
Right, I’ve gone through Lemmy, queueing and smoking in pubs; on to the Reeperbahn.

We left Lubeck after an early start (by me anyway) gave me a proper coffee with a view of the Rathaus for £1.60. I love German bakeries with their self services cafes and bargain prices.


The normal highlight of the city is the Holstentor, the city gate apparently sinking into the ground. After a night in Lubeck’s basic pubs, I knew how it felt.

We arrived in Hamburg on the slow train, just as Donald the Trump left the city in a state of self-destruction. Undeterred, we headed for the schnitzel/burger place at Gerüchte Küche at Altona, Hamburg’s Richmond-upon-Thames.
Alongside proper burgers, this was our first introduction to Ratsherrn, who seem to have established themselves as the local BrewDog, popping up in restaurants and cafes everywhere. Their Pale Ale was quite wonderful.
Hamburg is, apparently, the richest city in Germany, but the prices here were less than half those in Copenhagen. And the Schnitzel was sublime. Or certainly calorific.
Our hotel/hostel at Meininger made a forlorn attempt to look hip, offering Astra on tap as an English hotel would offer you Landlord. So 2001.
We did a quick recce of Hamburg that confirmed;
- It’s all about the water.
- Modern architecture lovers (pick me !) will be in heaven.
- It’s not very well pubbed.

Only one place to kick off Hamburg, of course. Mrs RM and I took elder son James in search of the famous beach bars, and the area made famous by the Blue Oyster Cult.
Two minutes out of the Reeperbahn station, we were traumatised.

Not by the stag groups, but the deprivation in the filthy streets down to the docks. It made Coatbridge seem smart.
We were glad to make it to the river.
The Strand Pauli is the traditional place for artificial sand and cocktails, full of people who I assume live nowhere near the ‘Bahn.
The Strand Pauli reminded us of a Jamaican beachside café, all bottled beer, barbecued meat and a slight smell of something illegal.

The Astra, in that atmosphere, was good; the first beer I’ve drank out of a bottle in 30 years. The apple cake was worth the four euros.
It’s an experience.

The Reeperbahn is deeply disappointing, unless you like policeman, flashing red windows and tat. Wigan is far more seductive.

Nosferatu? You really have me on the Cult reference.
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Don’t Fear the Reeper(bahn).
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Yay, I got it!
Never been to Hamburg, we always think it looks a nice modern city on tv. Munich is most commonly said to be the richest city in the country though. At least AFAIK.
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I’d have thought Munich too, but I get my authoritative info from Nina.
http://www.nina-travels.com/hamburg-germany/
Hard to judge from a few days, but certainly some spacious suburbs and modernity. I wouldn’t swap it for N’berg though.
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The reeperbahn is probably the worst place on earth.
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You may be right, but have you ever been to Maidenhead on New Year’s Eve ?
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Based on my limited experience, it’s the least dire area in town to try drinking. A few authentic looking old bars, and some lively music bars – once saw an enjoyable punk band called “Two Plastic Bottles in a Binbag”.
The rest of the city didn’t seem to have much excitement visible anywhere, which is pretty bad with a population of 2 million. I do quite like Hamburg, I’m just not sure why. Bomber Harris didn’t do it many favours.
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You’re right about the old bar, quite a lot walking up from the beach bars to the Reeperbahn station. Mrs and son really nervy though, though by the drugs and squalor rather than the prostitution,
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I vociferously object. You can’t hear me because I don’t want to shout too loudly and get a noise abatement order. The worst place on Earth is Glanford Park.
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I feel your shaking with anger, Tom. Sadly, I disagree; the home of Scunthorpe is attractively placed between the Trent and Sam Smith’s Berkeley Hotel. Rubbish football ground, mind.
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Arthur Harris didn’t do many favours to a great deal of other historic German cities either. A despicable man, who should have been in the dock at Nuremberg, along with the other war criminals.
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