It's freezing cold, It's raining.Everybody walks around looking cranky and grey and upset. Me incuded.
Everybody apart from these four guys, in their thongs and billabong boardies and their super deep tan. So easy to spot Aussies abroad! And if you somehow managed to miss all those tells, they also have the emu and roo coat of arms on their backpack. Epic!
Bye bye Hamburg. Berline - here I come.
So just in case you didn't know - Hamburg is where the Beatles started and quite adequately they were awarded their own Platz.
And I'm sure they wouldn't mind at all that it is at the gateway to hooker-street.
They even paid homage to the poor fifth Beatle who never made it.
One of the main things people come to Hamburg for (so i am told) is the red light distrct, that's supposedly lots of fun. The cool dude on the plane told me I must (MUST!) do it, so I did. Ummmm.... I'm sure it used to be all risque and stuff in the old days where it was frequented by sailors and other shady characters, but these days it's just bored pimps going through the motions of inviting you in and old bored pros standing at the doorways. The most interesting bit about it is the fact that the main strip is called Grosse Freiheit which translates to Great Freedom.
Here's an addition to the list of life's biggest mysteries... Say, for the sake of argument, that you do want to carry out a transaction with one such lady. Say you're a sailor or maybe a bit bored with the old missus... Why on earth would you go and do it at a major tourist attraction where a million pairs of eyes (many of which slanted, but some possibly your neighbours, your wife's parents or your kids teacher) and hundreds of cameras will see you walking in, walking out or both. Wouldn't you go somewhere more discreet? I know I would! (but then again, I'm no sailor). I guess there comes a point in some people's life where reputaion means absolutely positively zilch.
Eat your heart out, Nigella. You may be big on your island, but here on the continent Donna rules. Hilarious!
Last nights Din. Just like Una's but with a much nicer waitress (who's also the chef, I think, the barmaid, and most probably the owner).
The Schnitz though, while very nice, is not quite as good as Una's . And nowhere near as big.
Either that or I'm already homesick after 48 hours. Sigh.
Not too sure about that specific claim, may be just a bit exaggerated, but Hamburg is a pretty pretty city. With lakes and sea front and canals and what have you. They even built a beach by hauling tons of sand over.
Shame the weather seems to suck most of the time with this neither-here-nor-there drizzle.
Hamburg Germany. August 8, 2010.
Ok. In 500 words or less – here's how yours-truly made it from Sydney to where he is now..
Start – 7am. Sydney. Karl generous enough to take me to the airport (not sure he realised it was an early morning flight on a Sunday when he made that commitment). As a thank-you gesture, and more importantly a means to deal with a nasty hangover (who's idea was it to go out the night before?) started the day with a couple of Bloody Marys. Not going to embellish the sad facts – these must have been two of the worst Bloody Marys ever to be made. A bit of a catch 22- how good these babies are for your hangover, and yet how hard they are to make when you actually are hungover and need them most. Time to hire a butler I say.
Quick drive to the airport, check-in, immigration, security, all standard. Then brekkie up at the Qantas Lounge. God must have had me in mind when she came up with Eggs Benedict. Asking for Champagne to go with it was met with a slightly raised brow, but who has time for understated gestures... The bubbles showed up soon after and more than compensated for the Bloody Mary debacle.
Flight to Johannesburg very uneventful. Nobody next to me. Actually had most of the cabin to myself. Timely departure, timely arrival, Pretty nice food and plenty of movies to pass the time with, including worst movie ever (Sex & The City 2, if you had to ask). And note to SJ Parker - may be time to consider a new character. Also - no karaoke.
Arrive Johannesburg on time, to find out the most sparkling clean airport I have ever seen. Obviously, it has a lot to do with Football World Cup and all, but still – whoever polished and buffed those floors is a genius!
In hindsight, allowing four hours between flights at JNB was an OK idea, given the number of queues involved and just how slowly they move. The person making boarding announcements either has a nasty sense of humour or is a complete and utter tool - managed to get flight number, time and gate number wrong in every single announcement. After a while it became borderline amusing just watching the crowds running around in despair.
BA flight from JNB to London – nothing huge to report. Once again – very timely departure. Once again had most of the cabin to myself. Only me and a couple with their two babies (either heavily drudged or very very well behaved kids. looking at the parents I suspected the former). A couple of G&Ts followed by about 8 hours straight of undisturbed sleep and a couple of movies. Fun Fun Fun. And while on the subject of movies (and drugs) – whoever supplied the drugs on the set of Funny Face should have received his own Academy Award. Think Pink?? What the??? If I find the video on YouTube I promise to share.
Talking awards... A special one goes to the girl who invited me to the Haethrow Spa for a free massage! What a legend you are!
Brekkie at Haethrow, redefining fatty food – from burnt sausages to fried potatoes and black pudding. Now... Black Pudding. Am I the only one confused here? How can something that looks so awful, is so bad for you and (more importantly) made of congealed blood (yes. blood) be so addictively delicious?
Attaching pics of Australian Vs English brekkies. Say what you will – Aussies win in the good-looks dept.
Flight London to Hamburg. Departs on time, arrives on time, had nobody sitting next to me (I like this patterm!).
There you go. Welcome to hamburg.
