weekend in hamburg tiny wanderer

A weekend (and a mini honeymoon) in Hamburg

I’ve got a confession to make.

Chris and I finally tied the knot in April and held the reception in August this year. I thought I’ll just mention it in passing just because someday, I intend to write about our wedding in Germany. But not today. 

 

ANYWAY

 

due to large wedding expenses (it was already a backpacker budget!) and preparation, we couldn’t travel as often as we did the years before. We didn’t take our usual 2-week summer vacation like most Germans would. And the traveller in me withered up and almost died. What, no travelling? How could you do this to me?!

So when it was finally over and done with (with only thank you cards to send out now), we heaved a sigh of relief. While all I wanted to do is to crawl onto the couch and watch Netflix for a 100 days straight, there was a gift of travel waiting for us.

 

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doing the weinmeile along the Saale-Unstrut

Walking and drinking on the the Weinmeile

…AND SOME OBSERVATIONS

I’m not entirely an outdoorsy person no matter how much Chris tries to turn me into one. My favourite pastime is curling up with a glass wine and a good book, not huffing and puffing away riding a bicycle against a mean slope. That’s more like up Chris’ alley or just about any Germans (in all stereotypical sense). I do admire the tenacity and faith of walkers of the Camino and Pacific Crest Trail, and how walking all the 800km of them would be an excellent way to not only experience nature but also to train your mind and body. But at this point of writing and in all honesty, I prefer reading about them than embarking the arduous journey.

 

In other words, I’m just your typical lazy city girl.

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Cafe Hopping Around Melbourne

I wake, reach out for the glass bottle that sits on the desk next to the bed and gulp down the crisp tap water hungrily. An alarming thought comes to mind and I grope around for my watch but then remember that it’s my day off. Who cares about the time when you don’t have to work. Then, I roll on my side to kiss the unmoving Mister A, admire his messy three days’ beard and still huddling underneath the duvet, try to forecast the weather for the day by staring at the heavy drapes. Judging from the harsh contrast of the dancing shadow of my little basil plant against the drab brown, I decide that it could be very well be sunny and windy.

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