What is Life (Hamburg, Germany, part 1)

And a happy Easter Sunday to you, dear reader. Yes, our days are not aligned.

The apartment is lovely. It is one bedroom with separate living area, kitchen and bathroom and has views over the Elbe River. It is comfortable, well appointed and it feels like home. Hafencity is an area of Hamburg that is still undergoing redevelopment. It is part of the port area that is being turned into a community. There are walks along the river and canal, parks, museums, galleries, restaurants, shops and the Elphi. It's the sort of thing we could have done in Sydney if the $ wasn't the prime motivation for doing everything. They are building a community, not just apartments to sell off to those who can afford them.

The canal over from us looking back to the Elphi.

The weather hasn't improved a lot, dear reader. It is still grey and drizzly. The air quality is like Sydney post the fire works. One of our hosts has told us the smoke and haze is due to bonfires, a German tradition over the Easter break.

Love the old architecture.

We sat in our picture window on the first floor and watched our host, Chrissy distribute Easter eggs liberally throughout the park area below. It is Easter Sunday and the hunting ground was being prepared. The children were soon there running and squealing, searching for the bounty. We chatted briefly with Chrissy and Stefan before we set out into the unknown, our first full day in Hamburg. There was no guarantee of what would be open on a public holiday. Although we did find a place that served coffee within a couple of hundred metres of the apartment.

Spring is trying to break through.

Since the whole day's plan was a hypothetical, we decided to see if the tourist information centre was open. The location is not far from our apartment but, on approach, it seemed just as we had expected - the building was all in dark. We went to the notice on the door to try to translate the opening hours over the Easter weekend.

While we were busily Googling, the door suddenly opened a young lady, a tourist officer, came out to see if we needed assistance. We expressed our surprise at the place being open on Easter Sunday but she simply said it was normal hours today but would be closed tomorrow, as it is every Monday.

A model of Hafencity focused on our area.

She provided us with a walking map of our Hafencity/Speicherstadt zone and also suggested we join a free guided tour of the area at 3pm. As a new employee, she would also be joining the tour to learn the ropes from an experienced guide. The only catch was the tour was in German, not English.

The tour would not include the Elphi so we decided to visit this local landmark ourselves while we waited for the tour to begin. The Elphi is the shortened version of Elbphilharmonie, a concert hall that has been developed utilising an old warehouse as its base. It rises above the warehouse, resembling a sail or the waves on the Elbe River. It has three concert venues, the Westin Hotel and some luxury apartments.

Looking down our street to the Elphie.

The glass panels of the exterior of the building reflect the surroundings. It looks different depending on what time of day it is and this is obviously influenced by the sun, or in our case, lack thereof. I'm not sure a drab, grey day is showing her in her best light.

Looking from the Elphie down our street.

Entry to observation deck is free, although you need a ticket to scan, and it is accessed by an 82 metre curved escalator, the longest in Europe. Allegedly this is like a golden staircase. Maybe the gold lights were overshadowed by the cloud the day we were there. Despite the inclement weather, the crowd never dissipated and there was a constant stream up the escalator and through the foyer and out around the observation deck. Again the view would have been so much more impressive had the sun deigned to shine.

It's a long way to the top.

Regardless, we walked the viewing deck and took photos from all major compass points before descending to reality. We walked the few minutes back home to wait for the walking tour to commence. It was a 10 minute walk in the other direction.

A city of church spires.

We met Kendra, the tourism officer and walked down to where the tour was to commence. The guide was clearly not thrilled that he would have two people on the tour who could not speak German and made it clear our time would be better spent elsewhere. So we took ourselves off to wander the streets, checking out the juxtaposition of the massive old port warehouses with the modern apartment precinct that is being created as a sustainable community. 

The tourist brochures describe the area as a work in progress, yet to develop its own soul or the  character of the old city. There is construction a plenty, all incorporating open spaces and facilities to sustain the development of the community. The Tourist Office in fact provides a video presentation on this veery topic to highlight the ethos and strategy that are steering the creation of this newest part of Hamburg; its future, as they term it.

Canals are the lifeblood of Hamburg.

Despite it being outside the peak season, or perhaps because of it, we have not been able to book a guided tour. Our experience of Germany thus far, compared to Scandinavia, is that there is far less accommodation for English speakers. We have never been travellers who just assume that every other country should automatically provide all communication, written and oral, in English. But we have found it much harder to get by here than in any of the Nordic countries we have visited on this trip.

In preparation for our Easter Monday excursion to the old town, Aldstadt, we went back to the Tourist Centre to procure a map of the broader city to plan what sights we would seek out, supported by a walking tour app we had downloaded. On the way, we also located an ATM to obtain some Euros as, curiously, Germany for some reason loves cash over cards. Again a stark contrast to Scandinavia. More often than not, we have been able to use a credit card here but we have been told to check and not assume businesses have card readers.

Street art "walls can dance".

The area is clearly a work-in-progress. There are road closures, building sites, a Westfield under construction, but it still has a community feel. There is street art where you would least expect it and bridges criss cross the canal like a bizarre game of cat's cradle. 

The tide is out.

Rainfall became heavier as the day wore on and eventually drove us inside to the warmth of the apartment to plan our next day's attack. Originally Easter Monday was supposed to be dry, but the forecast has changed again, it's like Forrest Gump's box of chocolates, "You never know what you're going to get." I'll know what the weather is when I look out of the window tomorrow morning.

Oh well, our new motto will apply regardless: There is no bad weather, just bad clothing. We will dress accordingly, whatever the view from the window.

What is Life is a rather esoteric title, the reason dear reader is that nothing came instantly to mind. When the universe gives you nothing return to what you love. In this case it's George Harrison (the splitter) post Beatles with a great song from 1970. Enjoy. I do everytime I hear it.

Until next time.

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.