Day 3
Awoke in: Hamburg
Went to bed in: Hamburg
Postcard: There is so much soccer on these trips that your memories are bound to be founded in the stadiums and bars where you watch the tournament unfold, as you associate any big moment with the location that you first absorbed the signature events.
But those aren’t the only two places life unfolds, of course, and, for some reason, my favorite memories always seem to come from spontaneous events. Which is ironic after all the planning that goes into leaving the country for more than a month.
I had just left the U.S. national team’s news conference Saturday afternoon and, having consumed some bratwurst with some of the other American reporters, was on my way back to my hotel to rest.
All day, the masses at the central train station had been peppered with Germans dressed in colorful ‘60s garb, coming off trains from all reaches of the country. Most had sunflowers pinned to their clothing or in their hair. So something was certainly amiss and I was too curious to ignore it.
After being shot down by a few locals that didn’t speak English, I ended up on a subway platform next to a woman wearing a coat that seemed to have been culled straight from one of those go-go dancing Austin Powers’ flashbacks.
I asked a simple question, something about all the flowers, and she gave a simple answer. There was an annual ‘60s-themed street parade taking place on the Reeperbahn, the main drag of the red-light district that doubles as the heart of the night life here in Hamburg.
But Bianca, a boutique manager who had been born in the old East Germany, added those five words that always seem to lead to an unplanned adventure — “I veel take you der.�
With 32 floats carrying floral prints, polyester suits and fake sideburns, the “Schlagermove� will be hard to beat as a top memory of this trip. One truck pulling a float even had its own massive pair of windshield-sized Aviator sunglasses, fashioned out of blue and white balloons.
Lager and broken glass filled the gutters as the festivities matched any celebration of the excesses of the era, the lone exception being the music. While my eyes told my lips to hum Hendrix or Joplin, my ears were flooded with that omnipresent accordion.
Bianca had five friends from outside Stuttgart who had sat on a train for more than five hours to join her for the weekend.
“This is the first time we’ve planned a trip like this,� said Sven Kammerer, 30, as his girlfriend danced around the group. “She’s been excited about this for a long time.�
I had only known the “Schlagermove� existed for a matter of minutes, but the same was true for me.
Dear Cup of Joe.....
I warn you..this is only the beginning....
Make sure you hit the love parade in July in Berlin..."Schlagermove" times 20!
P