Europe 2013: Ah, Hamburg

August 26, 2013

If you notice that some of the next few updates are in a weird kind of grammar, that's probably a good thing: it means I'm thinking in German again.

It's so nice to be back in Hamburg again. I was only here a few years ago for Cori's wedding, but that's two out of two post-exchange visits that have made me happy to be here. I'll take 100%. I was an exchange student here in 1991-1992, and in extreme brief, it was a wonderful year with some unpleasant bits. I can remember the stuff that bothered me (mostly to do with host families, and moderate to extreme mis-matches), but for the most part, that year is a glowingly happy one in my memory.

It was during that year that I met Lissen, at the Gymnasium (high school) we both attended. We reconnected on Facebook a few years ago, and she paid me a visit in Seattle a couple years ago. This is my return visit to Hamburg, although my version has me here with her for far less time, due to the nature of the trip. Unfortunately, I got schedules mixed up in initial planning, and managed to arrive after she'd started work again, as a teacher, so we only get afternoons and evenings. Then, later in the week, I'll stay with one of my former host families, with Guenther and Monika in Glinde, which is a little suburb of Hamburg.

My first order of business while here (aside from getting myself established in Lissen's small but quite chic apartment just northeast of the city center) was to sort out the motorcycle chain. It was making noises which I would rate anywhere from disturbing to ominous-organ-music-soundtrack ominous. Imagine, if you will, the sound of a slow, deliberate rock tumbler containing only coarse chunks of granite, increasing in pace with the speed of the bike. I could feel it pinching and grabbing as it came to tight or loose spots. Very disturbing.

I've experienced a similar thing on bikes at home, when the chain is well and truly toast (or "durch" as the mechanic called it this morning), although never so large and scary sounding. Fortunately, my first thought, of a dead output shaft bearing (which would be a large, time-consuming and very expensive repair), appears not to be the case, but they way he said "durch" (which literally means "through" as in "to go through," and may be a sort of inverse re-importation of the English meaning into German)... Well, that chain is Done. I didn't know what to think of Martin's mechanic in Ireland to start with, and now I definitely have my doubts: he proclaimed the chain to be in full health. I guarantee I didn't destroy the chain in a mere 3000 km.

In any case, the ZTS Suzuki shop on Suederstrasse were easy to deal with, and are ordering the parts with overnight shipping (which I'm sure is contributing to the EUR325 price, a bit on the high side of what I was expecting, but not unreasonably so). I bring the bike in tomorrow, and they'll get it done by the end of the day. Pretty much the perfect outcome as far as I'm concerned.

Renee, my camping companion in Juliusplate, said that he thought it was good I was getting the repair done in Germany. "The Dutch," he said, "along with the Italians, when they find out that you're a foreigner, charge you double the normal price. It hurts me to say, as a Dutchman, but it's true. It's not that Dutch in general are dishonest, just the dealers. The Germans are very nice, and very honest." I wouldn't have been willing to wager as to anyone's honesty, but I knew that if I had the repair done in Germany, I wouldn't have to worry about being bilked or overcharged, beyond what dealerships already overcharge everyone for.

It's very interesting to look at Lissen's apartment, and think about what it would be like to move to such a place. I would have to give up a lot of my equipment-intensive hobbies, such as machining and darkroom work, most likely. Most of the "I'll use it some day" stuff would have to go, and I'd have to pare down to the bare essentials. But there's something very appealing about such a paring back of Stuff. Even on this trip, packing as lightly as I have, there are a couple of kilos of stuff I've brought that I'll probably never touch, which doesn't include the "in case of absolute emergency" stuff like tools and first aid gear that I wouldn't consider travelling without.

On the subject of gear, I have some praise to dole out. On my friend Katherine's suggestion, I bought a PackTowl, which is a polyester fabric towel that dries out in a flash, and packs down very small. It's very weird feeling to dry off with, since it feels pretty plasticky compared to a terrycloth towel, but I'm able to dry it overnight by hanging it between the tent and the rain fly (a space perhaps three inches thick, with comparatively little ventilation).

Similar praise goes to the Big Agnes sleeping mat. It's got a Q something in the name, I forget it exactly. It's been great, and at 3.5 inches thick, I have never worried about feeling the ground. My main praise is for the sleeping-on-air comfort, but it's also rated R4.5 insulation, which is nothing to sneeze at either. It packs down to an admirably small size, and was well worth the investment.

For all that I've been complaining about the phone service, the phone itself (this is the Samsung B2100, which is dunkable to 3m for 30 minutes and will withstand a surprising amount of abuse) has worked very well. I mean, it's a dumbphone, so there's not much to it compared to a smartphone. The battery lasts forever (I've been going a week or more between charges, and that's me cautiously charging when at three of five bars), it's fairly straightforward to operate, and it does what it's supposed to do. This includes sounding an alarm every morning at 7:30, which I've been using more as an indication of what time it is than an actual method of waking up. The sun's doing a fine job of that.

So, we'll see what the rest of the day will bring. I think now it's time to go out and find a city map, and sort out how I'm going to get myself around after dropping off the bike tomorrow.

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For our afternoon, Lissen and I rented bicycles from the city bike-share program, and rode out to the Aussen Alster, a lake in the center of the city, situated very similarly to Lake Union in Seattle. The bike-share program has a fairly amazing (and problematical) offer: the first 30 minutes is free. That sounds fantastic, but when you realize that almost everyone uses the bikes for 30 minutes or less, you can also figure out that it's a money-losing proposition. Even if you go over the 30 minutes, it's only 8 cents per minute, or EUR4.80 an hour. Lissen has some kind of better membership, and it only costs her 6 cents per minute. We both agreed that it would be a good deal even if the first 30 minutes weren't free.

We biked out to the Aussen Alster, and walked along the walking, riding and running path, which is very similar in its way to Greenlake in Seattle, with the same mix of people. As Lissen said to me, it appears from walking around the lake that the entirity of Hamburg is composed of sporty runner types, but of course that's a bit of a selection bias. The same mistake could be made around Greenlake.

It was a lovely spot for photography, though, and I was clicking away. One of the things I spotted (and which eventually hit me over the head with a hammer, once I knew was I was looking for) was a huge number of padlocks, many of them red, locked to the bridge railings. Lissen explained that it's a practice from Italy, and people will engrave their names and a date on the lock, and lock it to the bridge to guarantee that their love will be similarly secure. I share her preference against the practice (I find it a bit precious), but it does make for some very interesting and pretty photos. Possibly a bit stock-photo-ish, but still worth taking.

Rather than taking bikes to return, we walked, and were able to examine the houseboats along the canal in greater leisure.

The bikes are pretty cool. They're very heavy, with massively built frames to withstand abuse, and drum brakes, and internally geared hubs, all of which adds up to a foolproof, and nearly bulletproof bicycle. They would be too heavy for a hilly place like Seattle, but for the absolutely flat Hamburg, they're a fine choice.

Before we went out for our Alster visit, Lissen prepared a lovely and delicious lunch of spaghetti and a starter of tomato slices with mozarella, basil, balsamic vinegar and olive oil. Very tasty. We had also walked out to the supermarket and bought supplies for the next day or two.

I don't know if I've mentioned it, but I'm basically canvassing everywhere I go for new varieties of chocolate. In the British Isles, Cadbury is the winner, generally speaking, with the Double Decker (nougat and puffed rice in layers, with chocolate outside), the Toffee Crisp (puffed rice and a caramel-ish mixture inside, chocolate outside), and the Starbar (imagine a Butterfinger where the insides are more like a paste than flakes, and more like peanutbutter) were the winners. I also already knew I was in love with the Tunnocks Caramel Wafer bar, as I believe I've already mentioned. In Holland, I picked up some Milka varieties that were pretty good, but I wasn't really there long enough to develop a preference. In Germany, the undisputed champion, already familiar to me, is Yogurette, with a sort of yogurt and strawberry-tasting crystals surrounded by chocolate. I've been known to order these by the half-case. Lissen turned me on to the Olympia flavor of Ritter Sport, which I've never seen in the US, and is quite good, a nice mixture of yogurt and some kind of very light nut surrounded by chocolate. The problem with the Ritter Sport bars, of course, is that they're big, and once I've opened one I can't really stop myself from eating the whole thing in one go. I'm looking forward to see what Austria, Switzerland and then France again have in store for me. So much chocolate, so little time.

This time with Lissen is nice, in that we're not stressing about doing too much. It's great to have something planned every hour of the day, but it's also nice to have time to just sit around and read. It is a vacation, after all. I also benefit from the fact that I already know Hamburg, and have spent a certain amount of time here. The other situation is of course Wales, where absolutely everything was new and fascinating, and I loved every minute of it (ok, maybe I didn't love being in the grant funding meeting, but I was still having a good time).

As I said above, the plan for the morning is to drop off the bike with the shop so they can replace the chain, then get myself onto a bus. From there (hopefully I can leave my riding gear with the shop, so I don't have to schlep it around all day), I buy a Tageskarte for the transit system, and get myself downtown to wander around a bit. I may visit the Rickmer Rickmers again, which is a tall ship that lives in the Hamburg harbor, and which we saw in 2010. I've been steeped in naval adventure stories lately, so it's really cool to see a real ship and put it in perspective. Then in the evening, we meet with Lissen's friend Evi, who I remember from 1992, but who doesn't remember me.

Finally, I must say that it's really nice to spend a few days having regular internet access again. I expect to have another drought once I leave Hamburg, so I'm stocking up on my staring-slackjawed-at-Facebook time.

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Created by Ian Johnston. Questions? Please mail me at reaper at obairlann dot net.