A small update for a small stopover. Any sane person probably would have just flown directly to Berlin and spent an extra day there. Instead, my friend and I flew to Hamburg for a single night.

I had two reasons. First, and more seriously, I’m playing in a larp this upcoming weekend, and had most of the costume pieces sent ahead to a friend who happens to live on the outskirts of Berlin. It’s just far enough off the beaten path that it’s not much more difficult just to drive down from Hamburg as to catch a train out from Berlin.

Second, and much more fully ridiculous, is that everyone in my immediate family visited Hamburg on a cruise I wasn’t on, and has been unable to stop talking about Miniatur Wunderland ever since. And so did I take advantage of the first reasonable excuse to go see it for myself? Of course I did.

If you don’t know, Miniatur Wunderland is billed as “the world’s largest model train.” It’s spread over 7,000 square meters, and incorporates trains, cars, boats, and aircraft. The model railway thing is a bit of a misnomer; what’s really selling it are the intricate scenes, the feeling of a world of hidden secrets waiting for you to explore and discover.

We budgeted two hours. We should have budgeted four. I suppose your appreciation for it is going to depend on your tolerance for schoolchildren¹ and the sort of whimsy that installs an Area 51 bunker complete with aliens under the Las Vegas diorama. But honestly, I was charmed. I could watch a tiny Flying Dutchman circle a couple models of icebergs for ages.

I feel a little bad about only seeing a tiny² sliver of Hamburg.³ But I guess I’ll just need to come back to fix that.

Next: Leśna to Berlin
Prev: Dublin (DUB) to Hamburg (HAM)

Footnotes

¹ There were at least five school groups there while we were, ranging from ages five up to thirteen or so.

² No pun intended.

³ Owing to a total coincidence — and I had no idea this was the case when I booked it — our hotel was on the Reeperbahn. Now that’s a storied thoroughfare, even if all the stories are about how drunk someone got and ended up contracting the clap.

If I ever make it back, I think I’d opt for a less centrally located hotel in a less grotty part of the city. But hey, it’s history.