Saturday, August 29, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Saturday started with waking up at 10:34 am. I had to show up for brunch by 11am. Was it worth getting out of bed? Do I fight off the allures of cotton sheets to go out for brunch?
How can you say no to brunch for under 5 euro? I love a good deal, almost as much as I love sleep. It was time to get up. I sprung out of my day bed and threw the sheets across the room. Justin, awoken by the deafening ensemble of ricketing from the day bed made of aged drift wood and fastened by flimsy screws, looked at me with shock and daze.
"Am I dreaming?" Justin's eyes were coated in a pinkish glaze from falling asleep ony a few hours earlier. "Are you seriously awake right now and I'm not?" Before I could answer, his eyes failed to fight off his heavy lids. He pulled the sheets over himself and returned to a deep slumber.
I had to make brunch. I got up and stayed up. Cold shower, grab the keys, sprint down the steep stair case.
Wow, I haven't included any pictures of the apartment have I? I will post them soon.
Back to the story. I rented a bike and furiously pedaled across the park and into the Reperbahn. Park the bike, continue on foot. Past the random German patrons passed out on the cobblestone streets after partying too hard. Keep moving. Past the hookers calling it a night and heading home. Onward to brunch.
Do I know exactly where it is? No. Have I gotten lost for hours before when operating on the same situation? Yes.
Am I screwed? Probably.
Do I have enough time to finish the story right now? Unfortunately I don't.
I love you.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Brian, Joe, and I got the chance to experience Hamburg as it was hundreds of years ago. Before America was founded. Before eighty percent of the city burned down. Before eighty percent was destroyed by bombings.
These spots are impossible to find without the help of a local. They are few in number and scattered about the city. A hole in the wall of modern buildings or an archaic alley often leads to these aged relics of Hamburg's history.
How did we find all the historic hot spots? We had Detmar.
[This is where a picture of Demtar is supposed to happen, but Blogger decided against it. Strike 2 Blogger. Strike 2.]
First off, rewind to my second day in Germany where I met Brian the account planner from Florida and we went apartment shopping. At the end of the day, Brian and I went out for my first beer at a local pub. In this pub we met Detmar, a retired Hamburg local. He speaks perfect English with a hint of a British accent.
Detmar overheard us talking about adapting to German culture and asked us to define what American culture consisted of. We didn't have much of an answer, but knew we'd made our first local friend.
I dont' know any more of Detmar's story except he has a few brothers. I would have asked more about his past but he's always too busy teaching us about the history of Hamburg along with multiple random yet fascinating facts.
Detmar gave us his number and told us to call him up for a real Hamburg experience. Stories like this either end in great memories or brutal murders, so we rolled the dice and went for the tour last weekend.
I can't recall most of the information because Detmar laid it on thick, but the sites were interesting so at least you can enjoy the pictures. Go for it. Meanwhile, I'll spit out what I remember and how it made me feel.
Why not break this up into a few posts with lots of pictures?
OK. I'll do it.