Fish Market

Apparently there is a tradition in Hamburg to stay out all night on Saturday and then go to the fish market (open only on Sundays) just as it opens. Originally, we were informed that they opened at 5, then around 4 AM we were informed that the fish market actually opened around 7. At this point, we figured we were pot committed, so we kept out dancing until 6:30 and SHUT DOWN the club. Sans red bull, I don’t know how I would have done it. Managed to dance with about ¼ of the club, and speak about 3 languages as well as a drunken 2 year old native (*Including English, sadly). After we flooded out of the club, a group of about a dozen of us sloshed down to the waterfront. The fish market turned out to be a glorified flea market—the same chatchkas I could have bought in China town in SF were sold on the Hamburg Harbor. At this point in the night/day, I was unwilling to select from the display cases of gamey, uncooked fish sandwiches. Overall, though, the night/day got an A+--great folks, hilarious antics, non-facebookable pictures, and dancing. On another note, this was all done in the Reeperbahn, the red light district of Hamburg. Fun fact: when Hamburg was at its height as a national harbor, 1/3 of the female population were prostitutes. Currently, it's legal and taxed (there is a box you can check on your tax return for pro). But best of all is how you can identify the bulk of prostitutes here—they wear fanny packs. That’s right—that same object of clothing that identifies overweight tourists in the states, when found in Germany, is perched inches away from sexual service.

Returning at 8 AM to the dormitory I’m staying at, I couldn’t help but harken to the days of undergrad, and realize that I was not nearly as nostalgic for them as you’d suspect.