Why am I in Hamburg

01 October 2014 Travel time: with 08 July 2014 on 09 July 2014
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To realize oneself free in Hamburg, even for one day, is an utter joy. You don't need it anywhere, you don't owe it to anyone. And the amount of 100 euros in your pocket for “living this day” seems very weighty. I began to cultivate my joy before dark. At 8 o'clock in the morning, I did not feel bad at the central train station. station from where I was supposed to start this great day. Since 9-Uhr-Tageskarte was not sold yet, I decided not to assemble the puzzle, but to swing at the Hamburg Card, which helpful Germans sell directly from ticket machines. Having dealt with the operation, I already wanted to rush to the S-bahn, when 2 black guys asked for help. They had tickets reserved for a trip to Malmö , but they never managed to defeat the apparatus. No wonder I took my own master class on dealing with ticket tellers and their deaf-and-dumb automatic versions!

The fussy and suspicious guys did not even say thank you, but began to discuss something chaotically in a non-European language. But I didn't care for them at all. The northbound train departed in a matter of seconds.


Coming out at the place indicated by me yesterday, I stomped in the direction of my hotel. The morning was gaining momentum and warming up the air that had cooled during the night with ultrasolar rays. I was heading to the hotel despite all the assurances of the site about the beginning of registration at 14.00. “I’ll throw off my bag in any way, ” I amuse myself with the thought, censuring squinting at my two-wheeled luggage. The guy at the reception of the Hotel Richter allowed me to leave not only my bag, but also to fully occupy the apartment assigned to me and prepare for a long day away from home.

The hotel did not indulge in frills, but provided comfort, an economy version of comfort, as well as a bathroom for personal use.

And this is a fact worthy of payment, since wiping yourself at night with wet wipes or arguing with intractable Germans on their field that “You were not standing here” is not a pleasant procedure.

Having undressed to match the weather and equipped my backpack with everything I needed, I was already halfway to happiness. I did not brag about my excellent knowledge of the local infrastructure and bus numbers, so I chose the metro station as the nearest transport hub. It took 10-15 minutes to stomp. On the way, I admired the beauties, looked into the gloomy faces of the working class and planned the daily routine. Having made the usual forced march by the train to the chosen part of the city, I was advancing on Speicherstad. In my schedule of visits, there were objects that were mainly located here.

Having crossed the Elbe sleeve on the bridge, I purposefully walked deep into the area.

Mechanically turning my head 360 degrees, I easily found a good-natured man in uniform who helpfully opened the gate. On the gate was the inscription "Museum of the German Customs". Failed to pass.

The ticket cost 2 euros, and to visit the 2 floors of the complex, dedicated to the daily battle of customs with cargo flows and smuggling, they also offered a visit to one of the ships of the customs service. Interesting, entertaining and inexpensive.

In the entrance hall of the museum, I managed to get a newsletter about all the sights of Speicherstad, and the girl who gave it to me was not too lazy to draw all the very best places and routes there with a ballpoint pen. You can appreciate the full power of the museum collection on the speicherstadt-erleben website. de. Following in the fairway of this museum collection may take 2-3 days, which, unfortunately, I did not have.


Therefore, not particularly worried about the pangs of choice, I entered the next in the direction of the Hamburg Maritime Museum.

The decision was three times correct, since this museum is worth all the money that is requested for admission. Flashing with friendliness and Hamburg Card, I paid the remaining 10.8€ after the concessions by check and rushed into the abyss of sea adventures. Three hours flew by unnoticed, so to describe everything that I saw and what resonance it caused inside, it would take more than one page of text.

Despite the tightness of my schedule, I did not want to miss lunch. I consider the area between the Town Hall and the Church of St. Nicholas to be the most dining area of ​ ​ ​ ​ the city. It was there and this time that I nourished the body and tasted pleasure.

The afternoon was drowsy and the discussion of world politics, but I went to ventilate the lungs and soothe the retina with green shades. The path lay to the arteries of fresh water - the channels of the Alster.

Many people know and have seen the Alster Lake and its surroundings in the city center, but I think not many guess or invest in the study of its branches, canals and other full-flowing branches. The magic of water allows you to turn each coastal area into an oasis of peace and landscape well-being. Not superfluous, of course, here was the hand of a German man, but the natural charm glimmers in every linear meter of the river.

So I, referring to the time free from life's adversities and everyday duties, paced along the expanses of water. I managed to walk almost to the Stadtpark, where my next stop was planned. Waking up from the cycle of my own thoughts to the accompaniment of murmuring waters and the ever-changing state of the sky, I realized that I did not get to the session in the planetarium at 15.00 indicated by me in the daily routine! The failure of the entire operation? Bad planning? Negligent attitude to the schedule?


The idea was to make a daring march by train to the farthest Blankenese station and a victorious return from there by boat. This achieved maximum coverage of the area in the shortest possible time. Sitting comfortably in the S-bahn, I looked out the window and rested my soul and body on soft sofas. Closer to the end, a slight itch appeared in the cellars of consciousness, which peaked as we approached the Klein Flottbeck station. Some forces took me under both arms and threw me out of the train without warning. I don't know where I got off and where I needed to go. By analogy with "Gentlemen of Fortune" I caught a passing kid: "Boy, is Alibakan far away? “Far, 30 km from here. ” In my case, I was interested in Elba. From there, I will immediately combine the road to the center. After all, do not return back by train by the same method!

The road to the Elbe led through the wealthy estates of the local beau monde. According to reports, this is one of the most wealthy areas.

There are mostly villas, expensive cottages and expensive hotels in buildings that have been seen by Napoleon.

Owners of dogs are decorously walking along the streets or sports ladies are running, gracefully maneuvering among expensive cars. The area smelled of peace and prosperity.

Further descent to the Elbe ran through the Wesselhoeft park, which looked more like a conditionally limited area of ​ ​ the forest. Having escaped from the embrace of the forest thicket, I went to the Teufelsbrucke pontoon, which, in combination, was a river ferry station. The name of the place sounds like a curse and is such for good reason.

Where the Elbchausee highway now lies, in ancient times the Flottbeck branch of the Elbe crossed into a ford. Such a procedure constantly led to the loss of carts, which immediately aroused in the critical minds of the people thoughts about the devil, sacrifices and the re-election of people's deputies.

A gathering of elders decided to build a bridge and, in order to secure the devil's permission to carry out the work, give him the soul of the first living creature who steps on the bridge. According to tradition, it was supposed to be a priest, who, according to the staffing table, was supposed to consecrate the bridge for a long service and “so that it doesn’t fall too far. ” But during the ceremony, just before the priest stepped on the architectural project, a rabbit was released from the crowd, which crossed the bridge first. The confusion of the crowd and the comedy of the situation was later captured in the form of a small monument.

If you look, somewhere nearby (if not stolen again), there should be a wooden statue depicting a thoughtful devil holding a rabbit by the ears. What he thought about, I think, is not worth writing.

There is a good restaurant on the shore, which has a reputation for excellent reviews.


The restaurant and pontoon have undergone a major renovation since a Dutch container ship parked right in their place in 2002.

But in my case, everything went off without a hitch. The successful landing on the ferry went without a hitch.

Already on the ferry, I realized why I did not go to Blankenese. The fact is that Teufelsbrucke, where I landed, was the final station of ferry routes, and the distant station of Blankenese was an additional option and the ferry went there strictly on schedule and obviously until 18.00. So I don’t know who told me the right decision to dismount from the electric train here, but I am very grateful to him for the hint.

Riding the ferry at number 64, after 2 stops I jumped to number 62, which is listed in all guidebooks of the city, as a variant of the Elba tour. Along the way, we talked with a mature companion, who told us about the miraculous therapy of such tours on the psyche of the middle managers with a rattling psyche.

For a discussion of pressing issues, we sailed near the parking lot and the plant for the support of the international aircraft fleet of Airbus aircraft, a magnificent cargo port, over the new and old tunnels under the Elbe and discreetly moored at the floating bridges of Landungsbrucke.

It was evening time and a light drizzle watered the streets and pedestrians trampling on them. The sky changed clouds every minute, either showing azure blue, or wrapping the view image in a gray down jacket of rainy clouds. It was time to take care of the stomach. The best, although not the cheapest area for an evening leisurely meal, I still consider the Portuguese quarter, which is located halfway between the Landungsbrucke embankment and the park near St. Michael's Church. There are a lot of restaurants here, as well as visitors. The choice is huge, although it is quite narrow for a budget dinner option. There are Spanish, Portuguese and Italian restaurants to choose from.

Despite my fiery love for the Spaniards, I have absolutely nothing to dine with them. And to pay 24 euros for a fish or a plate of paella, a long-lost desire did not appear.


But in the Italian cafe L'Ancora, dinner was held with all honors and a much-needed phase of feeling full.

Well, then the road led straight to the Planten un Blomen park, where singing fountains were served at 22.00 in the summer hours. This is not the first time I have been looking forward to this show. But previous attempts have not been successful. Either I was unable to calculate the time, or to find the correct bicycle approach. A complete fiasco. It was time to act more decisively. Having reached the Sternschanze station by metro, I followed the pedestrians. The fountains function in a body of water that is located next to the Hamburg Messe center and is named on the Parksee maps. There are several approaches to it, all the envy from which side and on which metro line you will go.

Leaving the material seen today to be filtered by the ever-waking subconscious. There were enough impressions, and at the moment of immersion in the kingdom of Morpheus, the last thought flashed in my head that I had done everything in my life correctly ...

In the morning, having a couple of hours left before check-in, I went to my beloved Ohlsdorf on foot. Wishing the residents of Hamburg a good working day to the scurrying circle, I turned into the gate of the park, in which at that time there was not a soul. It was here, near my favorite reservoir, that I planned to carry out the correction of consciousness and the final phase of farewell to Hamburg. Having enjoyed the beauty and serenity, I again went to the human abyss of one of the most densely populated places in the city - Hamburg Airport. Having had breakfast on the go with a glass of coffee and a cold sandwich, according to local traditions, I was ready for the physical transfer from Hamburg to my homeland.

The way to Simferopol ran through Stockholm and St. Petersburg. But the short duration of transfers coolly stifled my attempts to see the northern capitals along the way, at least from afar. Well, I'll be back in Hamburg! Despite everything?

according to owntrip website. net. ua

Translated automatically from Russian. View original
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