Don't Fear the Reeper

Fear not, today's post will be an almagation of yesterday's and today's news. Funny Story. Really. I'd be tempted just to let the photos below speak of how much fun was had yesterday. But then you wouldn't understand the hustle and bustle of the Flea market. The numerous people it contained and the sweltering heat. And only at 11 am.

The photo of the botanical gardens can't convey the pure and utter refreshment of a Radler in the midday heat, with the fountain going all the while. And the fact New Zealand and Australian plants are housed in a "Tropical Greenhouse" that was three times as hot as outside (28 degrees for the record, but it felt like more).

Although the photos of the Michel posses some of the amazement a church of that size and with that view holds, it can't express the twenty flights of stairs and 434 steep steps to reach the spire. Nor can it convey the heat we felt inside this marvel of a wooden, brick and mortar sturcture.

The panaromic views need no words though.

The photo of the beach club, Strand Pauli, contains some of the party atmosphere. But it can't detail the absolute fun and thrill in drinking fresh Capirainas in a light rain. Nor the good times to be had by having more in the blistering sun while lying on a mattress tossed in the sand.

This is where the funny story enters. After deciding it would be wise to head home then hit the Reeperbahn, I stumble home to find that I've lost my keys. Normally this isn't such a shock horror thing, as I tend not to lock the house or have easy access to a key. Germans, however, have a much finer idea of security. And my lack of skill in that department lead me to sitting on my front steps just wondering what the hell to do. Luckily sense kicked in and I got hold of Jana, my flatmate currently in Greece, and organised a key for Sunday. That left me Saturday night without a change of cothes and a place to sleep. Kat filled this gap nicely, offering me her couch.

Before we hit the hay though, we did hit the Reeperbahn. Man that place is crazy at night. I forgot my camera, so I'll be stealing Kat's photos of all the neon lights and mass amounts of people. But man it was crazy, and still going strong when we decided to call it a night at 2 am. I can honestly say I've never seen so many guys and girls go through so many traumatic things for their stag do's and hen nights. The Reeperbahn was full of such merry folk dressed in wedding dresses, weird costumes, smurf outfits, Life guards, and more. Germans have a sense for humiliation in these matters. Let's say that I'm not planning on getting engaged nor married in Germany.

The only scary thing with the Reeperbahn, is the drunkards who stumble through it. And frankly, I was only scared because I was worried that they'd try something on with Kat. It looks to be a pretty safe place. The mass amounts of Adult Shops isn't that daunting either. Everyone treats them with a sense of familiarity, and there's more of a toursit attraction ether to them than a whiff of restricted erotic materials.

So that's one step towards good times at night in Hamburg. The next step is hitting the dance clubs. Expect stories about that next week, round this time. Before I get bombarded with emails: I don't know where the street open only to men is. I've been told that you can't find it merely by stumbling around, as that's part of the design.

Today has seen me sort out some of my woes. Although I worried that upon losing the keys I might have to replace the locks (as told to me by Jana at first), it now looks as though I can just cut the keys. So all looks pretty promising. I'd like to think it's a karma thing, having Jana tell me the good news just after I had stopped to help some very lost looking tourists. Even better was that I've been trying to talk to everyone more in German, and so far I'm able to get my point across quite convincingly. It's been said that my understanding and pronounciation of German is amazaing for only having learnt it for three weeks. I do not claim to be a modest person.

So now that I've gotten back into my place, washing, cleaning, tidying up, and studying is in order. Then Kat, her flatmate, her flatmate's brother, and maybe more of us will hit the beach club again. It will be good.

Briefly, it looks as though I might be taking off to either Stockholm, Krakow, or Copenhagen next week. Flights start at €0.99 so me thinks I should take this time to have some fun. Bear in mind that taxes will make these flights something like €40 return, but come on. I have to make you all jealous somehow.