CHAPTER 14
Let me dispel any ideas you might hold about a mythical city where juicy beef patties, toasted sesame seed buns, grilled onions, thick tomatoes, and fresh lettuce dominate every restaurant menu. I don’t know if that city exists, but if it does, despite the name, Hamburg is not it.
Never the less, as long as you are not in the market for a hamburger, the city does have some redeeming qualities. For me, the strong point was its distinct nautical atmosphere. Notwithstanding being 60 miles from the North Sea, it sits on the banks of the mighty Elbe, and is one of Germany’s major shipping ports- add to this the dozens of canals crisscrossing the city like a Teutonic Amsterdam, and the fleet of historic tall ships tied up along their docks, and you get a very unique inland maritime experience.
We spent our time there strolling the brick lanes that paralleled the waterways, critiquing the old wooden boats, and watching a whole army of white swans be placated by a ragged bum with a bag of stale bread- that may not sound too exciting, but this guy was a real circus act: he had the whole flock literally eating out of his mouth, and a whole crowd of Hamburgers looking on waiting for one of the giant birds to bite his nose instead of the bread between his teeth. Ringling Brother’s couldn’t have put on a better show.
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