This trip to Hamburg, like how most of my life has been like lately, was a spontaneous one. I was mainly there to see Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road farewell tour. Hamburg somehow still had a few seats left in the cheaper areas and I was lucky enough to snatch one last minute.
Elton John himself was fantastic. If you look at the tour schedule, he’s doing perhaps around seven shows in Germany alone in a short timeframe, but he still sounded as good as ever. The band really elevated the songs, and the Rocket Man outro was out of this world. I definitely shed some tears throughout the 2.5-hour show. When he ended the show with Goodbye Yellow Brick Road and waved to the audience, it truly felt like the end of an era.
This was the first solo trip that I’ve had since Penang last year and I stayed at a shared dorm in a hostel, which I haven’t really done in years. I was feeling a tad nervous because I wasn’t sure how I would feel about sharing a room with strangers anymore, but I was lucky because my roommates were alright and quite respectful. I stayed in the same group with another female solo traveler, and a group of young men who were seemingly there for the football match just across the venue where Elton John played. They had to leave early but I could tell they tried their best to keep quiet which I appreciated. And before I knew it, I already settled into my old hostel routine, feeling like I was 22 again, traipsing from one hostel to another throughout Scotland during my first solo trip ever.
The next day Hamburg was overcast, so I shelved the idea to sketch outside and decided to go to Kunsthalle instead. But before that, I dropped by Blanco coffee and got myself a cup of flat white. I spent the next half an hour writing in my journal and reading Mariana Enríquez’s Our Share of Night.
A lady was sitting next to me and she asked me if I live in Hamburg. That was the start of a conversation that became the highlight of my trip.
I told her that I grew up in Indonesia, moved to Singapore, and recently moved to Berlin for my job. When she heard about Singapore, her eyes perked up. “Oh, I love Singapore! I lived there for three years. I’ve lived in nine different countries.”
“What!? That is amazing!” I said. I couldn’t hide my excitement. We talked about the things we love about Singapore: for her, it’s the efficiency of Changi Airport. For me, it’s that, plus the ubiquitous fresh juice vending machine. Both of us fresh from the process of moving from one country to another, we talked about the logistic pains of moving between countries and her favorite country out of all the ones she’s lived in. “If my next job took me back to Singapore, I’d go back in a heartbeat,” she said.
“I’m 58 years old and people keep asking me, when are you going to put down your roots? And honestly—I don’t know!” she erupted into laughter, and I followed suit.
I never thought that this question would come back to haunt me again in one morning in Hamburg. This question would come up in the most random moments: when my friends and I were hanging out in a coffee shop in Singapore, talking about retirement plans (“I don’t know” was also my answer) or when I was in my bedroom, reading through Reddit threads about choosing between German private or public health insurance. But this time, I also found solace in knowing that someone out there, no matter how much they have seen the world and how many experiences they have, is still grappling with the same question. And it’s a relief to know that “I don’t know” is probably an acceptable answer, after all.
We agreed to keep in touch and before she left, she gave me one last tip. “Today is the anniversary of the Hamburg port,” she said, something that I wasn’t aware of before she told me. “Take the U-bahn to Landungsbrücken if you still have time to see all the festivities.”
The day after I got back from Hamburg, I had a catch up call with a friend in Singapore. I was helping her out with her Europe trip itinerary and we ended up talking about traveling styles, which made me reflect on how my traveling style has changed over the years. Up until recently I had always stuck to my itinerary and I mostly kept to myself. But as time went by, I found myself to be more flexible to plans, and some of my favorite traveling memories end up being the conversations with people that I don’t have pictures of. I need to write them down—which is what I’m doing right now—so I won’t forget.
I was on my own again for the rest of the day. My next stop after a short stop in Badshah Restaurant was the Hamburger Kunsthalle (Hamburger Kunsthalle, Hamburg), which is considered one of the biggest art museums in Germany. The collection covers seven centuries of European art, and is divided into four main galleries: the Gallery of Old Masters, the Gallery of 19th-century Art, the Gallery of Classical Modernism, and the Gallery of Contemporary Art.
I did a quick tour around all the four galleries, but found myself particularly drawn to Caspar David Friedrich’s works. I didn’t know much about him before, and as much as I love the aesthetic of landscape paintings, they usually don’t evoke many emotions from me. Friedrich’s works had a different effect on me, and I ended up spending the longest time in the room showcasing his works, moving from one painting to another, studying the details. Sadly one of his most well-known works, “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog”, was on loan somewhere else so it was not on display when I was there.
“I want to learn oil painting now,” I texted my mom.
My bus would leave at 5 so I rushed my way to Landungsbrücken. There were live music, street food, and maritime shows showcasing hundreds of vessels from all over the world.
