Hamburg

 

The conversation with Ebeling wasn’t planned, nor was the encounter with the Baroque  interior inside a Lutheran church or finding a set of concert halls inside a Tsunami….but in Hamburg these things just seem to happen….

I met Ebeling outside Carl Feddersen’s Sea Shop, enjoying the rest of his cigarette.

“Just go in, I am coming in a minute. Otherwise just leave the money by the till…”

I hadn’t really planned to visit a maritime outfitter on my trip to Hamburg, but having recently seen a documentary about an (in)famous German actress, who used to working this shop (she was in fact the daughter of the founder), I had to take a look.

A bit of a time warp I thought…..

This place must have looked just the same some 30 or even some 50 years ago, may be with the exception of the credit card terminal.

And yet – what was on the hangers and on the shelves wasn’t outdated, it was just timeless.

The designs of some oilskins and waxed woollen jackets or of the Bretonic marinieres might even have been a century old, but they still looked stylish today.

“Just put something on and I will tell you, if it’s the right size and if it looks good or crab on you.” said Ebeling, who was now standing right behind me.

As it turned out, this statement of competence had some justification : after having worked as a model some decades ago, Ebeling had not only taken over the shop from his brother in law (the actress’ brother), quite a few of the items had also been designed by him and had been produced in small quantities  in hand selected workshops in the Netherlands, in London (!), in France and in Ireland, but certainly not in a sweatshop in the Far East.

However, I soon found out that the real attraction wasn’t the clothes, it was the man behind the counter.

An international competition sailor when not busy on the shop floor, Ebeling clearly was a man who liked straight talking and had clear opinions, with a lot of black and white and very few shades of grey. Add to this a lot of life experience, the avoidance of adjectives and the razor sharp German pronunciation that is so typical for people in the North.

“So, you live in the UK?  Well, here in Hamburg, we like the British. They lived from the sea – just like us! But I don’t like the Spanish….they are just talking too much!…By the way looks rubbish on you and it also isn’t the right size. Try something else…..”

I just had to laugh….but he was right – at least about the size…..

From just wanting to look around, I spent easily the best part of 20 minutes in this small shop, just talking or listening to the conversations Ebeling had with other customers, most of whom turned out to be re-offenders, having visited the shop some time many years ago.

What you bought here really seemed to last or at least the visit must have left a lasting impression.    

With some reluctance, I eventually managed to leave the shop and headed for my second impromptu point of call : the tower of the church of St.Michaelis, the “Michel” as locals are calling it. For hundreds of years it was the symbol of the city, watching over the harbour and welcoming home sailors, traders and travellers who had crossed the continents and the seven seas.

How surprised was I though, when I stepped into this historic building:

Expecting the plain, understated interior of a Nordic Lutheran House of God, I found myself surrounded by elaborate wood carvings, gold platted Corinthian columns, cushioned pews made of teak and an altar and a pulpit build with thick blocks of marble.

Baroque architecture like this I would have more expected in a place of worship in a Bavarian market town than in a city that was dominated by warehouses made of red bricks and a harbour featuring cranes and vessels made of timber and more recently of steel. Surely a testimony not only to the age of the building, but also to the commercial success of the Hanseatic trading tradition.

However, the centre of attention has now moved away from the “Michel” to a building of a very different kind, which is situated just a few hundred meters away, right next to the water and which every visitor to the city, regardless if arriving on land or on a ship, is obliged to see.

After been pulled into the bowels of an enormous wave with the help of one of Europe’s longest escalators, I find myself in the “Elphi”, the city’s truly spectacular new home of its philharmonic orchestra.

Not much teak or marble is found in this cathedral dedicated to the religion of sound . This structure made of steel, glass and concrete emanates its very unique elegance and style, that so easily has made it the new icon of the city.

Eventually I find myself standing, well protected from a northerly breeze by a new, smart looking and well fitting Irish wool jumper, on the balcony, enjoying the view of the harbour, of the tower of the “Michel” and of the city that embodies like no other in Germany the idea of travelling.