Thurs afternoon, I finally got Lauryn on the train to Hamburg. Birgit and I went to the East Train Station to check in the lost and found for the lost jacket. Turns out they don't actually have such a department here anymore - the main department is now at the Shcoenefeld Airport. The man at the service desk with the heavy Berlin accent made several phone calls but no luck. I put Birgit's contact information on the form and we headed back to the hotel to pack.
I had had some problems with the part of the pack nearest the exhaust overheating, once melting most of my supply of IBuprofin tablets. So I tied things differently this time, and had the pack higher up over the exhaust then ever before.
I said bye to Birgit and headed out to find the A111. Berlin has gotten crowded. There are now permanent traffic jams (Stau) in many places, most notably around the Grosser Stern with the famous Victory Statue and Potsdamer Place. Small 2-cycle motorcycles are common and mopeds (Motorrollers) are like insects buzzing in and around the traffic everywhere. These are just ordinary citizens, mostly young, who are taking a cheap and practical alternative to autos and public transit. Frequently, their only nod to motorcycle attire is the required helmet while their purchases dangle in plastic sacks from their hands. But they drive like matter-of-fact daredevils.
I can barely keep up with the scooters as I work my way through traffic out of town. Warning: yes, you can split lanes in Berlin, but be advised that a) the cars are also doing whatever they can to get through, and b) the lanes are narrow. I bumped bags and mirrors several times. The good news is that where Oranienburg Str. hits Friedrich Str., a third street starts up: Chaussee Str., which, turning into Mueller Str., goes more or less right out to the 111, avoiding major traffic tieups. Nevertheless, it's a long way to the open road.
Running at 6Krpm on the Autobahn drastically reduces gas mileage. Experimenting, I've found that even dropping down to 5.5Krpm improves mileage significantly, but today I don't care. There is a storm threatening and it almost caught up to me in traffic, but now I'm out running it, and the tailwind is making 6+Krpm effortless. It's always great to see the silver of the underside of leaves of trees along the road being blown in your direction.
I've got a good chance of actually beating the train, even though it's a fast ICE and I've delayed for an hour looking for the jacket Lauryn lost. I have to pull into a gas station after about an hour though. As I stop and get off the bike, some people start yelling at me and pointing. I see that there is a small flame starting on the exhaust side of my pack. No problem, I'll just pat it out with my gloves.
No dice. Suddenly, there are lots of flames, unresponsive to smothering, and my gloves are melting. So I loosen the straps and pull the bag off the bike. I had pulled around facing into the wind and so thank goodness the wind is blowing the flames away from the bike and pump. But the wind is fanning the flames.
There is now a substantial fire. I am tearing into the pack and stamping it out with my boots. Another driver has come over to help do the same and a service station attendant has brought a bucket of water to help. Why are there no fire extinguishers around gas pumps?
So we get it down to scattered pieces of flaming paper, mostly maps. It turns out that I have lost exactly the maps I didn't like: my old and trusty but hard-to-read Kummberly-Clark map of the Alps and the BMW rally untrustworthy tour guides, as well as the touring map of Austria I had purchased, which actually proved to be of little value. What was important to save were the pictures.
The attendant wants to throw water on everything. He other drivers stops him from doing so on the pictures and I get them away and put out the fires on them. In the wind, I quickly extract film an pictures from burning envelops and get everything off to the side of the smoldering bits. Meanwhile, the attendant has taken a big wad of burning stuff and stuck it in a bucket, and shows it too me quickly before he dumps it in the trash.
What he has are all my BMW rally gifts, both the give-aways and what I bought. All the t-shirts and caps and pins are gone. Perhaps I could have salvaged the pins, but I don't have time because I am still going through and salvaging other stuff. Rik's gloves are ok, with just a slight melting of the covering package. My favorite maps are ok but slightly charred in places. My big silver cup is too hot to touch and slightly discolored at the base. The 2nd helmet has melted plastic and burned paper stuck to it. I make sure nothing else is smoldering and then start to clean up the mess.
I notice something odd in the debris. It looks like the end of my tire pressure gauge. Looking at it more closely, I see that it is the metal part of a cigarette lighter. Duh. They finally worked their way to the end of the pack near the exhaust and exploded, hence the sudden big but localized fire.
The turn signal is melted but still works. The tailight is only slightly melted but the license plate is badly burned. The left bag is functional but has lots of melted plastic on it. The nice Globetrotter Ausrüstung straps that Rik had loaned me are burned in two. I get my knife and cut off the melted pieces, and tie them back into reusable straps and pack up.
Well, I am really behind schedule now. I tie up the burnt bag with the straps and take off after a rest. The rain has almost caught up with me but I out run it again, streaking Northwest over the flat countryside. I'm now near the northern coast and lots of places to explore. Maybe some other time. It's starting to actually get cold and I stop and put on my electric jacket. I've used it a lot this trip in the mountains and now on a cold summer day in the North country. Rik's socket/plug is working great.
I have a spot of difficulty finding the right exit into the city center where the main train station always is. The exit signs say things like "HH Zentrum". I don't want "HH" - where is the "Hamburg" city center. I eventually figure it out. Hamburg is one of several old Hansen cities and this is part of it's name. I go in and get gas because I just went on reserve. I've been going far and fast.
At the service station, there is another ST! Going into pay, I pass the rider and complement him on his very nice red ST in primo stock condition. When I come out, he's on his bike but has stopped next to mine to inspect it, and it's interesting condition in the rear. We exchange the usual ST observations and personal stuff, and then he volunteers to lead me to the train station. We have a nice ride, talking at the traffic lights, and then he shows me a cool place to park and then takes off.
Lauryn has been waiting for hours. The Hamburg train station is not as nasty as the Frankfurt one, but there are drug deals going down and bizarre unhappy people wandering about. She has already been propositioned once. Fortunately, she was a wrestler in high school and threatened to hurt him. But she has parked herself right next to the train service desk and I find her immediately. We get her bags out of storage and catch a taxi to the nearby cheap hotel in the red light district. There is a place to buy heroin legally nearby. This has the advantage, as a Dad, that she never wants to go out alone.
Brenner Hof
Steindamm 49
Hamburg, 20099
49 40 2808880
75 DM / person-night, + 20DM breakfast
I call Rik and he finds the store address on the Internet, and uses the web also to get me approximate instructions. Well, it is not easy. I have to find the way to the right main road, then go the right direction on the road (which I didn't and had to stop and ask a helpful Aral station manager to get it right) and then it turns out that the main road in the right direction peters out into an extremely long city street before you get to the other roads that eventually, after 2 hour, lead to the address.
It's the wrong address. Well, it does have the right name on the building. I walk in and the receptionist asks me if she can help me, always a bad sign. I say I would like to shop. She informs me this is the headquarters. If you click on the "Wir" on the website, you get this address and a picture of this building. Rik says he realized this shortly afterwards, but I had already left the hotel.
Apparently this is common for them and they have a set of directions printed up on how to get to the real store. Surely it would be easier for everyone if they would just modify the web site? And it takes me about another hour through city streets to find the store.
It is great. A 3-story REI-like shop with good equipment. I buy straps for Rik, me, and gifts. I also buy a nice big red waterproof bag, and get one for Rik too, because they only cost about 35DM each. And a standard helmet, not a Schuberth, fits in one.
Back to the hotel in about an hour and then on a walking tour. Ouch. But it's fun, and we also do a harbor tour in a boat. This is a great place and reminds me of Stockholm. Susi brings her 10-year-old daughter and we have a great time. One high point is walking under the Elbe river via a tunnel that was build in 1911. Cars, motorcycles, and pedestrians descend via elevators at each end. It will be great fun to bring my bike through here one day. As a pedestrian, you can walk slowly under the river and and admire the illustrated tiles with the sea motif. Most of the pictures are of sea animals, but one has an empty boot and a rat.
The tunnel leads to the Freihafen, a duty-free harbor. You walk through the custom gates and back to the river where there is a viewing place of the city that is really a nice place to relax and take in Hamburg. A plaque identifies all of the major buildings in sight.
That evening, we eat dinner on the deck of converted fireships after viewing the massive display of large well-lit photographs from GEO magazine. We also looked at the other half after dinner. This are simply amazing and one could spend several hours marveling at all of them. I was too tired and my leg hurt too much to do more than an hour, so I took my leave and the train and got back to the hotel not too late.
Part 11: The Way Home
