26 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.
07/26 Hamburg, Germany
We rolled early into Hamburg. Since we had reduced our load to just the essentials, we could now fit all of our belongings into a single locker. We wandered about Hamburg searching for a suitable place to put down some breakfast and a few early morning beers. That day had been earmarked as a day to relax, to kick back and enjoy the city’s parks and its many bridges. The sun wasn’t up yet, so we took advantage of an empty cathedral. We sat inside, watched early sacraments, studied the building’s architecture and stained glass windows. We trekked around the lake until I located a beautiful location to stretch out, relax and add some entries into this journal. Awhile back it became evident that I was going to run out of journal space if I didn’t start writing smaller, the smaller. I had no desire to carry around multiple journals or risk sending one home through the post. So when I was wandering about Oslo I procured a new book. Now I got into the habit of taking notes and then arranging them prior to penning them into my journal, this way I am able to discard jibberish and avoid as many mistakes as possible.
The leaves danced along with the wind and ended their short journey at the lake’s shoreline. Occasionally a contrasting white swan swam gracefully by while behind us another jogger would be heard scampering by. It was a perfect setting to catch up on my journal and relax. Somewhere during that daydream, I fell asleep and woke up with just a breath of the thoughts that lingered from my dream. I hate that feeling. It was like I just realized something important or experienced something earth shattering, yet I don’t remember anything but unconnected pieces. Trying to assemble them makes it all the more confusing.
We spent the night wandering up and down the red light district. Eyes solicited our attention, barkers solicited our money and Jim ate ice cream cone after ice cream cone. I suppose that was his surrogate cold shower. After walking for a few hours, I was dead set on finding myself a cold beer and selected a local bar on the outskirts of the district. I wanted my money to just go toward the beer not the wall paper. My first impression as I entered through the door was that it was a bit dark for my comfort. As my eyes began to adjust to the change, I noticed women lining the walls. Before I actually gained my focused, the face of an angel was looking up at me. She was speaking in German and I said something in English in response to her question. She immediately latched on to my English and a beautiful smile bloomed. I glanced around and noticed that there was no bar tender. Another young lady had already corralled Jim. I thought that the angel assumed I was not done shopping and started listing all the things she was willing to do for me. I looked into her beautiful eyes. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen. Somewhere out there she was still somebody’s daughter, who most likely didn’t know what she’d gotten herself into. I reached out, gave her a hug and whispered into her ear, “I won’t sleep with anybody who would sleep with anybody” and turned and walked out the door. Jim followed reluctantly. We sat across the street on the curb. “Did you see and her hand was on my…?” Jim kept repeating as if my decision to leave undermined his opportunity. A second of temptation was followed by an hour of reflection.
I see the daughter of pain, she lies, darkness embodies, the walls of her skies
always changing but never, never dies, she lies
After the rain has come and gone, I still hear her singing, that same old song
playing it on and on, she’s gone
A police car pulled up, rolled down its window and asked why we were sitting on the curb. I explained the view was good from here and how it provided an interesting window into the German sub-culture. They both smiled. We continued wandering through the district and eventually ended the day’s journey back at the train station where we had started. We secured a corner and tried to get a little shuteye, but the marble floor was a bit too cold for my liking. On the train, we slept our way into Amsterdam, picked up an early breakfast, then continued through Brussels and sought out a hostel in Brugge.
