Phew. Made it.
This post is bought to you with the help of seven trains, one ferry and a short bike ride. And now a nice glass of wine at a bar in Hamburg.
My journey has been long but ok. I’ve been drafting a post about the joys of slow travel. I like a train and hate a plane so it’s either this way or Scottish tours. And much as I love the country, I do like to explore.
I started my journey with a ride uphill to Waverly and then train number one, south to Peterborough. No quick connection so no stress.
I broke my journey in Peterborough for some inner tubes (obviously if I didn’t have them disaster would strike. I always carry them and have only used them once.) and the shop keeper kindly pumped up my tires (I had my bike serviced at Evans. They didn’t check the tyre pressure. Obviously I didn’t either till I got to the station but I’m not paying me for a service.) I went on my merry way in crowded trains till Harwich when I got the ferry.
The ferry boarded late and set off late. As I like to stay on deck until we’ve left port (it’s now a superstitious tradition) that meant a late night for me. I did enjoy watching the freight board on the open deck - I feel my parking skills have improved just by observing the masterclass.
The next morning I woke up to the annoying tannoy and hot footed it to breakfast. Off the ferry and a ride into town for more trains. The ride was lovely and not as painful as I thought my unfit legs would find it.
I managed to get an earlier train out and a lovely couple returning from their first tour bought me a gratefully received coffee. They also did a bit of translating about bike organisation on the train which I was also very grateful for.
The early arrival in A...(yeh, I’ve forgotten) made that connection nice and simple. DB tickets tell you the platform in advance and although they warn you to check, I’ve not found them wrong yet. Approaching Osnabruck and I was beginning to get worried. The train was running a few minutes late (I was a lot more worried until I found my watch was fast) and this was a tight 15 minute connection - Ok by foot but by bike you’re often reliant on lifts. I dashed (as if, I managed to get my bags and bike off the train by throwing my bags out of the high high door and then going back for my bike then helping the lady who helped me) off to the lift. Up a level. Along the level. Down again to the platform with seconds to spare.
Arriving on the platform to find the train not there.
Delayed by some 50 minutes and all my stress had been for naught. I checked with someone else on the platform that I’d understood correctly and settled down to wait. In the end that last bit of the journey was very calm. Most passengers had got another delayed train so we could just relax rather than fight for bike space.
In Hamburg at last and I breathed a sigh of relief. I made it to the hotel. I thought about taking my bike to my room (they were very accommodating, was I here for the international triathlon? I did laugh.) but having seen the size of the lift decided to save what little upper body strength I had left and locked it in the luggage store instead.
I unpacked and repacked before showering and heading off to the supermarket for tomorrow’s picnic. On the way back to the hotel through the streets closed for tomorrow’s triathlon I decided to stop for a drink at a bar Mr H and I visited at last time we were here.
And that’s where you find me now. Glass of wine in hand overlooking the city streets psyching myself up for Summer tour 2019.
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