A day with Denis
In the morning, Valeri drove me to Denis's apartment. Denis and I had been neigbors for a few summers our families spent in Estonia, but I had had no contact with him for the last 15 years. In the meantime, he had apparently gotten married and has come by a kid of two and a half. He greeted me with a big goofy grin at the door, giving an oafish charm to his otherwise imposingly large and a bit unkempt image. His wife, quite miniature by comparison, fretted around, apologizing for the look of the apartment, which was actually quite tidy. Both had apparently had a sleepless night because their child had decided that sleep was not a sufficiently enjoyable pastime.
After offloading the kid to the grandparents for the day, Denis took me on a tour of the city. Lena, his mother had warned me about the grave danger of letting Dennis loose on the town, apparently because of his tendency to drink heavily and engage in other activities not consistent with a healthy family. With me, however, Denis was well-mannered, and, despite consuming a steady stream of beer throughout the day, remained relatively sober.
He told me many very interesting stories of his life in Germany, which I am unfortunately not at liberty to retell. I can, however, talk about our little tour of the city. Hamburg, despite being about 60km inland is one of Europe's largest ports, and has its roots as an independent free trade city, which retains some independence within Germany to this day. Many of Hamburg's historical sites relate to its massive port. We took a stroll around the port boardwalk and even took a ferry down the Elbe, which was included in the price of my daily public transit pass.
In the evening we ventured over to the Reeperbahn, the city's impressive red-light district, rivaled only by Amsterdam's (coincidentally, my next destination). Of old, the area was frequented by sailors, but on this Saturday night it was packed with tourists and young locals, attracted by the glittering streets and numerous trendy nightspots. Hundreds of prostitutes and pimps were out in full force, welcoming everyone to their neighborhood. It was clear that they had the run of the place, with police conspicuously absent, and emerging from the police station only once, when a team of meatheads chased down an unlucky consumer of sexual favors right to their doorstep.
One street was blocked off-limits to female pedestrians, and was lined with red windows, in which dozens of bikini-clad women beckoned the men to come inside, to a bed behind a curtain, for a fee of 40 or 50 EUR. The men wandered through the street in droves, some studying the sight with admirable academic dedication, but most giving each girl only a quick glance, as though they were in search of someone specific and simply needed to look into every red window to assure themselves she was not there. The more attractive women were rewarded by no more than a few milliseconds of extra attention, an embarassed smile, and a furtive second glance.
Denis and I meandered our way through the blocks of sex stores, adult theatres, casinos, bars and nightclubs, sipping on bottles of rum and Coke. We went inside one of the clubs and danced until 3 am. The club and music were rather typical by US standards, and the only thing reminding me that I was in Europe was the fact that most of the men here could actually dance.
After offloading the kid to the grandparents for the day, Denis took me on a tour of the city. Lena, his mother had warned me about the grave danger of letting Dennis loose on the town, apparently because of his tendency to drink heavily and engage in other activities not consistent with a healthy family. With me, however, Denis was well-mannered, and, despite consuming a steady stream of beer throughout the day, remained relatively sober.
He told me many very interesting stories of his life in Germany, which I am unfortunately not at liberty to retell. I can, however, talk about our little tour of the city. Hamburg, despite being about 60km inland is one of Europe's largest ports, and has its roots as an independent free trade city, which retains some independence within Germany to this day. Many of Hamburg's historical sites relate to its massive port. We took a stroll around the port boardwalk and even took a ferry down the Elbe, which was included in the price of my daily public transit pass.
In the evening we ventured over to the Reeperbahn, the city's impressive red-light district, rivaled only by Amsterdam's (coincidentally, my next destination). Of old, the area was frequented by sailors, but on this Saturday night it was packed with tourists and young locals, attracted by the glittering streets and numerous trendy nightspots. Hundreds of prostitutes and pimps were out in full force, welcoming everyone to their neighborhood. It was clear that they had the run of the place, with police conspicuously absent, and emerging from the police station only once, when a team of meatheads chased down an unlucky consumer of sexual favors right to their doorstep.
One street was blocked off-limits to female pedestrians, and was lined with red windows, in which dozens of bikini-clad women beckoned the men to come inside, to a bed behind a curtain, for a fee of 40 or 50 EUR. The men wandered through the street in droves, some studying the sight with admirable academic dedication, but most giving each girl only a quick glance, as though they were in search of someone specific and simply needed to look into every red window to assure themselves she was not there. The more attractive women were rewarded by no more than a few milliseconds of extra attention, an embarassed smile, and a furtive second glance.
Denis and I meandered our way through the blocks of sex stores, adult theatres, casinos, bars and nightclubs, sipping on bottles of rum and Coke. We went inside one of the clubs and danced until 3 am. The club and music were rather typical by US standards, and the only thing reminding me that I was in Europe was the fact that most of the men here could actually dance.
posted by Dmitri Evseev at 9:50 PM
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