Technology is the Way to Do It

I’m feeling very smug. Technology is my friend. I got a free flight to Hamburg, on a few Star Alliance Air Miles I had left with Ethiopian Airlines. I wanted to use them up, as I hope never to travel with them again. And, I got Chat GPT to plan all my itinerary. Time in Hamburg itself and two or three recommended day trips to Lübeck, Schwerin and possibly Lüneburg. I downloaded the Hamburg HVV app, to give me directions, and used it to buy the Deutschlandticket (Germans love compound words), for 58 euros. That gives me a month's travel on all the S- (Schnell) and U- (Unter) Bahns (there are a lot of these in Hamburg serving the suburbs) and Deutche Bahn (DB) regional trains. That seems like good value to me. (Why don't we do that in England?)

Things start to go wrong when I get the S-Bahn from the airport into town. Google’s fault this time. Orientation at the station where I emerge is, as always, a challenge. But there are roadworks everywhere. And Google doesn’t seem to know about the much faster path, through the park, which I discover in daylight. Lost in the dark, for ten minutes, in a quiet area, in a strange city, isn't fun. But all is not lost. I'm rewarded with a free cocktail when I finally stagger in the right door.

Off, to Explore Hamburg

Today, starts with a mild kerfuffle as I have to try and work out which direction Unterbahn I need to take to get to the docks. It's not very clear. And the Berliner Tor Station, which I have to navigate, offers two obstacles. It's a major intersection, which is both bewildering and useful. It's on the main line, from the airport, for example. It also has possibly the steepest, longest, staircase and overhead walkway that I've ever seen.

Hamburg, The Harbour City

Hamburg is Germany’s second-largest city, a dynamic urban centre, based around its vibrant port, the third biggest in Europe (after Rotterdam and Antwerp.) This is an inland port, based on the River Elbe which divides into two main branches and several smaller ones as it flows to the north coast, at Cuxhaven. The result is a huge harbour area, with several basins and a complex network of canals and bridges.

And, eventually, I'm on the Elbe. On the Landungsbrucke (landing bridges), to be precise, where all the sightseeing boats moor up. And there are a lot of them. One of the most famous and largest harbours in the world, a hub of maritime history, also seems to be one of the most colourful and eclectic. All manner of craft are lined up beside the jetties. Everything from cruise liners, to antique sailing vessels, to beautiful small wooden craft, to paddle steamers, skiffs and utilitarian dredgers. The Rickmer Rickmers is a historic three-masted steel cargo sailing ship, now transformed into a museum ship.

It’s surrounded by an accompanying match of eclectic architecture. From the oddly soaring and wave topped Elbphilharmonie Hall, to the Gothic churches, and modern glass plated blocks. Round towers disguise war time air raid shelters. The Zombeck Tower was built in 1940, with capacity for 600, though it often sheltered up to 1,800. Twelve similar shelters were constructed in Hamburg. This one is now a Portuguese restaurant.. The Landungsbrucke is chock a block with tourist shops and restaurants. It's all enthralling.

So, a harbour cruise is definitely called for. Technology time again. I have to download an app to access an English commentary and put in my earbuds. I'm happy to do that. I'm not enjoying the choice of odd rock music blaring over the tannoy.

The Speicherstadt

We begin with the Speicherstadt (literally Warehouse Town), the largest warehouse area in the world and now a UNESCO recognised area. It was constructed in the late Victorian era, running into the twentieth century, on islands in the Elbe, designed to serve Hamburg’s Free Port. Its brick buildings rest on millions of oak piles. About half of the distinctive warehouses were destroyed during World War II, in Operation Gomorrah. They’ve been reconstructed, but this is still very much a commercial area. Flats are forbidden. Surprisingly, a huge amount of the storage is given over to oriental carpets, as well as coffee, tea and spices (it was once the world’s largest coffee repository), continuing a long mercantile tradition. Der Spiegel is also based here. There are 20 bridges, 14 of which are protected.

And so much for technology again. There is no signal for much of the trip, so my commentary is truncated. But there is a map on the app, so I can track our progress. It even gives me the boat’s speed. Nautical miles (or knots) are called seemeile (sea miles). Naturally, we see all manner of boats, large and small, especially as we emerge into other harbour areas. There's even a ship church.

The Elbphilharmonie Hall

Past the glittering and prominent Philharmonic Hall, which was opened in 2017, seven years late and well over budget. It has the longest curved escalator in the world, carrying visitors up to a deck, and great panoramic views across the harbour. I visit it later. For some reason you have to queue for a ticket, even though it's free to go up. As well as the concert hall, with its apparently amazing acoustics, it also contains a hotel and flats, with hidden balconies.

The Hamburg Hafen City

There's ambitious new inner city development all round the Hafen City here, very much ongoing. Though the area is low lying and very vulnerable to flooding, so the buildings are elevated, on wharves.

Down one branch of the Elbe alongside enormous wharves and huge derricks. One wharf area is the largest space for dumped cars in the country. It's a very clever boat I'm on. The roof unfolds when it rains sliding along to cover us all. Though limiting photo opportunities.

Altona Container Port

Then, back on the main north Elbe, west of Hamburg to Altona. Originally part of Denmark this area is really a separate city. The a variety of ships on display expands still further. super powerful tug boats and an old Russian submarine up next. on the quay, the distinctive domed Fischmarkt is a protected building and they only sell fish on Sundays. The container port here is brightly hued and surprisingly fascinating. And I need to engage all my superlatives for large. The ships are enormous. Gigantic. Known as Conroro ships. (Container roll.on,roll.off.)

Into a lock beneath the Kohlbrand curvy bridge. 35000 lorries a year pass over this, carrying cargo to and from the port. Though it prevents high cruise liners entering and is likely to be replaced with a tunnel. The Ross Canal we're in joins the two branches of the Elbe. There's audience participation: arm waving to ‘The Rhythm of the Night’, while we're waiting. Excellent. Past the mammoth Blohm and Voss dockyard, used today for repairing naval ships and mega yachts, with a dry dock for working on hulls.

The Reeperbahn

Still in Altona, I’ve walked up to the infamous Reeperbahn, in the St Pauli district. If people have heard of anything at all in connection with Hamburg it will be the Reeperbahn. With its lines of sex shows (or rather its buildings advertising sex shows), it is pretty much as expected. A wide street lined with cafes, bars and lurid signs. I'm sure it's much livelier at night, but there's little that's explicit, other than a few pictures of semi naked women pouring champagne over each other. One or two of the shows are open. These run 24 hours and there are quirky shops.

And there's the Beatles Platz, with four odd outline metal sculptures standing on what is supposed to be a giant disc, bearing the names of all their hits. One more figure is watching from the edge. That's Stuart Sutcliffe, who left the band before they became famous and then died very young. The drummer figure is supposedly a hybrid of Best and Starr. The city proudly boasts that John Lennon said, 'I may have been born in Liverpool, but I grew up in Hamburg'.

Hamburg Old Town

Here, the restaurant just round the corner suggested by Google is closed for the holidays. Wiener schnitzel in another, typically traditional with large paintings on the walls, by the town hall square then.

St Michael's Church is known affectionately as Michel by the locals. There is a cathedral but it's Catholic and this is the leading protestant church and the key religious building in Hamburg. It has a 100 metre tower you can visit, taking the lift to the viewing platform up top for eight euros. It's an excellent 360 degree view, but my vertigo sets in almost immediately. It's too narrow and insubstantial up here, above the city. I cling onto pillars, take some photos and descend as soon as I can.

I’m using Google to navigate the streets, while I’m walking. The lady giving the directions pronounces the German names even more badly than she does her French. I’m squirming, in case any of the locals can hear.

Hamburgers

Google AI tells me (literally) that I’m being ignorant when I inquire about the habits of Hamburgers. It tells me they’re food, not people. But the folk from Hamburg are indeed called Hamburgers. They greet each other with ‘Moin’ - it’s a kind of ‘Hi’ which features a lot in the city and in the whole of North Germany, for that matter. As I’ve mentioned before there's English signage everywhere, in Germany, sometimes featuring instead of German. It’s interesting how foreigners sometimes play with our language even more than we do. A whimsical ‘Smartments’ on new flats and ‘Diet comes from die’, on trays of chocolates.

And the food, hamburger, is named after this city, explaining why they’re beef not ham. A minced beef dish, often referred to as ‘Hamburg steak’, was popular in Hamburg, in the nineteenth century, and German immigrants brought this dish, and the concept of a beef patty, to the United States.

Lübeck or Schwerin?

I've forgiven AI so far, but then things get much worse. I've decided to go to Lübeck and use HVV, to plan my route and timings, to the Hauptbahnhof (main station) there. Except, after I've set off, on the S-Bahn, the app announces that my train, (from the Hamburg Central Station) has been cancelled. I will have to wait 50 minutes for the next one. A rapid rethink. I decide I'll try for Schwerin instead. But no. There are works on the line. No direct trains until November. HVV offers several lengthy alternatives, some requiring bus replacements. Chat GPT didn't mention that. This really is like England. I ask at the train information desk. They suggest I go via Lübeck.

So, a long day combining both seems like the best and most efficient option.

Not Getting to Schwerin

The double decker train to Lübeck is packed. I'm obviously not the only one who thinks train travel is good value here. Although they did cancel the last train, so that possibly has something to do with it too. As well as the closure of the main Berlin-Hamburg line. The scenery is gently rolling rural, from almost immediately outside Hamburg. I almost have time to appreciate it.

But disaster, when I arrive at Lübeck. The connecting train, to Bad Kleinem, is running 30 minutes late. So, the next connection,, on to Schwerin is not going to work. Overall journey time, from Lübeck to Schwerin, is now estimated at another three hours. I don't think so. Other than the fact that Schwerin is supposed to have a very nice castle on a lake and was recently UNESCO listed it's in the Lake District, and also in the state of Mecklenberg-Pommern. And I wanted the tick. So, I wait and ride the Bad Kleinem train, when it finally arrives, to Herrnburg, the first proper village, on the line, over the border.

Herrnburg, Mecklenberg-Pommern

Herrnburg is a mainly modern settlement, strung along the main road, with a sprinkling of wood framed older buildings, a red brick Gothic church and, in pride of place, an old customs house. No shops, except for two stores, by the railway station. The Edeka has a café and a counter assistant who doesn't speak English (no-one does round here and why should they, despite all the signage?) so I'm dredging out my basic German. I don't understand the word she's using to describe the contents of the sandwich I'm pointing at. but, she does a very passable impression of a turkey.

I think an hour here is plenty, but even so the train is 20 minutes late. It seems a matter of principle for Deutche Bahn. And the driver is in no hurry to leave the station, when it does arrive. A scheduled nine minute journey back to Lübeck has now taken 45. Technology has also failed me weatherwise. The forecast says 16 degrees Celsius. It is well over 20. So I'm sweltering, as I wait and wait.

Lübeck, Schleswig-Holstein

Lübeck is the far side of Schleswig-Holstein state and is possibly worth all the angst. The Old Town, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, with its approximately 1,800 listed buildings (Gothic, Baroque, Renaissance and Classicist styles), on its islet, is deliciously pretty. It has winding alleyways and subtly pastel painted tall houses with striking stepped gables. There's a cathedral, with double towers, as well as the green spires of St. Mary's (also double towers), St. Peter's and St. Aegidien churches soaring aloft. I love the handsome shoulders. The Seven Towers are renowned and even feature on jam jar labels. There are more, but those are the important ones.

The magnificent Hanseatic town hall is large enough to be called an ensemble. The oldest part dates back to the thirteenth century. There’s a later Gothic façade with rounded holes and a Renaissance arbour. Apparently it’s a ‘stone fairytale’. Lübeck was, in fact, the centre and key member of the Hanseatic League.

Biergartens line the tranquil Trave River and there’s a beyond picturesque row of old red brick salt storehouses opposite (if you ignore the scaffolding). The whole delightful old town entrance, via one of the river bridges, is guarded by the medieval Holstentor (gate), with its two imposing towers and multitude of staircases. That’s important enough to be depicted on some of the German two euro coins.

Lübeck and World War II

Much of the splendour of the Old Town is due to restoration. Over thirty percent of the area was heavily damaged, in Operation Millennium, in World War II. The RAF raid on Lübeck, carried out by 234 bombers, was the first major attack on a German city during the war. The rationale was to damage German morale and retaliate for earlier attacks on British cities. The collapsed towers and bells of St. Mary's Church, serve as reminders of the event.

Lübeck's Other Attractions

There's shopping all down the pedestrianised centre, of course, and my delight is marred, for a moment, when I'm charged a euro to use the toilet in a mall. I pay up, though it's a steep demand. Then I notice that everyone else is just walking in. I'm thinking I've been conned, but I'm not sure how.

Lübeck also has house museums, devoted to Willy Brandt and Gunter Grass, and a Marzipan Museum. Willy Brandt, Chancellor of Germany in the early 1970s, was born in Lübeck, in 1913, when it was a Free City State. His birth name was Herbert Ernst Karl Frahm, but he changed it, more than once, to evade detection by the Nazis. Controversial Nobel prize awarded writer Gunter Grass was actually born in Danzig (today in Poland). He lived in Lübeck for the latter part of his life. And, apparently, marzipan is a local delicacy, not to be confused with the vile paste we buy in England, to roll on top of cakes.

Lüneburg, Lower Saxony

I’m risking the railways again today, to travel to the spa town of Lüneburg. It ticks the state of Lower Saxony and was once important enough to be part of the Duke of Brunswick-Lüneburg’s title. (Lunenberg in Canada was named for the Duke and therefore after this place.)

Today's a good day. The train leaves almost on time and arrives only seven minutes late. Another riverside setting; this time it’s the Ilmenau. And, OMG this place is cute. The houses, mills and towers are mainly Gothic red brick, a sure sign of historic wealth. Some date back to the 1200s. This is a town where you really do have to keep looking up. Signs and statues aplenty but the crow-stepped gables are extraordinary, with their three dimensional designs. There are even doors up aloft. I'm sitting opposite the one used as an architectural illustration in Wikipedia. And I’m sampling the carrot cake, on my worldwide mission, to compare different versions. This carrot cake actually has rolls of carrot adorning the butter icing. I'm not sure I approve.

Lüneburg and World War II

Lüneburg escaped the massive devastation inflicted on Hamburg, during World War II, but still emerged from the conflict dilapidated and badly in need of repair. Plans were mooted to tear down the whole of the old town and rebuild it, but a citizen, with the unlikely name of Curt Pomp, began a Preserve Cultural Heritage Movement and instead the buildings were restored. It seems he also had a prescient eye on tourism. Today, Lüneburg has the second highest density of bars in Europe. Presumably, after Krakow, though this boast seems hard to prove. I can try.

Lüneburg featured significantly in World War II in other ways. This was the place (on the heath) where the German North West armies surrendered. It was also the home of the Belsen Trials, which preceded the Nuremburg Trials and took to task those who worked at Belsen and Auschwitz.

Exploring Lüneburg

A tour of the key sights, attempting to use Google and hence walking in the wrong direction several times. The Rathaus, on the marketplace, dates back to 1244, but has an ornate baroque frontage. It escaped war damage, but had already been badly affected by a seventeenth century storm. The Am Sande Square is even older. The Old Town unexpectedly extends for some distance. There’s a lot to see: a warren of pedestrianised streets and very little that is tacky. (Though, incongruously there's an Irish pub housed in a riverside brick building.)

The German Salt Museum

Just outside this area is the unexpectedly fascinating German Salt Museum. Lüneburg was a major player in the Hanseatic League, because of its salt mine. It provided the region’s essential food preservative and this white gold made the town rich. There's even a timber crane (1797), the Alter Kran, in the harbour area, on the riverside, which was used to load the salt.

The use of salt as a preservative was said to have been discovered accidentally by a local hunter who dipped a hide in a pond. A typical legend, but this is only one version. The salt was used especially to conserve herring, from Scania, in Sweden and an old salt road to Lübeck ( I saw the storehouses there) was even established. Although they had to revert to ships as the carts were robbed frequently. But the herring went elsewhere or were fished out and the demand for salt diminished over the years. The mine closed, in 1980, after operating for over a thousand years.

The Lübeck Water Tower

Another must see, in Lübeck, is the Old Water Tower. Google informs me that this was built in the early twentieth century and forms part of the old town walls. Only one half of this information is correct. It's a great view across the red roofs of town from the top. Not quite Dubrovnik, but pretty. There are stairs descending through the various floors which have historic exhibitions. But the staircase is open sided and illuminated by a creepy fluorescent blue light. No way I can venture down that without wanting to throw myself off it.

Essen und Trinken

Eating and drinking in Germany, this trip, has been difficult and disappointing, so far. My favourite kartoffelsalat is elusive. Even wurst isn't widely available; not that I want any. Schnitzel is dry and unexciting. Burgers abound (of course). Cakes dry and not as tasty as they look. A triumph of style over substance. And Coca Cola seems to have been entirely supplanted by the local caffeine heavy Fritz Cola, which I don't much care for. Service is diffident and also elusive. Perhaps I'm looking in all the wrong places. My hip hotel (industrial chic warehouse style with ‘storage room lifts’) doesn't serve anything remotely Germanic. The moussaka might scrape a three out of ten. The pisco sour, however, is excellent.

Let's see what an inn by the river in Lüneburg brings. (There are indeed, many bars.) Sparkling rhubarb juice. And actually a very tasty, if expensive, at tourist prices, meal of chicken, with a creamy mushroom sauce and really delicious duchesse potatoes. And I haven't yet sampled one of the ice cream parlours. A sundae is a Becher here. Strawberry flavour with fresh fruit goes down very nicely, on the harbour waterfront.

Leaving Lüneburg

There are two stations at Lüneburg, east and west, opposite each other, across a square and both have platforms for Hamburg. It’s very confusing. The west station is just one platform and the station building is now a casino. The east station is the main town station and the HVV app suggests that the trains from here are faster. It's all a gamble and I'm bound to make the wrong choice. There used to be a third station on the square, which served the south. Thank heavens that's been demolished. Sure enough, the ‘fast train’ is running 15 minutes late. The Internet tells me that 'just 62.5% of DB's ICE and IC long-distance trains made it within six minutes of the arrival time, in 2024'. There are worse things than British Rail.

Bremen

A last day and a last ' free journey’. No Schwerin, (sadly), has meant a change of plans, but I'm determined to make good use of my Deutschlandticket. Bremen earns me another state tick; Bremen city is an enclave state which also incorporates Bremerhaven. And it is only an hour and a bit from the Hamburg Hauptbahnhof, though the scenery, it has to be said, is not very exciting, in Lower Saxony. Imagine my astonishment, when Google informs me, that the bustling Bremen Central Station, where I've just arrived, is permanently closed.

Exploring Bremen

Bremen, however, is another unexpected delight. It's eighteen minutes to the centre, according to Google, and ten minutes in reality. On the way, in the midst of the urban agglomeration, a snippet of countryside. A river, green banks and a windmill.

Once there, I follow a tourist trail, of large headed brass and steel nails (The Nagel Route), for one and a half kilometres. It’s not very obvious, not always very easy to find and I seem to be the only person pursuing it. It begins at the thirteenth century Church of Our Lady and the statues of the 'Bremen Town Musicians'. These animals commemorate the Brothers Grimm story of that name and are said to bring you luck if you rub them. The PR seems to have rather missed the point that the animals never actually made it to Bremen, in the tale. But there’s a long queue of folk waiting to have their photo taken with them, so onwards, past the enormous Rathaus.

The Bremen Town Hall really is an ensemble, originally built in the Gothic style, in the early fifteenth century, after Bremen joined the Hanseatic League. The building was renovated in the so-called Weser Renaissance style, in the early seventeenth century. Then, a new town hall was built, next to the old one, in the early twentieth century. Next door, is St Peter’s Cathedral, in darker stone, which, like the Our Lady Church makes it appear suitably ancient. And indeed, the oldest parts date back to the eleventh century.

Opposite, lies the grandeur of the Market Square. the stand out building here is the gilded Schütting, the seat of the Bremen Chamber of Commerce, Other landmarks abound, the most famous being the figure of the legendary Roland. Little is factually known about Charlemagne’s military leader, but the unmissable fifteenth century statue symbolizes the city’s freedoms and rights. (They're having a God Squad rock concert on the middle of the square).

Böttcherstraße

The nails take me on to Böttcherstraße, a short (100 metres) and quaint alley of early twentieth century houses (and shops and restaurants), cleverly marketed as a cultural icon. The gilded bronze relief, 'Der Lichtbringer' (The Bearer of Light), by Bernhard Hoetger, adorns the entrance. Wikipedia tells me that the pervading architectural style here is Brick Expressionism. Words fail me.

There's a glockenspiel high above the tourist information building, timed to play several times a day. Then, alongside the River Weser. It's probably more 'deep and wide' here than it is in Hamelin, further south. There are pleasure boats, moored by the promenade, of course.

The Schnoorviertel

Back through the Schnoor Quarter, a toytown wonderland of 111 fifteenth and sixteenth century wood framed houses, with wildly pitched roofs, people dressed as pirates and, naturally, more boutiques and cafes. There's a statue labelled Jacobus Major, which I thought was a pirate too, but it turns out to be apostle James the Great, attired as a pilgrim. So maybe the guy in a tricorn hat isn't a pirate either. Schnoor is the old German word for 'string'; rope was once crafted here. It's also a good way to describe the buildings, strung closely together. A Bremen tourist site tells me that 'The New York Post ranks the unique streets of the Schnoor among the "coolest" in the world'. It's definitely a tourist trap. It's crammed.

The station toilet at Bremen charges 1.5 euros. Perhaps I wasn't conned in Lübeck after all.

Heading Home from Hamburg

I decide I will relax, for a couple of hours, in my hip hotel, before taking the adjacent S-Bahn back to the airport. But it's living up to its hipness. They've cleared the dining area and the live music, presumably intended for later, is rehearsing very loudly. Time to go home. But North Germany has been a great trip, delivering far more than I expected. And that’s definitely the best way round.

Read more about Germany here.