In which spring, sprang, sprung.

Alle Jahre wieder... Hamburg was finally plagued with perfect weather this weekend, symptoms including sore feet from so much wandering, daffodil dizzies, warm sunglasses, massively increased ice cream consumption, evening sun lazing in through wide-open windows, a giant vat of pad thai and a plethora of soft and succulent ricotta lime cookies with toasted coconut. 

In which the Hamburgers get a sprinkle from the summer shaker.

Talk of summer in Hamburg always reminds me of an old menopause joke my madre told once in which the punchline was, "Ooh, yes, I think it happened on a Wednesday!" Or it makes me think of driving through the "downtown" of the place where I grew up: the town office, baptist church, and general store all nestled around a fork in the road, guarded by a stop sign and flanked by a big field where we used to fly kites and the dogs were allowed to run free once we'd crossed the street from our house. Don't blink or you'll miss it. (And I do miss it. Hence the splashing of nostalgia.) In reality, I think Hamburg gets a pretty decent dose of summer, although the many days of wet and gray inzwischen end up watering it down perhaps more than is kind. Not being in Germany for most of August meant that I forfeit the majority of my own Hamburgian summer experience, though I did manage to capture a day or two here and there in the surrounding months. --What's that you say? --Pictures or it didn't happen! Well, fine. Have it your way.

Summertime in Hamburg means wrangling some homies into a paddle boat and braving hissing swans and tour boat sneak attacks just for the simple pleasure of ice cream slurping on the far side of the Binnenalster.

Summertime in Hamburg means always bringing an umbrella with you regardless of whether or not the sun is shining the moment you walk out the door, and being able to find sunlight in places other than the sky.

And as with so many of these silly seasons, summertime in Hamburg means partytime in Hamburg! Such as at the Hamburger Sommerdom: a truly Germerican place. Full of germs, full of Germans, and chockfulla'merica. My favorite shoutouts to the latter include the Amerikanische SUPER-ZUCKERWATTE and the "Amerik. Popcorn", which is, of course, coated in sugar rather than the traditional American "Buttah, Salt 'n' Heart Attack" variety. Ah, yes, the Dom. Promoting healthy German-American cultural exchange since the 11th century.

 

And finally for tonight, die liebe blaue graue Nacht (Wolfgang Borchert's dearest of blue gray nights) settling upon the Hamburger Hafen from way up where the air is clear and all sounds are blanketed in dusk.



Another sprinkling of summer to come in the chilly days ahead.

In which Spring flirts with northern hearts.

The last signature on my ever-lengthening list of wonderful visitors belongs to none other than that most stealthy of seasons, that most fickle of friends, that eternally blossoming beauty-- Spring. She'd been here briefly in March, just long enough to convince us all to put the wool jackets into hibernation, O woe to the fools of April, that cruelest of months. And just when we were about to give up hope and place our order for a lifetime supply of flannel long undergarments from the L.L. Bean catalogue, she came back again, this time followed by the warm, juicy fragrance of fresh strawberries wafting from the red, polka-seeded huts on each street corner. With a blue sky up above and a Cloud 9 underfoot, the city erupted with blinding skin, charcoal sales, cries of: "Do you know where I left my sunglasses? --Wait, do I even have sunglasses?", and wrinkly, boxy-scented summer dresses that were too excited to be worn to bother with an iron massage. The number of water birdies skyrocketed as fuzzy-winged fluffballs with more cuteness than should be legal for any living critter to possess took to the Hamburgian banks and waters in the wake of Mother Goose, Donald Duck, and Natalie Portman.

Of course, most of the pictures you are about to see were taken during Spring's March visit, during which she was lovely as always, but unusually chilly in temperaturement. Hence the jackets. Let's have a look, shall we?

The Japanese Garden in Planten un Blomen regularly does afternoon teatime! There's a lovely woman there who chills out for hours at a time serving people tea, for free, youpieee!

Someone's missing their missing kitty.

Selected scenes from the Frühlingsdom. Seeing American flags in the D-land always throws me through a loop, though they're somehow easier on the eyes when perched atop a giant corncob.

And here are a few shots from the Hafengeburtstag (ie. birthday party for the harbor), taken at a particularly glowy moment. I did manage to see the opening of the Tugboat Ballet by chance when passing through on my way not to the Hafengeburtstag, which gave my inner tugboat captain ballerina much joy.

I like this one because the clouds look like sails. Big, poofy sails. Poof!

These next few are from a visit with Spring and another good friend from the south to one of my favorite Hamburg secrets.

Oh golly, that fabulously informative street art deserves a close-up!

 ...Which in term segues us smoothly into some more groovy street art! (Kein Mensch ist illegal --> No person is illegal. Painted on the side of a building in one of Hamburg's many "illegally" occupied parts of town.)

"You're it!"

See? I'm not the only one.

And finally, Spring wouldn't be Spring without a good Spring Awakening Creeper Photo. Ta da!

Love, m. xoxo