Passenger (Copenhagen, Denmark to Hamburg, Germany)

Today, dear reader, we set out for Hamburg. The route we mapped to Copenhagen Central proved a winner, although it was Easter Saturday and early by some standards (Jayne's). Still, we made the station, alive with bags intact, with 20 minutes to spare. Warning. This entire post (almost the entire post) covers the train trip. The photos are totally unrelated to the text. They have been included because I like them. Oh, come on, it's my blog.

As a result of the blog being almost totally about train travel, Passenger, by Powderfinger, one of Australia's best ever bands, is the title.

There were still necessities to purchase for the trip, like chocolate, I mean water. Water first. This needed to be a careful choice because last time I accidentally purchased sparkling mineral water and the bottle, when opened, well, you know, excitement for everyone else except the person holding the bottle. 

What? It's spring. I'm building a nest.

Down the escalator to platform 5, as designated by our German tickets. Track numbers are now platforms. We look at the indicator to see where our carriage is situated and there is a red line and an explanatory note saying "Do not board here". Sometimes I wonder why life can't be simple and work the way it is supposed to. Our ticket says carriage 9. Where carriage 9 should be pictured, the screen says, "Do not board here".

When the going gets tough, as the expression goes, the tough get going. So I did. Back up the escalator to the convenience store to buy chocolate. I mean water. And see if someone can explain the apparent contradiction between our tickets and the sign.

Competitive churching: I have golden domes, but the real Dome casts a shadow.

Have you been to Copenhagen central, dear reader? It is large, cavernous even, and there was no information or help desk I could see. The stores closest to platform 5 all had long queues so I went further afield and found  a 7-11, yes they are everywhere, with lesser patronage. Chocolate sorted, well it was an easier purchase than water, I located water, changed my mind and opted for another brand. Safety first.

With 10 minutes before the train is due to depart, everything is fine, except whether our carriage exists. Maybe it's like track 9 at Stockholm? As I reach the escalator, I'm looking for Harry Potter. Instead I see our train. Panic stations. Warning Will Robinson! Danger! Danger! The previously crowded platform is emptying quickly. I know the train won't leave, it's not scheduled to, yet. But my fear is finding a storage place for our large suitcase. We are, big breaths, travelling second class! The horror.

I have no idea. Divers quarters?

Jayne is waiting for me. That's a relief. You can never really be sure, can you? It's like that Tim Winton novel, sorry, I digress.

Carriage 9 is down there, she points towards the front of the train and we begin wheeling the bags to where one of the DB (Deutsche Bahn) employees is directing people onto the mythical carriage 9. Up the steps I lug the big bag to find the lower compartment of the luggage rack occupied by small bags and backpacks that could be stowed above the seats. Typical. I shoulder the 23kg suitcase and stow it on the second shelf. Our smaller bags go above our seats and we settle in, listening to the whining children a few rows in front. It's only 4 hours and 40 minutes to Hamburg ...

Everything seems fine. The bags are stowed, we are settled, I have chocolate, I mean water (hydration is important) and the children aren't too loud. The DB fast train feels fast. Finally, a train on time. Trust the Germans.

So we have yellow ducks; in Denmark they have purple.

I'm not sure where things started to fray, dear reader. Perhaps with my, ultra careful, opening of my water to discover it was, once again, sparkling mineral water as it sprayed all over my hand and the table. Seriously. What is wrong with these people? Why can't they drink plain bloody water? They have 70 flavours of sparkling rubbish and I choose the only bottle that states "100% original" and it is still sparkling bloody mineral water. That bit was in fine print on the side of the bottle, in German. Thankfully I had a Kit Kat to cheer me up.

Then the announcements and unscheduled stops began. From, "We are 1 minute late," to "The train in front has a medical emergency, we will now be 10-15 minutes late." The next announcement pronounced that our lack of progress against our lateness was due to a signal failure, maybe 20-30 minutes.

Daffodils were everywhere. Potted. The ground was too cold.

During each stop, the air conditioning stopped functioning. The noise of the train decreased in commensurate proportions to the increase in squawking of the children and the propensity to notice those people too ignorant to purchase headphones for their iPads/computers.

Twenty minutes from Hamburg they announced we were back on time. That saw movement throughout the entire carriage. People started donning their coats, shouldering their backpacks and tying their children down. "It must be a long lead in to the station," I remarked.

 Rosenborg castle grounds.

As we crawled to a slow stop, the station in sight, the next announcement came: "Sorry, we do not have a platform at the station." OK, I get the issue with planes and slots at airports, but trains? We are on a track. Anyway, we sat and waited and finally made Hamburg station 20 minutes late. So much for German scheduling.

From the station it was the usual trauma. Which exit do we take? Which way do we go? That was after battling up the stairs because the escalator was not working. The down escalator worked fine. Wouldn't you swap it over?

Dans means dance.

Up the stairs, out into the world of daylight and warmth. It was 20°. We haven't experienced temperatures like this since we left Australia. To ensure there were no mistakes this time, I programmed the address into Apple maps and Google. And the winner was ... us. It was a fairly straightforward route from the station to our accommodation, with precious few cobblestones.

Despite my sensible clothing, no thermals, I was still sweating when we reached our destination. It is a beautiful one bedroom apartment in Hafencity with views of the Elbe River. Chrissy, our host was on hand to show us through the apartment and answer any questions. And also to remind us that the next two days are public holidays and if we wanted to shop, it needed to be today.

Seagull, I guess.

Once we were established in the apartment, we walked the few minutes to a choice of stores. Food and wine purchased, we returned to the apartment to stow the food and go wandering. There is a Vietnamese restaurant in the building, dinner is sorted.

What happens if you come home during changing of the guard? You wait.

Transit days are always stressful and eventful. This one was no different. A good Vietnamese meal and a couple of Saigon beers relaxed us. The welcome pack of Kinder Surprise chocolates and a couple of Hamburg specialty ales when we returned home didn't hurt either.

Until next time.