Jon Morgan

Ten years ago, I was in the UK and tried and failed to see a hedgehog. Then a year ago I unexpectedly saw one in the north of Germany. Let me tell you about it.

Childhood impressions

Despite living in Australia all my life, a lot of my reading material growing up was British, and that brought me into contact with British animals - or at least with the idea of them. There were foxes and rabbits, badgers and beavers, squirrels and dormice, moles and water rats, stoats and weasels. And of course there were the cute but prickly hedgehogs.

In Beatrix Potter, for example, there was Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle, the hedgehog washer-woman. Narnia had a few hedgehogs, too, and there were probably others that I don’t remember.

A first attempt to see them

In 2016 when I was staying in Dover I visited Canterbury for the cathedral, then decided to use the rest of my afternoon visiting Wildwood to see what British animals I could find. I was particularly pleased to spot the elusive badger and a swimming beaver, as well as an unexpected wild boar truly fit for a hungry Obelix. But when I visited the “night animal” section, I couldn’t see any hedgehogs - and nor did I see any in the wild the rest of my trip.

Visiting the Baltic

Last year I was back in Europe, this time exploring countries around the Alps. I expected to see a variety of wildlife, but it didn’t even occur to me to ask if they had hedgehogs.

Since my German travels took me to Hamburg, I figured I should spend a day by the Baltic, and maybe even go swimming there. No hedgehog-spotting on the agenda.

Then when I got off at the Lübeck-Travemünde Hafen station, I could see a wooded area that looked interesting:

My map showed it to be accessible, so I went to visit - and it turned out to be a cemetery. I wandered through looking at some of the headstones, then came to a bird feeder and stopped to watch:

Then I looked down, and suddenly saw an unexpected creature. What’s that?!?

Like I said, I really wasn’t thinking of seeing a hedgehog this trip, but I quickly figured out what it was - then scrambled to get pictures before it disappeared into the greenery again:

Like most such encounters, it was just getting on with its own life and not particularly interested in performing for me. I could hear it rooting about in there, and see occasional glimpses of it, but I couldn’t know whether it was ever going to come out properly.

Nearly ten minutes later, though, it did:

Apart from anything else, I was surprised by how small it was. I know hedgehogs aren’t even remotely related to our echidnas, but I guess in my head they both filled the “small prickly animal” slot and so had to be the same size… This one I could have fitted in my hand, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen an echidna I’d say that of.

Helping keeping the house clean

Fast forward to when I was in London for work this year. I arrived on a Saturday afternoon, agreed with myself jetlag wasn’t a thing, and visited the Charles Dickens museum. It’s in the house where he lived from 1837 - 1839, and thus the house where he wrote all of Oliver Twist and most of Nicholas Nickleby (for the record, I’d highly recommend it to anyone who likes Dickens).

The house kitchen showed me a different use for hedgehogs:

There it was, next to the stove:

The resident cleaner at work:

So there you have it: Hedgehogs - keeping Britishers honest since (at least) 1837.

Another example of taking the extra minute

My last post was about taking the extra minute, and how that’s an important part of my life philosophy. This Baltic hedgehog encounter is another good example.

Yes, this time it took me ten minutes, not just one, and that’s probably more time than most would spend on the encounter. But I spent that time because I’d wanted for years to see a hedgehog in the wild, and so when I did see one I needed to make the most of the unexpected opportunity.

The rest of the day I did the things I’d come to Travemünde to do:

• I took a ferry across the former Iron Curtain to Priwall, and saw the “Never Again Divided” memorial stone.
• I visited the aquarium, and saw some of the species living in the Baltic.
• I went walking by the Baltic, and then I swum in the Baltic.
• I saw (and photographed) a vast variety of water birds.

It would have been a great day if I hadn’t felt curious about that forested area on the other side of the tracks, or if I’d walked quickly through the cemetery and missed the hedgehog. But that encounter just gave me one more fun memory.

Travemünde was the furthest north I went that trip. The following day I headed nearly a thousand kilometres south to Switzerland, and within a couple of days I was back to walking in the Alps, with beaches and hedgehogs alike left far behind.

In Berlin the week before, I’d spent time watching squirrels and foxes in Berlin the week before. In the coming weeks I would spent time watching marmots in the Alps, a chipmunk in Geneva, and even a fire salamander in France.

None of those things were the primary reason why I was visiting those places, but nor did they detract from the primary reason - they just added a little something extra. Perhaps later I’ll write about some of those experiences and share photos of them too (though I promise I won’t drag them out to a separate post each 😛).