street walking and seedy hotels
Rachel knew that Hamburg was a busy seaport, but she had no idea how much the city was geared towards catering for the shore leave of seamen until she spent some time there. The first thing she noticed was the blatant prostitution on the main streets, and it sheeted home to her how fortunate she was to live in a country where women were not forced by circumstances to make a living selling their bodies on the street.
"Women of all ages and sizes and nationalities -- but mainly Eastern European -- lined the streets like sad statues, or strolled up and down their patch like chained dogs," says Rachel. "There was a veritable smorgasbord of female flesh for every male taste."
"The passing seamen on shore leave would look them up and down and if they liked what they saw they would stop and negotiate terms and -- depending upon their ability to afford the asking price for that particular bit of female flesh -- they would either move on to the next statue that appealed or move off with their hundred pounds of female flesh to some seedy hotel to relieve themselves."
And there were plenty of seedy hotels in Hamburg.
Rachel stayed in one. It was called a pension rather than a hotel, and was a rabbit warren full of rooms on several floors but as far as she could tell only the landlady Helga, and three dour Norwegian seamen were the only people staying there at the time she was.
Of course Rachel had seen prostitutes ply their trade in other cities, and of course it didn’t bother her.
"If people can earn more money selling their bodies than their brains then good for them, it's their business, nobody else’s," says Rachel, "but I had never seen such blatant and widespread prostitution on city streets before visiting Hamburg."
Actually, the existence of so many prostitutes on the streets worked in Rachel’s favor because she could walk the streets without any fear of being accosted. And walk she did. All over the place, savoring the sights, smells and noises of one of the busiest sea ports in the world.
When night fell Rachel retreated to Helga's pension for some company, but the little old lady and the Norwegian seamen were the early-to-bed types.
"By 10 p.m. they were snoring in their beds," says Rachel, "and without a television set or a radio to distract me I was forced to sit in my bleak little room reading train timetables."
The extra time did, however, come in handy for doing what every European traveler in the pre-Euro period needed to do on a regular basis. And that is: sort out the myriad of notes and coins one collects from border to border
By midnight Rachel was tired and took a shower in the cubicle in her room. The water sounded like thunder and she was afraid she would wake up everybody!
It was even worse when she wanted to use the lavatory later in the night. She had to tip-toe down the corridor, past the rooms where the dour Norwegians slept, and when she was finally seated on the throne she was so terrified of making a noise that she couldn't go at all!
Rachel had never stayed in such a quiet and bleak hotel in her life, and decided to leave the next day.
Breakfast was a 6 a.m. and the Norwegians greeted her cheery good morning with a serious nod. They didn't even talk to each other. Helga bustled around her guests, ensuring that everyone enjoyed the bountiful spread she laid before them, and when Rachel told her that she was leaving the little old woman was upset. Actually, there were tears in her eyes.
In her broken English - and Rachel’s broken German - Rachel learned that Helga had lived in Hamburg all of her life, and had survived the terrible bombing of the city by the allies during WWII. She had never traveled and was enthralled to learn where Rachel had been and where she was going.
The tears in Helga’s eyes, perhaps, were for a life lost, but looking at the dour Norwegians Rachel couldn't help feeling that the tears were on account of them.
Poor Helga just didn't want to left alone with nobody but the Nordic nodders for company!
"Women of all ages and sizes and nationalities -- but mainly Eastern European -- lined the streets like sad statues, or strolled up and down their patch like chained dogs," says Rachel. "There was a veritable smorgasbord of female flesh for every male taste."
"The passing seamen on shore leave would look them up and down and if they liked what they saw they would stop and negotiate terms and -- depending upon their ability to afford the asking price for that particular bit of female flesh -- they would either move on to the next statue that appealed or move off with their hundred pounds of female flesh to some seedy hotel to relieve themselves."
And there were plenty of seedy hotels in Hamburg.
Rachel stayed in one. It was called a pension rather than a hotel, and was a rabbit warren full of rooms on several floors but as far as she could tell only the landlady Helga, and three dour Norwegian seamen were the only people staying there at the time she was.
Of course Rachel had seen prostitutes ply their trade in other cities, and of course it didn’t bother her.
"If people can earn more money selling their bodies than their brains then good for them, it's their business, nobody else’s," says Rachel, "but I had never seen such blatant and widespread prostitution on city streets before visiting Hamburg."
Actually, the existence of so many prostitutes on the streets worked in Rachel’s favor because she could walk the streets without any fear of being accosted. And walk she did. All over the place, savoring the sights, smells and noises of one of the busiest sea ports in the world.
When night fell Rachel retreated to Helga's pension for some company, but the little old lady and the Norwegian seamen were the early-to-bed types.
"By 10 p.m. they were snoring in their beds," says Rachel, "and without a television set or a radio to distract me I was forced to sit in my bleak little room reading train timetables."
The extra time did, however, come in handy for doing what every European traveler in the pre-Euro period needed to do on a regular basis. And that is: sort out the myriad of notes and coins one collects from border to border
By midnight Rachel was tired and took a shower in the cubicle in her room. The water sounded like thunder and she was afraid she would wake up everybody!
It was even worse when she wanted to use the lavatory later in the night. She had to tip-toe down the corridor, past the rooms where the dour Norwegians slept, and when she was finally seated on the throne she was so terrified of making a noise that she couldn't go at all!
Rachel had never stayed in such a quiet and bleak hotel in her life, and decided to leave the next day.
Breakfast was a 6 a.m. and the Norwegians greeted her cheery good morning with a serious nod. They didn't even talk to each other. Helga bustled around her guests, ensuring that everyone enjoyed the bountiful spread she laid before them, and when Rachel told her that she was leaving the little old woman was upset. Actually, there were tears in her eyes.
In her broken English - and Rachel’s broken German - Rachel learned that Helga had lived in Hamburg all of her life, and had survived the terrible bombing of the city by the allies during WWII. She had never traveled and was enthralled to learn where Rachel had been and where she was going.
The tears in Helga’s eyes, perhaps, were for a life lost, but looking at the dour Norwegians Rachel couldn't help feeling that the tears were on account of them.
Poor Helga just didn't want to left alone with nobody but the Nordic nodders for company!
Labels: hamburg, prostitution, seedy hotels, selling bodies, street walking
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