It's all happ'nin' at the hahbah.

One of the traditional goals of Hamburgian hooligans, young and old, is to boogie down all through Saturday night on the infamously entertaining Reeperbahn and then go straight to the fish market along the harbor at 5am the next morning. The Hamburger Fischmarkt is like the Sam's Club (or Costco depending on which coast you're from) of farmers markets. People flock there even at the crack of dawn to buy massive quantities of pasta, giant fruit baskets, boxes of boxes of boxes of chocolates, and, of course, fish. Here are a few photos of one particularly chilly morning in early spring, which was not actually preempted by many hours of booze and techno. Well, not on my part, anyway.

Many of the vendors at the aforementioned Markt do their best to continue entertaining those whose Saturday night fever has not yet been quenched. They auction off their goods in the liveliest of spirits and occasionally hurl produce into the crowd. I think this picture was taken just before or after an incident involving flying bananas.

And like at any good German market, every other stand is more than ready to feed you from their bountiful plethora of Fischbrötchen. Pickled herring, anyone?

Although massive quantities of dead fish are always wildly exciting, the time the harbor really takes the spotlight is during the annual Hafengeburtstag -- the weekend-long birthday celebration for the harbor in all of its harbory goodness. During this time, the Elbe disappears under hundreds of hundreds of boats of all sizes and ages, from the cutest little tugboats to retired military submarines to the firework-spewing cruise gargantuans, such as the Queen Elizabeth II, which take up half the river by themselves. It's almost impossible to plow through the crowds of people along the docks who have come to enjoy the parading ships, shanty choruses, open ship tours, and other fun harbor-related activities.


We were checking out this rad eastern European beauty when our attention was drawn to a faux rescue operation, during which a man jumped out of a helicopter into the river and then climbed back up into it. Rad rad rad.

My favorite part, however, and my main reason for coming to sample the festivities on a most dreary spring afternoon, was the Tugboat Ballet. Ladies and Gentlemen, meine Damen und Herren, you have not lived until you have seen tugboats doing pirouettes.

Allow me to explain.

The Tugboat Ballet, or Schlepperballet, is essentially exactly what it sounds like. Loudspeakers set up along the docks blast appropriate Straussian works such as The Blue Danube while tugboats dance around in synchronized spins, sways, and general Boot-y shakings. (Excuse me while I laugh hysterically at my own sleep-deprived wit - das Boot is the German word for boat.) The fire patrol boat played the roll of the beautiful ballerina slash centerpiece as it elegantly sprayed fountains of tutu into the air around it.

And, what would a festival be without kilometer upon kilometer of over-priced rides and beer and leckeres festival foods?


In short: The Hamburgers love their waters, love their harbor, love their festivals, and love celebrating in general, even in the dreariest of weathers.

To conclude, here's moving on up from water to sky. This was the sunset out my kitchen window on the next day.