Hamburg-ers.

After a short yet fruitful trip to the painfully nearby IKEA in the morning (hello new colander), we set off on a bus to Hamburg Centrum to meet our lovely friend Dennis, a Munich-born, sometimes lederhosen-wearing Hamburg local. Dennis quickly advised Colin that Hamburg was not a great place to get a hamburger (luckily Colin had prepared himself by consuming two before arrival), so we jumped on the U-Bahn to a great and ridiculously cheap fish restaurant in a squatter neighbourhood. After a tasty meal we headed through St Pauli, which apparently has the coolest football team ever, with lots of hipster and squatter supporters, and players that go out drinking with them after matches in the nearby party strip. Unfortunately there were no games on so we walked down to the the harbour and hopped on a ferry over to the man made beach for a couple of drinks in the autumnal sun. When that elusive sun started to dwindle, we finished up the day over at bar that Dennis’ friends work in, drinking Cuba Libres’s  and some crazy Swedish liquers till it was time to get on the train home. Night Hamburg. Dennis, see you in Morocco and thanks for the tour!

Hamburg squats

Dennis and I, overexposed at the beach (again)

This one's for you, Dan Chin.

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