Hamburg: Passing Through and Moving On

We’ve all heard sayings like ‘rose-tinted glasses’ and ‘never meet your heroes’, but rarely do I feel like we end up in situations where they apply. Up until recently for me that is.

It just so happened that Dad was going to arrive in Germany in the few days between our stops in Sweden and the UK, and Germany also happens to be located between those places. Basically, a perfect storm of let’s stop by Hamburg for a few days to say hi to dad and most of the rest of my German family. I was super excited to show Milly around the city I had lived in for a year, especially since Germany is one of the few countries Milly hasn’t been. Plus I have such good memories of my time in Hamburg, and that was during to heights of the Covid pandemic, so I was eager to experience Hamburg without the Covid atmosphere.

Arriving in Hamburg was much the same as always, jump out at the train station, get picked up by Oma, and driven out 10 minutes past the edge of the city into the state of Niedersachsen. At least some things never change. Oma’s cats were the same old fatties as always. There was a bustle of activity in the back garden as my uncle kicked off yet another summertime home improvement project. It felt homely and familiar. As we sat on porch eating supermarket potato salad and grilled sossies it felt like I could have been there the whole time (apart from translating Oma’s jokes to Milly).

Full of nostalgia, I was pumped to take Milly into Hamburg properly the next day, to really show off my country and a city that was dear to my heart. There was even a bit of pressure, as Germany is on our list of potential living/study candidates for the near future, and I wanted to help it put its best foot forward. So we got a ride to the train station, and after I had ogled at how much a 24 hour public transport ticket cost compared to the last time I was there, we hopped on the next train to the central city.

It immediately felt off. As we left the main train station and walked down my once-daily commute to language class, the feeling I used to get walking into the city just didn’t hit me. I took us down some of the main streets, spouting off memories and pointing out little nooks and crannies with anecdotes from my year, trying to capture some of those old feelings. But no matter where we went or what we looked at, I couldn’t seem achieve the sense of wonder and excitement I’d once had in this place. And I got the impression that Milly was feeling the same. I chalked it up to it being a Sunday, when most of Germany shuts down for a day just to relax. So the vast majority of shops were closed and there was an empty vibe about the place in general.

I took Milly on the general tourist rounds, and again, each stop failed to really live up to the hype I had in my head. There was a construction site in the main town square where the old souvenir stands and shops had been knocked down. It was a real struggle to find a clean bench overlooking the small lake in the middle of town. Finally, the real kick in the guts was the pretzels we bought were really not that good. It felt bad to admit, but it was true. I couldn’t help but wonder why I had such fond memories of the place.

We didn’t spend super long in town on the first day, but we came back for more the day after hoping to feel a bit more inspired. The extra crowds and bustle definitely helped, but the nagging feelings remained. What do we do now? What’s there to see? Both questions that appeared a lot during the day. It wasn’t all bad. We had an awesome lunch in a Nepalese/Thai combination restaurant. We climbed the Michel tower and had a stellar view over the city. I found my favourite beer and we had a drink at the edge of the Elbe. And it should be mentioned as well, that like everywhere else on this trip, we were trying to keep to a tight budget. I’m sure with a big chunk of cash you could have an absolute blast in just about any city, especially Hamburg. But that’s not really what this is about.

I slowly came to the realisation that I don’t think the city had changed at all. Even in the height of the pandemic pandemonium and lockdowns, Hamburg didn’t feel too different. Me, however? I know for a fact that I’ve completely changed.

At that stage I was fresh out of high school, bright eyed and bushy tailed. I had this all encompassing goal of going to uni and becoming an engineer. I knew then more than ever what I wanted to be and do. And aside from the small hiccup of Covid, it was all going to plan. Sure, I did end up trading in a Covid-riddled Germany for a fresh start in Christchurch (a choice I’ll never regret), but even then my trajectory and goals were very similar. The people around me made that time of my life special as well. The way my host family fully welcomed me into their midst throughout the lockdowns. The endless games of cards and Mariokart. Making new friends in language class, and through the family. My first girlfriend.

That was the Hamburg I still held in my head, or rather, the person I was the last time I set foot on those streets. I couldn’t just step off the train into the Hauptbahnhof and expect it to feel the same. Everything’s changed, not necessarily in a bad way, but in ways that feel huge. I’ve got the degree and certification I always wanted. I’ve experienced industries and pathways that I thought I would want to build my career in, that now I’m not so sure about. I have a partner that makes me look at cities and futures in ways that change my thinking from “what’s best for me?” to “what’s best for us?”.

Last time I was in Hamburg it was a specific solution to a known problem: go to the Hamburg technical uni to become an engineer. This trip feels more like another question, or questions. What comes after Christchurch? Where do we want to live? What do we want to do and be? The last few years have definitely shaken my perceptions and goals (rightly so, I’d say from 4 years of higher education), and I’ve gone on this trip to maybe come up with some answers. And I think the message I was getting from Hamburg is that it just isn’t the place for me anymore. Which feels a little bit sad, but also somewhat freeing. I can keep my fond memories of being a young nearly-twenty something excited about a new life in a big city at a cool school, and move on to looking for purpose elsewhere in the next stage in my life.

I think that’s all I have to say about that. Fortunately we only spent a few nights in Hamburg before we boarded a flight to the UK, so I didn’t have to wallow in those weird feelings for too long. I apologise if this got a little bit too introspective, but I think the main takeaway from this piece should be: Visit Hamburg! It is honestly a really cool city. Just don’t expect it to feel like you’re coming home.