The ferry was already sitting at the small dock when I arrived half an hour early following the first, shortest, leg of my trip to Amsterdam. I had given myself more than enough time to drag my bag and myself down to the dock. Still, the morning was beautiful and the water perfectly placid. I sat and waited.
Gradually, the regular passengers started arriving and, fairly soon, a long line has formed, mostly with bikes. Seri0usly, there were a lot of bikes on board. More than people I’d say. At an estimate.
While enjoying my early morning ferry ride, I had a sudden message from Deutsche Bahn telling me that my train had been cancelled. I almost went into full panic mode before I realised it was my train tomorrow from Hamburg. Apparently there are strikes in Germany all weekend which, of course, affects me.
Having been a victim of Deutsche Bahn previously, I jumped straight onto my Flix app and booked the second last seat on a slightly later leaving bus. Bloody German trains.
That disaster averted, I managed to catch the decidedly not cancelled train to Copenhagen for the first leg of my trip.
The train was fully booked. It’s nice that people are not flying, but it does mean one should try and book an aisle seat where possible. It always feels like you’re trapped.
The five hour trip to Copenhagen was comfortable enough, and we arrived ten minutes late. Of course, the train came in on the long platform 26. I didn’t mind the walk, but I would have preferred to have had the extra ten minutes.
The train to Hamburg was another full one and everyone was on the platform waiting for it. At least I didn’t have to wait very long, though I had thought I’d have time to buy something to eat. Still, never mind. I had some emergency Mentos.
Mind you, the chap sitting next to me came well-equipped. He laid out an entire picnic. Rolls, margarine, knife, smelly sausage. He supped sufficiently. Later, he told me I could speak German if I liked. I tried. He was wrong.
Then, finally, after sitting at the ferry stop 13 hours beforehand, I arrived in Hamburg. And, would you believe it, my hotel was right across the road from the station and next door to somewhere selling beer and pig. Needless to say I was in great need of both.
And the shower was excellent. In the hotel, not in the restaurant. I have no idea what the shower in the restaurant was like.
