Just before I start to recount any story about Hamburg, there is a pause, a smile, as I am momentarily lost in my own reminiscence. We were destined for love, Hamburg and I. Long before I ever stepped foot off the train, I knew she would be the girl for me. I thought of Hamburg as a seedy tart, a wild and sinful city, full of reckless abandon. Sex and drugs and rock and roll! Debauchery at its finest, at its most pure, and I was right (Danke Gott). But I was to learn she was so much more. So very, very much more. Hamburg isn’t a tart…she’s a lady.