Hamburg, 9pm

Here in Hamburg it’s 9pm and cold and wet. Colder than Paris but not as wet as it was when we left Rue Saint Dominique at 6am and tried to find a taxi. Both of us are totally knackered after eleven hours in transit. I’m a bit over windfarms, do you know how many there are in Germany? And they’re all beside the railway line.

Thanks to the stupid booking priorities of Rail Europe’s Australian operation, we had to make three separate train trips – Paris to Köln, Köln to Hannover, and Hannover to Hamburg. Four trains, including the one we had to change to in Brussels because the first one broke down. (Instead of having a relaxing forty-five minute break, we made our Cologne connection with literally one minute to spare.) The Cologne-Hannover leg was made enjoyable by the presence of a cheeky little German girl going home to Berlin with her dad. She was not old enough to walk yet, for which a trainload of people should probably be thankful. At Hannover we said ‘Auf Wiedersehen’ and her dad held her up to the window as the train pulled out.

From Hamburg station a very nice taxi driver took us to Deichstraße in the old town. Another man offered help when we had trouble finding the block, and yet another told us the right way to find the flat.

This perplexes me. I have been told by a usually reliable source (who shall remain nameless) that northern Germans are cold and unfriendly, yet today I have met four who were the opposite. I will admit that being in the company of a striking blond has its advantages, but surely that alone can’t explain their niceness. My informant is usually an oracle, but she may be wrong (or maybe she’s from Munich).

Ring Cycle starts tomorrow night. No, I’m not excited, couldn’t possibly be. (I won't be if it's set on a windfarm.)