Rain, rain . . . you know what to do

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Things have been somewhat spoiled by consistenly cloudy skies in Luxembourg, Amsterdam, Hamburg, and now Copenhagen. It just won't brighten up, no matter where I go. And the forecast, at least for Copenhagen, suggests I won't be free of it any time soon.

Let's start with Luxembourg shall we. It was kind of a last minute decision to go there. After a long winded day at the Eiffel Tower celebrating Bastille Day with the French I had run out of accomodation in Paris but still had a day to kill before I was skeduled to be in Amsterdam. So, Luxembourg it was. I checked in to a HI Hostel, which was fresh and comfy, but booooring, so I spent most of the day on my feet. Took in the local History Museum, which was awesome. The building was built right into the cliff walls of the city valley; almost more of a quarry, really. Later I even played a round of mini golf at the bottom of the valley and then made my way back up through the Casemates, a series of rock caves carved as military bunkers in the 17th century by the Spanish. Also of note, they housed thousands of refuges during WWII.

Then, it started to rain.

And it hasn't really stopped. I hopped the train to Amsterdam in the morning and arrived to a downpour. Luckily my hostel was only a two minute walk from the station, but my first impression of Amsterdam, besides the immediate smell of reefer, was wet. Too wet to really appreciate it. I did manage to get some nice sun on my third day there, so its true beauty did finally expose itself to me.

I spent my first night at the Flying Pig Downtown Hostel before moving on to their beach location in Noordwijk a half hour away. That first day I wasn't really in an aesthetic mood, so I headed straight for the Red Light District to take a gander. Where were the hookers? Where, where? Such excitement I had. At first I couldn't find them, but then . . . I heard a knock on a window. The last time I heard that I got robbed. This time I turned and found a girl, clad in bikini ensemble, beckoning me towards her. I just started laughing. You honestly can't help it. They are especially agressive towards a lone man walking aimlessly with a backpack. Laughing, laughing, I couldn't stop. All around me, sex shops, sex theatres, sex profiteers. It was just so . . . what's a more shallow word for 'surreal?'

Anyway, I ended up going back there at night with a couple of Swedish guys I met at the hostel. It is much more frantic and exciting at night, and the women get decidely more attractive. Needless to say, I was the only one who made it out alive, if you know what I mean. I do have limits to my amusement.

The next day I headed to the beach. Ari, their driver, gave me a lift up and filled me in on the details of his thesis about the death of suburbia, whilst smoking hash. He was a character, that one.

I found it a bit hard to really talk to people in Amsterdam. There's just something about its laid back culture, its, how shall I say, benumbed persona, that I didn't feel I fit in with. If you are gonna have a prolongued conversation with someone there, expect it to be shallow, period.

I used the rain as an excuse to go see Harry Potter at a small theatre in Noordwijk (they have intermissions in movies there. Who knew?), and when it finally cleared the next day I went to the beach for just long enough to get a nice sunburn. Then it started to rain again.

After four nights in the Amsterdam area I headed to Hamburg. And suddenly I felt happy. Why? Why does Germany have such an affect on me? Couldn't tell you. But the same thing happened last time. The minute I cross into it, I feel calm, relaxed, content. One might call that ironic given that Germans are notorious for being rather uptight, not to mention they have a history that is anything but relaxing, but it goes deeper than that. It's not just because I love their history so much, there is an emotional aspect to it. It's as if I'm just compatible with the place.

Hamburg is incredible. Coulda, and woulda, spent more time there, but given this is high season and all, I've had to stick pretty tightly to my skedule. Thus, I arrived in Copenhagen this evening. My train was out of seats, so I ended up spending most of the trip on the floor in a gangway. Wasn't too bad. Talked with a pair of very sweet Swedish girls, ones who knew history well. Jackpot. I also experienced for the first time a train driving right onto a ferry. Yeah, they can do that. Ferry ride was about 45 minutes. Just enough time for me to get a bit seasick.

Oh, and it's raining.

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