The Daily IIJ

Here’s an adventure trail on my first day in Hamburg.

But I’ll give you the moral of the story right at the start– “Don’t freak out when your lost in Hamburg. Enjoy the lush scenery instead , if  your with people who have a good sense of geography and more importantly, humour”

The first day at the IIJ Summer Academy worked by the scrip, well,at least the first half.

It started off with breakfast, an introduction of the programme, participants, lunch and then a guided bus tour through Hamburg.

But a bus ride can’t help in appreciating the picture postcard lanes, the opulence of the houses and the unadulterated gusts of air, characteristic of Hamburg.

So, we decided to walk back to Elsa Brandstrom-Haus from Blankenese, to get a better view of the area’s lush countryside. We initially took these long flight of steps that leads one to the beach side.

When you travel in a group of 23, invariably you get split up into groups of two, three and four or more. So, I started walking back with my new friend from Zimbabwe, Reagan. Initially, I pulled his legs royally about being a billionaire(  In Zimbabwe, plagued with a  struggling economy, high inflation and a near-worthless currency  a, billions of Zimbabwe dollars make a Euro).

The conversation gradually shifted to more serious issues like the press freedom in Zimbabwe, the scarcity in essential commodoties and the strangle-hold that Mugabe has on the country. Predictably, the scenic coast of Hamburg and the others in the group passed us by, with all the talk on inflation and human rights.

Thankfully, there were four other participants- Nana(Ghana), Angela(Tanzania), George(Benin) and Charles (Kenya), who seemed totally relaxed and cool as they swaggered behind us.

I thought we could catch up with the rest if we walked fast enough. But as luck would have it, Reagan bumped into a lady, with Zimbabwean origins. She insisted on a detailed account on the state of her nation amid emotional hugs thrown in for good measure, as we waited for him with growing impatience.(at least I was feeling jittery because we were far behind the seminar assistant and did not have a group mobile).

Reagan finally joined us. But no one seemed to realise that the six of us were far far behind the rest in a counrty where we were two days old and did not speak the local langauge. Reagan said, ‘Oh, these woods are just like home.” And Angela- “Oh, we get lost in Africa all the time in the forest, but we find our way out. Don’t worry.”

Well, we walked and walked- past the steps that ended abruptly, down a muddy road where there were some joggers at least and finally came to a point where the path bifurcated to two roads— we had no clue as to which one we should take. I could sympathise with Robert Frost’ s poem “The Road not Taken”, since we were in a somewhat similar dilemma.

In this case, however, my pleas to take the the road with more footprints went unheeded as Nana confidently took the road that was relatively more deserted. So, we followed him, since he seemed so confident about his “African forest trekking intuition.”

Long strides later, I was overjoyed to see a sign that read “Elsa Brandstrom-Haus”. Almost felt like coming back to “home sweet home.”  As the saying goes, All’s well that ends well.

I woulnd’ t mind getting lost in the widerness again, provided I have intuitive colleagues for company. Interested, anyone ?

Cheers

Chandra