Dutchland to Deutschland

For those of you who have been following consistently, A. thank you, but B. I apologize for not having been posting equally as consistently.  The reason being, I have been in Germany since Sunday night – Hamburg to be exact – it was my first time planning and traveling internationally on my own.

Scenario:

I really wanted to see two musical performances while I was abroad: one from any artist I like who might be touring Europe at the moment, one from some local performance.  I accomplished the latter by stumbling upon Café Alto outside Leidseplein, which provides a nightly venue for local jazz talents.  Fortunately for me, I found my solution to the former back around October when I saw a Facebook ad for Ben Folds in England.  As it turned out, he was on an entire European tour, including Amsterdam.  However, I didn’t want to put off traveling to hang around Amsterdam to see a performance I’ve attended three times prior in Boston.  Luckily, he was in Hamburg, as is a fellow IF-er, so I had lodging and a concert buddy.  My European travel was ready to begin.

The concert was a Monday night; because when I think “night out,” I think “Monday” (I miss wing night…or wings in general really).  The challenge here became finding a reasonably-priced means of transit that would also get me to Hamburg before the show.  When I say reasonably-priced, I don’t mean the 80 euro flight that became 240 after taxes and fees with a 10 hour layover in Prague (Dan and Ben, I love you, but not for 3x my flight cost). The best answer was a train 7(19:00) from Amsterdam that would reach Hamburg at midnight (0:17).

Next challenge: the public transit in Hamburg shuts down at….TWELVE THIRTY, JUST LIKE EVERYWHERE ELSE.  So, with that in mind, I had a very tiny margin for error.  I would have to get to baseball practice on Sunday afternoon, have practice, have interviews, get home, pack, and make it back to Centraal Station (which translates to Central Station) in time for my train. Done.

Next: I have to change trains in “Hilversum.” If one train leaves Centraal Station at 7 headed towards Hilversum, which is 17 minutes away, and another train leaves Hilversum at 7:21, how much time do you have to change trains?  So much for my margin of error.

So I get to Centraal early enough to ask a station attendant where my first train picks up since my ticket didn’t list a train from Amsterdam to Hilversum.  She was kind enough to print off a list of all the platform numbers for my entire trip asking if I wanted to take “the next train to Hilversum” which was at 6:56 (I’ve been rounding).  I grabbed a sandwich and went to find my platform, where, at 6:26, a train to Amersfoort via Hilversum approached.  I thought perhaps I had misread the ticket, but no, it was 6:26 and my train was for 6:56 and why would the station attendant tell me the next train was a half hour after this train, when the next train was clearly THIS train? So I got on.

We went along for a while, me being constantly aware and rather nervous that I had gotten on the wrong train, but comfortable because these trains are not the MBTA and comfort is possible.  Then I noticed the train pass through “Diemen” (German for "the men") and immediately started to freak out.

What if this wasn’t the right train?

Hilversum was a junction on the map, what if “via” just meant passes right through Hilversum?

Why didn’t I just chance the four minute platform switch?

We stopped in Hilversum, my next train would be arriving on the same platform in 27 minutes.

When I did get on my connecting train, I noticed that the seats were numbered.  Unable to translate my ticket, I asked the ONE person in my car if there was reserved seating.  He looked around and said “I really don’t think it matters.”

Still nervous about where my next train change would be (Osnabruek), I settled into a seat and played around with my ipod for a bit.  As I did, the conductor came over the intercom, “dutch dutch dutch dutch Osnabruek dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch something about coffee (in dutch) dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch more dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch dutch”

Then,

“good evening, thank you for riding with us, there is coffee in the dining car, the next station is Amersfoort.”

No.

Liar. That is not what you told everyone else. I heard you say my station, what don’t you want me to know?

Nevertheless, the second change went off without incident.  I had a half hour until my next train, so that switch was a bit more relaxed.  Speaking of relaxed: The seats on the final train were amazing. Everything about the final train was amazing.  I stepped into a comfortably-lit car where passengers dozed in seats with built-in pillows.  When I took my seat, I reclined it to read and almost fell asleep; it curved in all the right places.  Such comfort reminded me of other incidents of comfort: the hammock-swing-chair at the antique shop in Vermont, reading on the love seat on the porch in New Hampshire, napping on the couch in my apartment…

I could have died there happy.  I would like to think that if Mitch Albom is right, and Heaven is a scene of extreme comfort, that this will be my Heaven, sitting in that seat on that train with my family, loved ones, and impactful people from my life (both known and unkown) seated in the coach around me as scenes from my life pass by outside the window; my chair appropriately faced towards the back of the train.

Mussolini must still be alive and living in Germany, because these trains could not have been more accurately timed.  We made Hamburg at exactly 0:17 with plenty of time to catch a bus.  The next day we returned to the station to walk around Hamburg, going to a German beer garden for lunch.  I know why Uter is fat.

Fun fact: apparently in the German airings of The Simpsons, Uter is Austrian.

We then headed over to the Ben Folds show at Dock’s Club on the Reeperbahn (which houses Hamburg’s red light district), around the corner from The Indra and Kaiserkeller where The Beatles started their gigs. Gives a new meaning to “Norwegian Wood” (stole, that from an email with my parents…) We ended up watching a fantastic show from the front row [ we had a good view at the Ben Folds show too ;-) ].

Jokes aside, let’s talk about prostitutes.  The infamous red light district in Amsterdam is rather underwhelming.  The women are clothed (which I didn’t realize was the case) albeit in lingerie, etc, and rather unattractive for the most part.  It isn’t uncomfortable so much as just unappealing.  It isn’t limited to the RLD either, you could pass these windows just about anywhere around the Center Ring of the city.  But that’s just it, they are in windows.  They tap at them to get your attention, but otherwise it’s harmless.  Not so in Hamburg.  They are RIGHT. THERE. On the street, no windows.  They can come up to you and have a conversation and walk you to the train station.  I was so much more uncomfortable there than I’ve ever been walking through Amsterdam and the unusual part about that was that they WERE clothed – again, in electric pink jumpsuits so you still know what’s up – but it was below freezing, so they were WELL clothed and still it was extremely uncomfortable.

Moving on to something I DO like.  The next day we went to Minatur Wunderland, a warehouse full of model trains and other transportation and scenery.  I had met a man from Frankfurt at a couchsurfing event a week earlier, when I told him I was going to Hamburg, he asked “if I liked small trains” at first I thought I should stop drinking immediately, then realized what he was really asking.

Hell yes I like small trains. 

I used to have a LEGO book that I read from cover to cover every day.  I grew up playing BRIO with my dad most nights.  I like trains of any size.

The setup was amazing. The first room we walked into was pitch black creating a night landscape for the Switzerland scene housed in the room.  Slowly, however, the dark lights faded into dawn and then daylight and then entire exhibit changed as the exhibit-city woke up and began buzzing in full force.  By the end of this room I was more than satified for my price of admission, but upstairs there were a good six or seven more room-sized models. Each room was a different country influence starting with switzerland, then germany, america, norway, et al. When I say that they have model transport of every kind, I mean everything from trains to floating scale cruise ships, even an airport with planes taking off and landing then taxi-ing to a gate, all programmed.  Enjoyable as our travel "around the world in 80 minutes" was, one shocking moment came when a scale model of the palace of Versailles caught on fire and started smoking! ...at which point, small emergency vehicles zipped through their exhibit up to the palace to handle the situation.  They even made sure to signal with their directionals.

On the final day we went to the Beatles museum that they have on the Reeperbahn, also a bit underwhelming.  Though some parts were really interesting - the exhibits ABOUT Hamburg were cool - a lot of areas were a bit forced and cliché, such as the last room which was designed like a yellow submarine, just for the sake of making the reference.  The exhibit culminated in a gift shop that could have fit in a scene at Minatur Wunderland.

Italy next.