Hamburg Kunsthalle (Art Gallery)

On Thursday, August 11, we went to the Kunsthalle, the main art gallery in Hamburg, a rainy afternoon well spent.http://translate.google.ca/translate?hl=en&sl=de&u=http://www.hamburger-kunsthalle.de/&prev=search

Not Lost in Hamburg

I did not get lost in Neugraben, , the Hamburg suburb where we are staying.  Wednesday, August 10 was my first time out alone, a rural Canadian bird trying its wings, or in my case legs, alone.  The signage is in German, which I do not speak, but my sister emailed me a Google map of the neighborhood before I left.  My Android charge permitting, I could look at this map if I got lost, but I didn't get lost.

We walked the two kilometres to the business district, had a 1.20 Euro boiled sausage in a bun from a kiosk at the front of a huge grocery/dry goods place, a tasty regular habit, and parted.  She went  on various errands and I retraced the route back to the house.  Then I boldly walked around the neighborhood and into the large green space a half kilometre away.

Daily we bring umbrellas, which usually prevent rain, but that day the umbrellas were useful against rain.

Nightly, including last night, a neighbor and the niece of the homeowner visit.  The niece stays here part of the week. The neighbor was  going on a date but the niece joined us for supper, and a sing-along later, with my sister tinkling the piano keys.

Today, more explorations, this time in Hamburg itself, a bus ride from this suburb.

Yesterday my canny sister figured out how to get the photos and videos from my crammed Android onto Google Drive, a step toward putting them on this blog.  Soon you faithful readers might see pictures, even videos, as well as words. 

Lubeck, Mein Lubeck

On Tuesday, August 9, we went by train from Hamburg to Lubeck.  On the train, I saw a small boy with a soother on a beaded chain hanging off his shirt, a handy chain I could have used years ago, to save washing a soother my daughter regularly dropped.  Sitting at a sidewalk cafe in Lubeck, we saw a stroller go by, with a child inside eating a bun with meat in it.  Alongside walked a small dog, waiting for the child to drop the bun.  People aren't so different around the world; neither are dogs.

"Welcome to Europe," my sister said as we walked on a bridge over the canal, between a round church made of brick and a line of brightly-painted buildings.  We went up another church's tower and saw this old city spread in all directions.

Rain, sun, cloud, rain, sun, cloud, bag lunch on a canal side bench began our seaward trip that day.

It continue with my sister's brilliant idea of going by train to the sea, 20-30 leisurely minutes farther north.  The sandy beach,  bordered by a 15m-wide band of large rocks to keep the sea in the sea, and the cobblestone boardwalk reminded me of Nice, France, where we were in January, 2012.  This was the northern, not the southern shore of Europe.  This was the first time either of us saw the Baltic Sea.

Freighters went up and down the inlet, bound for distant lands or for Lubeck.  A cruise ship floated by.  People were setting up a bandstand for a concert, whose last part we saw after walking two km down and two km back, the boardwalk's length.

"Lubeck, Mein Lubeck" was the choir's encore song  Many in the seated and standing crowd of several hundred swayed in time and sang along.

We swayed on the train back to Lubeck and  Hamburg, on one-day train passes for the whole state, costing a mere15.50 Euros each, money well spent, for Lubeck Mein Lubeck.         

Hamburg Portside Sunday Market

Hamburg's port is more than 800 years old, from its era in the Hanseatic League, a Medieval trading system along the North and Baltic seas.

It remains a busy port, but it had room for commute ferries, such as we rode on Sunday.  More than a hundred packed the ferry, which moved up the Elbe River, sometimes crossing the Elbe to a dock to give or get passengers.  Tugboats towed freighters, tour boats passed, small boats passed, the many cranes for loading and unloading container ships drifted by, and we passed a shipyard.  This port seemed bigger and busier than two I know from Canada, Montreal and Vancouver.  We saw from the water the Elbe Opera building.

We got off the ferry at a vast open air market that covered several intersecting streets.  There were clothes, fashion items, and lot of fresh vegetables, fruit, and fish.  Breakfast was smoked salmon on a bun for me, pickled herring on a bun for my sister.  We bought a flat of more than 10 avocados for one euro, about a dollar and a  half Canadian.

Then we found the music.

Inside a cavernous building, people drink and dance Saturday night, through Sunday morning, when they eat breakfast, but can still drink.  We saw plates of waffles go by, beer, and at each end of this 75m  long building a stage.  Bands played for an hour each, music coming from one stage or the other.

We listened to two bands, the first playing old rock and roll, such as "All Shook Up" and "Let's Twist Again," the second, at the other stage, following with newer, more metal-sounding songs such as "Radar Love" and songs by ZZ Top and Guns 'n' Roses.

We rode a ferry back downriver, and went ashore near a Polish Catholic church whose mass was just ending, in a nearby neighborhood, near the red light district   A walk of a few blocks took us to a Portuguese district and great pizza in a sidewalk cafe.  Another short walk took us to St. Michael's church, with its bright blue and white interior.  A nearby grassy park was a good place for a nap, as others found.  Children played, some with soccer balls, and families had picnics.

A couple buses brought us back to this suburb where I type to you, using my sister's laptop.  It is morning and she is not up, but she has been so busy guiding me around this city, speaking German for  me, interacting with the owner of the house we are at, an owner now away on vacation, and visiting with the neighbor who always seems around this house, and feeding its cat, that I am glad she sleeps late.

Without her, I would not have this trip of a lifetime.  Me, in busy, lively Hamburg! 

Hamburg Singalong

The song "Bei Mir Bist Du Schein" has a German title but mostly English words.  I have known and liked the jazzy tune for decades, but this week I heard it sung live for the first time.  My sister played the piano and our host sang the words.  Our host also sang, in its original English, "Summertime," with great feeling.  We three sang "Someone Like You," "Cry Me a River," and other songs familiar in many countries.  She sang "Autumn Leaves," whose tune I know, and whose words I have heard.  My sister played the piano with the creative charisma that has seemed natural to her since she was a little girl.  This was a memorable evening, as are all musical times.    

Translation Titters

Here in a suburb of Hamburg, the neighbor often visits the house owner.  Both speak German to my sister, who also speaks German.  All three speak English, my and my sister's first language.  Translation often produces funny results.

For example, we were talking about poetry, having seen the Heinrich Heine statue in Hamburg.  Philosophy came up.  I said something with the word "philosopher" in it, but the German equivalent sounds very different.  Our host heard "floss" and though I was  talking about the candy floss, or cotton candy, such as one eats.  My sister then said that in the future, when she walks past the philosophy department at the University of Alberta, the university where she worked for years, that she will imagine its people holding and playing with candy floss.

When she explained the work of a psychologist, another word somewhat different in German, she called him a brain mechanic.  The house owner, a special education school teacher, then explained the work of her school's guidance counselor by calling him a child mechanic.

There have been dozens of humorous incidents such as these since I arrived two days ago.

Before  our host left on Saturday afternoon in her motorhome, bound for the North Sea coast, where her boyfriend will meet her, before they board their boat to sail the sea, her neighbor invited us to supper at her place.  We had a nice stir fry of chicken and vegetables with ginger, in a creamy sauce that included peanut butter.  Dessert was a frozen torte we bought a couple days ago.  She suggested various sights to see during our time here, notably Berlin and especially Dresden. 

Hamburg Hot Dogs

Rested in this suburb of Hamburg, in a time zone nine hours later than home, I and my German-speaking sister walked in a hilly, treed area near the house she is to watch until late August.  Humidity was high, we took shelter under leafy trees during rain, and we saw a deer, smaller than deer I see back home in Canada.  Out of the woods, we stopped in the suburb for a hot dog whose wiener was longer than its bun.  We ate on a bench in a pedestrian-only street, watched the world go by, and then she had coffee and I had a rum ball, which we ate sitting on chairs at a sidewalk cafe on that same street.

The house owner is still here but planning to go for a holiday; hence my sister's presence.  The owner is a special education teacher, speaks fine English, and told us the challenges of her job, challenges which echo challenges that teachers face in Canada.  Her niece is here, studying toward a doctorate in chemistry, and working in a laboratory.  A neighbor, a nurse, has visited a few times; she towers over me and I am six feet two inches tall.  She is six four at least.  The house cat catches and eats mice in the yard behind the house, a yard which has a fish pond whose fish elude her by staying in the centre.

Now to supper, in this brick house in this quiet neighborhood.