On a Clear Day (Hamburg, Germany, part 2)

The dry day promised, dear reader, did not eventuate. The new forecast was for rain. All day. Not heavy, but enough to be annoying. Had we been at home we would not have ventured out. We are not at home and who knows if we'll pass this way again. It was a case of dress for the conditions. My waterproof snow jacket has been vacuumed sealed and packed since we left Norway but I did not succumb to resurrecting it, even though it is Easter. It is wet but not really cold, so a cap and and umbrella would suffice for me. Jayne has been living in her snow jacket. No change required.

Flowers were doing their bit in the rain.

It is Easter Monday and Jayne noticed a change in the time difference between Europe and Australia. We didn't understand what had happened, nor could we explain it. Perhaps daylight saving had ended back home. A quick check with someone on WhatsApp proved otherwise. The next message was a screenshot of daylight saving in Copenhagen where we had just been, but it applied to most of Western Europe. Daylight saving had commenced here! We didn't know, although I did feel a bit more tired on Sunday morning. Fortunately we had nothing booked but, with computerised phones and watches, they all switched over automatically and secretly stolen one hour of my sleep.

Kunsthalle. Another view destroyed.

Suitably embarrassed, we dressed appropriately for the weather and set out on our self-guided tour of Álstadt (old town). First stop today was the Kunsthalle Art Gallery. We sheltered under a portico of a building on the opposite side of the road. It was closed, it's Monday, but there seemed to be a lot of people walking around the building and the lights were on. Despite this we stayed where we were, neither of us felt like a gallery viewing  but the exterior of the original portion of the building was worth seeing.

There were six lanes of main road separating us from the Kunsthalle and the incessant rain and wet surface did little to slow down the traffic. They drive fast over here. Unnecessarily so.

Nothing but ducks.

A little further along was Alster Lake. We continued our walk down one side and along the other. There was no sight of people with sailing boats today. Even the canal cruises were few and far between. It was great weather for ducks and they seemed to be enjoying it. The dreary day was brightened by a host of golden daffodils, planted the entire length of one bank. 

Wordsworth would approve.

Three sides of the lake were surrounded by high-end boutiques, designer brand stores and hotels. The other was a divider between the small and large lake. It was where the train services and vehicle traffic crossed the water. As the rain lightened a little, we encountered more people but it was deathly quiet for a major tourist area.

Alster Arcade. Hamburg, not Venice.

Not far from the lake is the Alster Arcade. It is a series of shops, mostly cafés, with a walkway that fronts onto one of the canals. The walkway itself is covered and a series of white arches frame the view of the canal and the Rathaus (townhall) with its markt. The tourist books and websites talk it up but it could do with a coat of paint. It looks a little jaded and faded.

Hammonia, the city's patron goddess sits over the entrance.

Past the shops where we can't afford to buy anything and not just because of the exchange rate, we ended up in the Rathaus Markt square. The rain had eased again and we decided to head inside the Rathaus. The foyer area is interesting in itself and we would have joined a tour but there were none in English. We contented ourselves with what was available. 

You can tell he's important by the pose.

The 16 columns in the foyer have the faces of important Hamburg residents carved into them. I didn't check every pillar but I'm a betting man and I bet there was not one woman among them. Above the windows to the courtyard were depictions of Roman gods in stained glass. In the courtyard itself was a large fountain adorned by statues, but we weren't permitted into that area.

All rather grand.

The Rathaus is still in use and there were certain areas locked off by black iron gates. All rather striking against the red carpets, marble and gold decorations.

The Roman god Mars, a scorpio of course.

We were around half way through our Alstradt tour. It was time for coffee somewhere near our next stop, but indoors and not crowded. St Peter's church was close by and we had passed the other side of it on our way to the Kunsthalle. Fortunately there was a coffee shop on the way. It was time for a break. Jayne's coat was getting heavy with water from the persistent rain.

A water fountain in the Rathaus foyer.

The coffee was good and it was nice to sit down. The guy running the place was absolutely lovely. Sometime in an earlier blog I talked about service or the lack of genuine service. This was the opposite. He was friendly and offered for us to move to a window seat which we attempted and gave up because of our wet clothes. Unconcerned, he was happy for us to make a mess of his café. This is probably the most attentive café/shop worker we've come across on this trip. It doesn't take much. Most of the time I feel as if I'm inconveniencing the shop assistants.

Impressive. They know how to build big.

It was a few minutes to St Peter's. Another impressive spire. Hamburg has thing about spires poking up through the clouds. I wonder what Freud would make of that. We went inside the church after photographing the brass door knockers made in 1342. Inside was pretty well what you would expect, rows of pews and spectacular stained glass windows behind the altar. There were some paintings of significance on the walls, but they were typically the dark hues of their genre and were difficult to shoot in the dark interior. The most interesting feature was a homeless man sheltering from the cold and rain.

The simple altar contrasts with the windows.

You keep knocking but ...

Next stop on our itinerary was Chilehaus. It is so named because it was originally a warehouse for spices and chili. It is a landmark building because of its shape. It comes to a point, much like the Flatiron building in New York, and resembles the prow of a ship. The balconies replete with balustrades, resemble the decks on a cruise liner. I'm sure it looks more impressive on a sunny day.

Come on, you can see it.

Around the corner was the Chocoversum. I'm not sure that translates into English, but it's like a chocolate factory that does tours explaining the process, blah blah blah. At some point you get to create your own chocolate bar. Really? What is the point? Perfection was reached when the Cherry Ripe was created and heaven attained when Cadbury bought MacRobertsons so the Flake and Cherry Ripe lived under one roof. So, at €21 per person, to spend the day with a bunch of uncontrolled ankle biters, the answer was no. €42 buys a lot of anything, let alone chocolate.

They did have chocolate Harry Potter wands on sale. I may have purchased one for my favourite child who will be identified because they respond to this part of the post. Imagine crunching that straight from the fridge? Accio!

Only €10 or $16.40 AUD. Bargain.

Moving on, we went in search of St Nikolai, a remnant church. That's probably an overstatement. It is a steeple and some crumbling walls, although the crypt also survives. This all that remains of the landmark that was once used for navigation purposes during World War II. It stood out amid all of surrounding Hamburg and guided the allied bombers to their target. 

The spire of St Nikolai which can be accessed by elevator is 147m tall. Thankfully the lift only goes about half way. I'm sure the view would be spectacular on a clear day, but, yeah, you know. Hence the title today, On a Clear Day. There were many options for this song but I chose one of the best to share with you. Click on the link and enjoy.

The spire of St Nikolai still stands.

Up to the viewing platform, pictures taken, it's time to go back down. Then Jayne noticed this guy who was looking extremely uncomfortable. His partner was enjoying the view and his unease and filmed him. He never moved far from the elevator and constantly pushed the button trying to summon his chariot of rescue. We joined in his journey to the ground and safety. During our descent, Jayne asked him if he was ok, given the lack of empathy his partner was exhibiting. "No, I am not. I am terrified of heights," which made his partner laugh even more.

Back on the ground the conversation continued during which we found out that they are Albanians who have moved to Hamburg to work in the medical system. Our acrophobic new friend spoke longingly about Albania, saying that he did not feel comfortable in Germany because he finds the people too cold. He was certainly keen to talk to us after we made the initial inquiry. Anyway, we were swapping travel tales about how great we had found Sweden and Scandinavia in general, when another passerby injected herself into the conversation to tell us she is Swedish and had come to Germany to enjoy the spring weather! Gross misjudgement, in our view, given the persistence of the precipitation since we have arrived. 

The Rathaus from the viewing platform of St Nikolai.

Anyway pleasantries exchanged, suggestions were made by us to try out our warmer, drier climate, to which they all agreed, "It would be lovely but it is too far to go and don't you have poisonous spiders and snakes everywhere?" Except the Albanian, "I don't fly. I even drive home to Albania". After this, we all went separate ways as we descended into the crypt, to view an exhibition on the WWII events that led to the destruction of St Nikolai and in fact, most of Hamburg. 

The crypt is an exhibition of wartime photographs, eye witness accounts and a graphic video presentation that documents Operation Gomorrah, the Allied forces bombing of Hamburg in 1943 in which 60% of the city was destroyed and over 200,000 people were killed or wounded during the firestorm. The attack was partly in response to the German attack on Coventry. 

The exhibition was extremely poignant and the scale of destruction depicted was mind boggling. We both commented on how similar we found the understated tone of the presentation was, to what we experienced in the Hiroshima Peace Memorial. This was in stark contrast to the Ground Zero exhibition in New York. 

After that sobering exhibition we returned to ground level and the drizzle and plotted a course for home.

Thank you for staying with me until the end, dear reader. It was a big day. We covered over 10 km on foot in the rain and weren't uncomfortable. Good clothing choices.

Until next time.