Category Archives: Hamburg

Summary of Week 3: April 10th – April 16th

Sometimes, being the responsible one who meticulously plans everything so that it goes smoothly for everyone really sucks, especially when those plans continually fall apart in epic ways. Sometimes always having to be the one who reminds people to remember their purse, or drink enough water when they have a headache, or to stay out of the damn bike lane is exhausting. Sometimes, being the one who worries that everyone has everything they need to be happy, and comfortable, and content turns out to be a thankless task when it becomes apparent no one can or will reciprocate. Sometimes, when you are really having a hard time and the people around you are clearly not going to help you bail the boat…. you wake up, pack your bags and leave town. ZERO. FUCKS. GIVEN. If my best laid plans are going to continue to relentlessly backfire in my face, I will try being reckless and irresponsible. Because at this point, I have abandoned all hope and I have nothing to lose. I will let you know where I am once I figure out where this train goes.


Double deuce, Berlin. This is what happens when middle-aged women have had enough bullshit.


Vlog: Hamburg – Day 11 & Snack Food Trials: French Bistro Chips & Haribo Berries


Vlog: Church Bells in Hamburg


Gallery: Hamburg


You know you are an American when you hear gunshots and don’t bat an eye…. until you realize they are fireworks.


Vlog: Hamburg – Day 12


I kid you not, the (hopefully) drunk people next door keep making what sounds like elephant noises and scratching on the walls.


Vlog: Bremen – Day 12


So, I’m in Bremen, looking for food, which is impossible because it’s Sunday. There is a restaurant in the hotel, and I was trying to figure out the menu ahead on Google Translate…. I know the kids back home go crazy for “granular Werder bread and Butter potty for self lubricating” and “Tatar of Bremer Ox”.

Vlog: Bremen – Day 12: Rallies and Bremer Knipp


Vlog: There’s a Rally Goin’ On


Gallery: Bremen


You know, I always thought the whole “Germans love techno” thing was a cliche. It isn’t. Every single breakfast buffet, the grocery stores, the train station, even the little pharmacies they have everywhere all sound like Kraftwerk does their soundtrack. There is even a genre of schmaltzy “easy listening techno” that must be heard to be believed.


Vlog: Bremen – Day 13


German vending machine dinner. Blisters are so bad I can’t stand walking any further than the lobby.


Gallery: Alter Garnisonsfriedhof, Berlin (Old Garrison Cemetery)


Back in Berlin. Starting to feel like a home of sorts, I recognize things and feel more oriented. Had a moment where the crap GPS on my phone made me think I had gotten on the wrong train to Heidelberg. I am whupped and my feet look like a science experiment. Elliott is making me listen to German rap… which is surprisingly effective, but still not my kind of music.


Gallery: Der Märchenbrunnen im Volkspark Friedrichshain


Note to travelers: public toilets are not a thing in Berlin, so don’t drink a bunch of water at lunch and then realize you are miles from home and have to pee. ‪#‎fml


Gallery: Museumsdorf Düppel Fairy Tale Festival


They finally delivered the washing machine today. The guy installing it doesn’t speak any English, and starts babbling at me in German using words I’ve never heard before. I stare at him like an idiot, and he finally holds up the plug, points at the wall socket and says slowly “ZU KURZ” (too short). My heart sinks because he indicates that he can’t leave until he tests the washer and I don’t even know the word for extension cord, let alone where to buy one at a moments notice. I text the landlord in a dither and he tells me there is one in the living room. Sure enough, Elliott finds one behind the couch. After spending a considerable amount of time translating the buttons and knows I now have clean clothes hanging on the drying rack and all is well. We are now officially settled in Berlin.


Ok, file this under impossible. Elliott and I stopped at the cemetery where Jacob Grimm is buried. This is about 30 minutes by train away, a completely random and out of the way corner of Berlin. As we are walking through the cemetery taking photos, I see someone on the path ahead of us… And out of 3 million people in Berlin, Ben Kohn is standing in front of me. Seriously, I can’t tell you how astronomical the odds of that are.


Gallery: Alter St.-Matthäus-Kirchhof


I Can’t German, Part 57: Can I recycle this? Well, according to this symbol, I must sacrifice all my ghosts to the ghost cage for Canada. Soooo, yes?

"Sacrifice all your ghosts to the ghost cage for Canada". Photo by Scarlett Messenger
“Sacrifice all your ghosts to the ghost cage for Canada”. Photo by Scarlett Messenger

I am trying to research German hiking songs, but so far on the list of composers the first 3 are 1. A Nazi 2. A pedophile 3. A victim of suicide. Apparently “Hiking Song Composer” in early 20th century Germany was a very dangerous vocation.


You know, I just wanted to say that seeing this tiny, quiet memorial today really scared me. We can pretend like these things happen somewhere else. We can demonize an entire nation for their actions or their perceived apathy. We can act like this can never happen in our homeland. I’m here to tell you, for the last 2 weeks I have been walking past houses where happy families once lived that were later extinguished in unimaginable filth and horror. Seriously, look at these pictures and realize that many of the windows you can see housed men, women, and children who were literally yanked from their homes and exterminated like vermin. This can, and if we are not careful it will, happen in our own nation. Every German I have a conversation with asks me about Trump in disbelief. When people like Trump and Cruz spout their contemptible garbage about killing the wives and children of terrorism suspects, or rounding Muslims up into “neighborhoods” (BTW, back in the day they called them “‘ghettos”, and it was kind of how the whole Holocaust kicked off) the thing I fear most is not the jackass that is braying his hateful garbage, it’s the people who are buying into it. The people who are assaulting protesters at rallies. The people who are “saluting” Trump. The people who are swallowing this manure by the spoonful. They are the ones I fear. Because THEY are the ones that give monsters power. They are the batteries that genocide runs on. Trump may or may not be a joke, but the human detritus that believes men like him are the solution are not. Because this is how that story ends.

Der Verlassene Raum – Memorial Sculpture for the Jewish citizens, Berlin. Photo by Scarlett Messenger
Der Verlassene Raum – Memorial Sculpture for the Jewish citizens, Berlin. Photo by Scarlett Messenger

Work Song: De Hamborger Veermaster

“De Hamborger Veermaster” (The Hamburg Four-Master) is a sea shanty from Northern Germany, sung in a combination of English and Hamburgisch Low German, or Platt Deutsch dialect. The song dates back to the late 19th century, but is still beloved by the people of Hamburg and the surrounding areas as a work song and a piece of their folk identity.

De Hamborger Veermaster
Ick heff mol een Hamborger Veermaster sehn,
To my hooday!
De Masten so scheef as den Schipper sien Been,
To my hoo day, hoo day, ho – ho – ho – ho!

CHORUS
Blow, boys, blow, for Californio,
There’s plenty of gold, so I am told,
On the banks of Sacramento

Dat Deck weer vull Isen, vull Dreck un vull Smeer.
To my hooday!
„Rein Schipp“ weer den Oll’n sin scheunstes Pläseer.
To my hoo day, hoo day, ho – ho – ho – ho!

De Kombüs weer vull Lüüs, de Kajüt weer vull Schiet,
To my hooday!
De Beschüten, de leupen von sülvens all wiet.
To my hoo day, hoo day, ho – ho – ho – ho!

Dat Soltfleesch weer greun, un de Speck wör vull Modn.
To my hooday!
Un Köm geef dat blots an Wiehnachtsobend.
To my hoo day, hoo day, ho – ho – ho – ho!

Un wulln wi mol seiln, ick sech ji dat nur,
To my hooday!
Denn lööp he dree vorut un veer wedder retur.
To my hoo day, hoo day, ho – ho – ho – ho!

Un as dat Schipp, so weer ok de Kaptein,
To my hooday!
De Lüüd för dat Schipp, de weern ok blots schangheit.
To my hoo day, hoo day, ho – ho – ho – ho!

English Translation
I once saw a four-master from Hamburg.
To my hooday!
Her masts were as crooked as the skipper’s legs.
To my hoo day, hoo day, ho – ho – ho – ho!

CHORUS
Blow, boys, blow, for Californio,
There’s plenty of gold, so I am told,
On the banks of Sacramento

The deck was full of iron, dirt and grease.
To my hooday!
´Clean the ship´ was the captain’s most beautiful joy.
To my hoo day, hoo day, ho – ho – ho – ho!

The galley was full of lice, the cabin was full of shit.
To my hooday!
The biscuits walked away all by themselves.
To my hoo day, hoo day, ho – ho – ho – ho!

The salted meat was green, the bacon was full of maggots
To my hooday!
Snaps was only there at Christmas Eve.
To my hoo day, hoo day, ho – ho – ho – ho!

And if we wanted to sail, I merely say,
To my hooday!
She moved three footages ahead and four back again.
To my hoo day, hoo day, ho – ho – ho – ho!

And like the ship, so the captain was,
To my hooday!
The men for the ship were all shanghaied.
To my hoo day, hoo day, ho – ho – ho – ho!

Gallery: Hamburg

After having a very rough first 10 days in Berlin, I decided to run away from home and hit my reset button. I hopped on a train for Hamburg because it was the closest city to Berlin and took me closer to Bremen, which was one of the cities I intended on visiting. Any attempt at exploring Hamburg was thwarted by the extreme blisters I had developed and general fatigue from my travels. I decided to use the day as a day of rest and spent most of my time in my hotel watching German television.