While in Munich for business this late January, I planned to conclude another German adventure with a pleasure trip to Hamburg. For my first time there, I would join my friend Laetitia and support her and her young business, mamis travelguide, at one of Germany’s largest travel fairs, Reisen Hamburg on Saturday. Travel to a travel fair where I not only get to help a friend out, but also check out all things travel 2019. Add on three extra days to visit this intriguing city everyone tell me I will love. Winning.
Munich and Hamburg are separated by some 800km, or 500 miles: that’s about the distance between Washington, DC and Cincinnati, OH or San Diego, CA to San Francisco, CA. Except separating these 2 cities, the 3rd and 2nd largest German metropoles (Berlin is the largest, obvi), is, well, the entire country. Approximately 80 million people live in Germany; in contrast, 40 million people live in California. And in Montana, a state of comparable size to that of Germany: 1 million. Context.
Most people who undertake this journey fly. Rather, I opted to take the train. While costs were comparable, experience was the deciding factor: the journey to Munich’s Hauptbahnhof is familiar, shorter and easier than to its Flughafen; not having to check my bag and go through security is a luxurious plus; my ICE first class seat is spacious and borderline decadent and the empty seat next to me a delight; the central train station in Hamburg is closer to my destination than its airport; and when I add up the travel time, it ends up being just a little longer to ride than fly. I just love trains.
It’s not just trains though. It’s the feeling. In Munich, I enjoy walking through the central station, even on a random Tuesday evening while simply switching from one U-Bahn line to another. I make up stories about the people I observe walking with their overstuffed backpacks or fancy silver Rimowa roller boards. Even when I can’t understand it, there is always a pleasant buzz in the air; an organized chaos in constant motion. You can easily go so many places from there: Zürich at one track, Salzburg at another, and of course Prague… The place brings back so many memories, and also a bit of nostalgia about my heritage: my grand-papa Pierre was a Canadian National train operator for his entire career. I can’t see a train track or a locomotive without thinking of him.
Real talk though, I wanted to be able to say: I’ve seen Germany, from one end to the other. Simple.
On this sunny afternoon, from my window seat, I spent my 5 and a half hour ride looking out, across the country. Here is some of what I observed.
- In Bavaria, rolling hills, still covered in this week’s snow, reminiscent of a winter wonderland.
- Fields, fully equipped for hop growing, awaiting spring for planting.
- A train load of (to my surprise) multicolored Audis. I chuckled when I thought that these beauties surely aren’t intended for local drivers, who typically prefer their luxury German engineering in black or shades of grey.
- Modern sources of energy like wind power turbines and solar panels, as far as the eye can see.
- Vineyards, in the distance, and colors, reminding me of Sonoma County.
- Every village’s skyline marked by at least one, often more, impressive church steeple.
- Typical Middle German house architecture style, their recognizable reddish-brown roofs with white walls and sharp pignons.
- Loads of box trucks on the country’s Autobahn, often running adjacent to the train tracks.
- Graffiti, mostly along the larger city’s walls against the train tracks. I’ve come to realize this art form is a worldwide outlet for visual storytelling, an alternative yet popular method of expression and have grown to appreciate it more and more.
- Factories on the outskirts of many towns, with smokestacks fuming, most likely indicating bustling industrial activities inside.
- Construction sites, so many I lost count, yet not surprising considering Germany’s strong economy.
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It was dark by the time ICE 788 reached its destination. The bustling of rush hour at the central train station, let alone its sheer size sobered me up quickly: this is NOT Munich. I enjoyed the scramble of finding my way to my accommodations in a new city and observed that I’m getting pretty bold in my quest for this feeling. More.
A mist moistened the air. At dinner, I got to speak French. “Ah, vous êtes du Canada!” Évidemment. Then, I enjoyed tasting some local vodka before laying my head down on a comfortable hotel bed full of plump pillow. Just like I like.
Hamburg, this morning, we meet. It’s a pleasure to be here with you. I might already be in love.
Say something, go ahead!