The One Woman Wolf Pack Goes North

[July 17] Since it sometimes takes money to get lost, I figured out a way to save: use the Eurail pass to ride a train to Hamburg from 1 a.m. to 6:30 and just sleep in a chair. Though, don’t assume that because the train runs at an ungodly hour that there won’t be a ton of people on it. I spent the 20 minutes between Bonn and Köln standing, then snuck into a first class car and fell asleep. When I woke up to the sun rising, the pass in my lap had been stamped and no one had kicked me out. Whoop!

I spent the morning wandering Hamburg, munching on a breakfast of sesame pretzels and chocolate cake that were given to me (with a great deal of fussing) by my wonderful host family seven hours earlier. When I finally found the tour boat that would take me sightseeing around the harbor, they handed me a poorly laminated packet of English blurbs about the Elbe and I learned to make sure that the tour isn’t only in German before I spend twenty euros on it. Still, I enjoyed those two hours of looking at anonymous riverside buildings and occasionally falling asleep to a presumably eloquent German tour guide.

A little frustrated by the situation, I invested in a little book for a self-guided tour and walked around with a map and an objective, for once. As Hamburg is famous as a port city, every inch of it seemed to be adorned in sailing memorabilia. Every other street is made of water, every restaurant sells fish as a main dish, and sometimes I thought I could smell salt on the freshwater river. But something genuine was missing in my short stay. The tourists’ quarter stretched on forever, or at least I never escaped it. The quirk in the theme was almost too contrived.

For lunch, I had a hamburger. I know I should have had a fish or something Portuguese, but like the ignorant tourist I am, I wanted to eat a hamburger in Hamburg. Around 7 pm I decided to go back to the hostel and take a nap until 10 so that I could go back and see the city at night—I heard it would be particularly beautiful then—but then I slept for twelve hours straight. I spent the morning wandering the Fish Market, where the merchant-folk yell at you to sell their wares and a band played to a giant restaurant full of people eating fish and beer for breakfast.

I took a train to Bremen, ate and walked around the altstadt with no real purpose. At the end of that Sunday I was just tired, so I took the early train home and took the evening easy. I probably could have stayed longer, but I’m learning that sometimes it’s better to just sit around and do nothing for a few hours.