it a ‘miss’ is probably a touch unfair: the exhibit itself is modest but not bad, per se. What I couldn’t really understand was the oodles of money that was evidently spent on effectively empty indoor space that looks like it escaped from a mid-market conference centre.

I’ve left the best thing to comment on until last. I *loved* the research centre for capuchins and squirrel monkeys. As I approached I saw that there were two identical enclosures, each with groups of both species, and wondered why for about five seconds, and then twigged: I was looking at treatment and control groups. Zoos bang on a lot about education, which usually boils down to signs, warning of environmental catastrophe, that people don’t read and keeper talks they half-listen too. Well, they may or may not read the signs here but those that do are treated to a genuinely fascinating window into the nuts and bolts of scientific research. The exhibits themselves are of a piece with Edinburgh – okay, but nothing special – but their very reason for being makes them the star of the show.

I’m reading this post back and I have to admit it’s a bit of a plodder. Never mind. The next one is written and it’s a little better.

 

It is amazing how much effort the British put in forcing you to visit zoos by car and how they want you to avoid public transport at all costs. Is this something for which the government is responsible or do zoos just pick the most isolated locations? I cannot think of any major zoo on the European mainland (France aside) that does this as well, the only reason why I normally walk to zoos is because I am Dutch and then I can spare myself the cost of taking the bus

 

The route I had planned would have taken me along the wonderfully British 'Hen and Chick Lane' from Carterton, which I imagine wouldn't have been nearly so bad?

 

I know that road and I wouldn't like to put money on it being safer, in fact I once had a very near head on crash on my way to visit a private collection of cobra. Which sadly no longer exists. But I did briefly have my life flash before my eyes, as a result of the near miss on that road.

 

Who knew the English countryside could be so dangerous?

 

That's nothing, have you seen Midsomer murders!!!!

 

Zoo #58, Chester Zoo, 24/09/2017

Well.

I didn’t have particularly high expectations of Chester. It was one of the 12 zoos I expected to be fighting out the top ten (the others in order of visit were Beauval, Basel, Zurich, Vienna, Prague, Berlin Zoo, Leipzig, Munich, Cologne, Burgers and Rotterdam). But for all that it is by far the most prominent zoo on Zoochat, I put that down to the heavy UK presence here, and the thought that it might be a big fish in a relatively small British pond. The first of those assumptions holds, I think. The second was very wrong.

I wish I’d stayed the night in Chester itself. I only discovered there was a hostel there a couple of days ago, but I was already booked into an adequate, if slightly depressing place in Liverpool. I indulged my Beatles obsession for a day, but I had another day that had been assigned to a Swans Final that never happened, and then became a writing day, but that never happened either. My brief walk through the town of Chester was enough to tell me I would have enjoyed that day much more if I’d been there, rather than in Liverpool, but oh well.

Despite the hour long transit, I somehow managed to be there at opening. I headed straight for Islands, partly because I thought it might get crowded with the boat ride, and partly because whenever I’m at a zoo at opening time I find the quiet lasts a bit longer if I power-walk across the zoo, while everybody else starts closer to the exit. So I moved quickly through the series of African hoofstock paddocks, in gorgeous soft mid-morning sun, and noted in passing that they were all very simple but aesthetically pitch-perfect.

I’m not sure if this is a consensus or controversial opinion, because I’ve avoided reading the thread about it, but I think Islands is a very mixed bag for what I understand is one of the most expensive exhibits ever built in the UK. There’s a couple of nice aviaries, but I thought they were under-used, and while I know they’re not quite Southeast Asian I reckon Waldrapp ibis would be a wonderful addition, perhaps replacing the ho-hum Javan green magpies.

More seriously, it’s a somewhat perplexing complex. There is some stuff here that is truly fantastic: a wonderful Sulawesi crested macaque exhibit that’s a triumph inside and out: I’ve been banging on for months about how European zoos should be giving more thought to the quality of their indoor quarters if they’re going to be on display, and Chester just *gets* it. Most of the other exhibits in Islands are also very good. The sun bear enclosure is up there with Burgers. The babirusa exhibit even has grass!

The tiger exhibit, meanwhile, was perfectly fine for tigers, but the fence is over-bearing, and for millions of pounds I would have thought they could soften the appearance a little. The other thing I found a little weird was just how many of the animals on display here also pop up elsewhere in the zoo: orangutans, anoas, babirusas and various birds are all repeat exhibits. And I made the mistake of going on the boat ride, in which myself, two squealing machines and two squealing machines’ parents moved at a glacial speed around the exhibits. Hanover’s is much better.

Islands, I was astonished to note, had taken me well over an hour to get around, and because I needed to have an early lunch I headed towards the food court, stopping in at the bat house along the…

Wow.

It’s so simple: a darkened tin shed and two relatively common species. But 650 of them! And the tin shed is massive! But I got bopped on the nose by a short-tailed bat anyway! How has this exhibit, which I’m told is really quite old, not inspired another hundred like it across the world? I’ve lost count of how many times, in Australia and everywhere else, I’ve seen a dozen or so fruit bats perched at the top of a rainforest house or aviary, just hanging about doing nothing because it’s day time and they’re off duty. But Chester has turned an after-thought into one of the best exhibits in the world. No other bat exhibit will ever compare. It’s an insult to Chester *to* compare them.

As I kept heading towards lunch I passed through more exceptional exhibits: for spectacled bears, for lions, for cheetahs. They’re mostly of very simple, unadorned construction, but every single one is spacious, complex and species appropriate. If there’s a cramped enclosure at this zoo I missed it. I was by now on guard for a Zurich Ape House – something to burst the bubble – and thought I found it when I spotted half a dozen chimps sitting motionless in an ugly indoor exhibit. Then I found the outdoor portion with another dozen chimps. False alarm, then. I looked for the bubble-burster in Realm of the Red Ape, but it’s not in there either. It reminds me a little of Melbourne’s orangutan complex, but while Melbourne’s rather abstract primary outdoor exhibit might be superior the overall Chester complex tops it.

So I kept looking. Komodo dragons? Nope. It’s fine. Giant otters? Maybe a tad disappointing, but only in the way that a B Minus might disappoint an impossible to please parent. What about the jaguars, then? Nobody gives jaguars the enclosures they deser…

Wow.

Remember what I said about how Chester understands what they need to do with indoor displays? The jaguar exhibit is another gold standard. No it’s not: the gold standard eventually failed, but I don’t believe this exhibit ever will. I found the indoor enclosure first, and I initially thought it was the whole thing (I gather it must be when the jags are separated, but they are currently together and were flirting outrageously directly next to the window). And here’s the kicker: even before I found the gorgeous, massive, I-can’t-believe-a-zoo-treats-its-jaguars-so-well outdoor enclosure I was willing to declare the indoor bit the best jaguar exhibit I’ve seen on this trip. It’s big and it’s beautiful and it is decidedly not something that was going to burst my bubble.

Tropical Realm, then? Nope. It must just about be the oldest rainforest house I’ve seen in Europe, but it holds up. A wonderful great big free flight hall, with some lovely terraria and two tremendous side aviaries for rhinoceros hornbills. Just how often do you see side aviaries in these buildings that are barely adequate for big, intelligent birds like macaws and hornbills? But Chester treats its hornbills to aviaries that are bigger than many leopard or jaguar cages. Stands to reason, given they treat their jaguars to enclosures bigger than some elephant exhibits.

I finished my search for Chester’s weak link back in the area I’d rushed through that morning. Was it the black rhinos? No. The monkey house! Monkey houses are always a disappoint-

Oh.

It’s amazing. Only a handful of enclosures but each indoor one is as good as many zoos’ outdoor exhibits, and the outdoor exhibits are Apenheul-worthy. And aside from them there’s a smattering of enclosures for smaller Neotropical primates that all appear to be connected to outside islands with full access to mature trees, but even without them they’d be above average. Is it the aviaries near the black rhinos? Nope. The enormous wetland aviary would be much I proved by walk-through access, but that doesn’t detract from the excellence it already has, and the Tsavo aviary was my holy grail: a high-quality walk-through aviary without bin chickens! Ok, granted, I did find the bloody Waldrapps in the big aviary near the giraffes, but it took more than five hours before I found them. Close enough.

I had to eventually conclude that, well, there truly are no skeletons in Chester’s closet. Of course it’s not perfect and never will be: even the world’s best exhibit for any given species can be easily improved upon simply by adding another square metre. There’s some stuff that’s ‘only’ at the European standard, such as the chimps and elephants, or that feels like an after-thought (the aquarium), but there’s nothing I can point to and say ‘fix it. Fix it now.’ For a zoo Chester’s size, is that not an astonishing feat?

Believe it or not, Chester has excelled itself so much that I’m now deterred from visiting a zoo as a result (PETA will be so confused). Chester is my 58th zoo on this trip. I’d been to 58 before I left home, so I’ve now doubled my life tally, and the symmetry is quite satisfying. And although I have one more city – and had planned one more zoo – before heading for home, Dublin will have to wait until next time. I simply can’t imagine a better ending to this Grand Tour of Europe’s zoos than Chester.

The End.

 

You could have dropped me a message. I could have meet up with you, I could also have provided a free bed for the night. Glad you enjoyed Chester, pity you didn't have time to explore the city as it is superb, a place full of history in some very unexpected places.