Unexpected Cologne, heaviness of Hamburg.

Im writing this at the beginning of my day 3, sitting in the lobby area of the delightful hostel I’m in just next to Hamburg dbf railway station. My first hostel experience, and they have been utterly lovely. I didn’t realise what I was missing until two lovely youngish people in English accents greeted me when I arrived, and then chatted about living in the north of England, it was a conversation. They gave me tips of getting around and a few route maps for walks. After which I got totally lost trying to find anywhere nice in Hamburg, and ended up walking around the more commercial precinct area, and not the river walk and harbour. I got my bearings all wrong, when trying to follow the map. Im trying to enjoy Hamburg, because I was supposed to. But I wasn’t. I wasnt lost either. Just wasn’t getting where I was wanting to. So I backed up, found a lake, took a few pictures that I’m not that happy of and dived back to the hostel for a cheap beer and pizza in the sports bar with sky documentaries of West Ham Utd and the arsenal invincible season on the screen.

Cologne was meant to be the stop off on the way to Hamburg. Cologne, I was told, wasnt that nice. So far. My experience have been somewhat the opposite. Maybe it matters that I stayed in a lovely hotel on the river in Cologne, right by the bridge, maybe it’s where the sun rose over the water. Maybe setting helps. It was totally the romantic slightly more expensive day. After a long days travel 1st day, I did pick a hotel for the first night.

Day 2 started at 3am again. Too much excitement, too much exploring energy. The street below where the hustle and bustle of the night before was completely empty. I did take a photo, but it was too smeary. But I noticed the lack of sound. Nothing. Just me and my heartbeat. An hour later and im still not asleep and I start to see the amber glow over the river. The early bird catch the worm. It might be my only day ever in Cologne, and, the moments I could have were better being in, that trying to sleep through. And my word what a first two hours of the day.

Sun rising over the east of the river. I wasnt even the only person taking photos of it. I picked up my camera for the first time in about a year (my street camera) and had a ball. Yes I could have ventured further away from the river and bridge, and I discovered the cute city streets, after id had breakfast, but pre breakfast and on one room espresso, I knew my food limits. (The day before ended with only a pizza at 6pm, hunger was about to hit me)

I walked along the river, id seen the bridge the night before and that it was a walkway along the railway line. A river, trains and a bridge, sunrise. That would be enough. Except, it was covered in sunrise glistening love locks. By the million ( later I would discover that the other side of the bridge had then double and triple layered) but this was something beautiful. And trains. And sunrise. And the sound of about 12 flocks of parakeets going over. I didnt hear them at all the rest of the day, so I got a parakeet fly past all to myself. The morning call in cologne was of the green feathered variety. Trains busy on a Sunday morning at 6am local time.

Just gorgeous. I was in heaven.

Lovelocks and Trains.

Rose adorned cafe arches on the waterfront. The single bicycle.

My camera and I became friends again. It had been a while.

We had a good play. It was only when I got back that I realise I hadn’t cleaned the lens. oops, That didnt matter, the fun was in the doing and the exploring, and the being. It was only hunger that stopped me staying out, oh and I was beginning to fade. So back to the hotel, and joy of joys, free pastries and coffee in the next door restaurant. A place of renowned history, its visitors included the politicians, yet it was this a photo of 7-8 boys aged about 10 that struck me, especially the little blond boy looking at the camera. I asked about the photo in the hotel lobby, but they had no idea. To be honest, I would have been the other blonde boy looking at the one doing him, wondering if we should be doing that, wondering if we were about to be told off, in awe at someone being so daring.

But, why this photo in a gallery full of the rich and famous, and why was this one right by the door, waiting for me to notice it. Theres something about innocence, risk and adventure. Theres something about the wild, feral and daring. Theres something about the freedom of the bikes and scooters, the world is possible. Theres something in the eyes of the boy, as the rest watch on. I wonder who the boy is, and I wondered, where he is now.

5 pastries later and im back in bed for a few hours. The rest of cologne to explore before my train at 1. I decide I have to eat before the train, but I should maybe explore the city first, I still had five pastries to burn off and this needed to be a later second breakfast to last until Hamburg, so I walked around.

Things that struck me.

1. The separation of sacred and sexuality. Moulin rouge at the theatre, Cathedral in the background.
2. Vibrant colourful shops.
3. The streets cave in on each other and bend in the air. History set the rules of angles and keeps them curved, slightly wonky. Character is slightly wonky. (The modernity of Hamburg later is stark. Its lines are straight. That ive seen so far)
4. Stopping to cross the road so a cute train could go past. People smile on cute trains.
5. No one stands like this when in a shopping centre, like they do in front of a cathedral. The Sacred, the spiritual, the historical burns at our aweness. Colognes history is front and full, yet on a side street theres the city walls. (For some reason I feel like I’m in Newcastle.)
6. Theres something cute about watching people take adoring photos of each other.
7. A commemorative community memorial to Liam Payne from the band One direction. People stop, they look, they remember, the fragility of life.

After an explore, I take a punt after a first real indecision moment, on one of the cafes in along the street near the river. Trying to find a vegetarian breakfast. It had to be done. My relatively gluten free for 2 years stomach didn’t appreciate this lot later, but, it was almost like on this Sunny Sunday morning, by the river, me on a date with myself. Two days into a week long one.

I have extra water as the morning sun burns on the back of my neck. I notice the groups and couples. I realise that I am able to sit and eat in this space for as long as they do, and they can meander with conversation, laughter and stories. I can take my time.

But somehow I cant not eat at my normal rushed pace, yet theres no where else I need to be. But I struggle to slow down. I have group or couple time, theres enough tables. Im no inconvenience in taking my time. I write a bit. I want to share all this with someone. I want to make it a slow romantic morning. Im struggling to slow down. Im struggling to get out of excited, slightly ‘nervous of travel’ mode. Im struggling to relax when Im taking in everything. I get out my journal and write.

Trying to stay in the consciousness, in the moment.

too many things to enjoy, to notice

Trying to make this food take longer

When on my own

Slowing down

Theres no rush to eat James.

Im barely profound.

Just trying to remind myself, force myself to slow down. Im bustling with energy, brimming with enjoyment, and I want to share it, tell everyone about it first….and find it harder to just take it in, and it can all just be for me.

It’s all so new.

I want to stay here longer, and maybe thats was it too, I was only going to be there for a day.

I’m also too attuned to what’s happening around me, and the guy with the Scouse accent talking endlessley about football was irritating, he didnt stop. The food was glorious and the setting delightful though.

So I was rushing to make sure I made the most of it.

Im starting to wobble a bit like the little guy I saw on the precarious edge on the bridge.

Self service checkouts in a foreign language are fun. I only wanted a bottle of water for the train. No obvious button to have it in English. I cant tell the difference between sparkling and still water in the bottles in German. I buy the wrong ones. This was funnier at the time. I sound unhappy as I write it today. It was genuinely meant to be funny. Like in the list of funny things I experience on the trip.

A slightly unsettled me gets to the station. I get travel anxiety. Two European trains in now, and I know my tickets are valid, I know it’s all going to be ok. Doesn’t stop me thinking I need to be on the platform with 15 mins to spare though. I notice the view of cologne cathedral though the glass of the station, people travel, between the places of the world and a sacredness of their souls. Sometimes theres more than glass in the way of the home were meant to find.

I notice this.

I meant to be on the platform with 15 mins to spare. On this platform.

Follow your heart. Thank you Universe. You always turn up.

And I try and re find that heart through what’s becoming the busyness of my increasing anxiety noise. I realise its mothers day in social media world (USA) that doesnt help. I try and shut that out. She’s not here. But I put her in. I should have stayed off my phone. But my phone is my access to people, friends and conversations. The place where I want to share and give people my enjoyment, after so so many have been people who’ve held me through pain. I like to give.

I journal on the train. I feel sick…. pastries and gluten. A few friends check in and the conversation is lovely. The train drags. I go deep and listen to all the stuff thats in my head, and where it’s all from. I meant to be on an adventure, Im meant to be being brave. Im meant to….

(Speaking of which. Today. Trains

Cologne to Hamburg. Train 5. 404 Km. Total trip miles 1283. )

The train is fine, theres absolutely nothing wrong with it, comfortable, air con, nice seats. The problem is in my head. It’s a long journey. The second half is better. I get my first deutche Bahn food. crisps and appletise. no more bread. The hostel is next to the station. I walk around the city. Its straight lines and grey, compared to colognes colour and vibrancy. I buy a smoothie – thank you to JL for the donation on Kofi. Receiving this email at a bit of a low point, actually made me cry. I didnt even get the focus right on the photo. But. Thank YOU.

I try and make myself enjoy the evening. But im not feeling the Hamburg love. So I closed the evening off with Pizza and Beer and sport on the hostel TV.

I was so wrong when I said I didnt think I would learn something. Thanks universe.

I noticed how much I like being with people, I like conversation, I like giving and sharing, even if i live on my own, im never far from being around people whether thats at work, or caffe Neros in town.

I notice…. that when im regulated, that when im fully in myself, I am home in myself anywhere in the world and that was beautiful in the morning sunrise. But my thoughts, and yucky trauma ones got louder as the day went on. Id checked out from my own inner home and wondered into the forgotten barren lands of indecision, self absorption and fear, and I wanted to go back home. The strange thing has been is that my own flat hasn’t felt like the safest of places for me, yet, that inner struggle and I wanted to get back to somewhere familiar. And that wasnt a grey night in Hamburg. And this couldnt be written at the end of day 2.

I slept well. Im wearing my favourite T shirt today.

Love over fear. Its pink. Thats what it says. It’s from the You tube group called ‘Yes Theory’ one of their phrases is embrace discomfort. Im doing that.

Discomfort on the inside always needs an embrace.

Im eating breakfast as the rain pours down on the grey Hamburg streets. And I realise. I dont want to be anywhere else but here. That I am on an adventure. That I am home where ever I am. That love is everywhere and love is strong.

The words of Joni Mitchell were in my head as I slept. ‘I never knew love at all’ in the song ‘Both Sides now’.

I cant imagine what that must be like, not now.

I am travelling solo because I want to, but I would so love to be sharing it with someone who it’ll be fun and right and delightful to. Doesnt mean that I dont know love at all, finding love on the inside, the inner unconditional love. Love and I have got close.

As I sit here, I dont care that it’s raining, I like watching the way that people deal with it as they cross the busy roads. The rain is keeping me here indoors. I dont mind at all. Hamburg can wait. Listening to my heart. Listening to what I need, taking myself back into the place of my own security, as I write this, is far far more important. The rain is a blessing today. Yesterday it would have been a curse.

Im loving the conversation of the hostel staff. Im in a place to drink coffee and write. Ive dug into a bit of the deep and im sure theres more to do. I feel more at home in myself, a place that I know is always warm. I am here. Just me. I can do this however I want to do it. Writing is a creative loving force. Expressing. Love bleeds from what the heart writes.

Follow your heart. Love over fear.

God i’m doing the basics in self help. And from the place of privilege where I can afford the tickets and the accommodation. Shoot me now.

A generous heart is never lonely says John O’Donohue. In the excitement, in the energy of all of this, i had wondered too far from home. Theres a reason why at least one day a week for the last 4 years I give myself time to write, time to be and time not to give to others, me and a book and a journal, usually in a cafe. I can be home wherever I am generous to myself. I am home wherever this is and thats taken so so long to be. I am not my feelings, my thoughts, nor my responses to , nor what happened to me – they just need loving when they creep up.

Writing all this has been so super helpful. I am very much ok. I feel calm. It’s still raining. There is a lake to walk around and a city to see. Im smiling.

James.

Thank you for reading, if you would like to buy me a drink today, and feature in the future pieces you can do so here. Buy me a coffee (or smoothie)