Boutique 056 - HAMBURG CENTRAL
Kirchenallee 56
20099 Hamburg
+49 (0) 40 244 545
boutique056@centro-hotels.de
www.centro-hotels.de
So there I was, cold, alone, dreadfully tired, utterly abandoned by relatives and train station personnel alike, a regular Paddington DB in Hamburg Hauptbahnhof, pulling my suitcase behind me dejectedly, and feeling that life wasn't what it was cracked up to be.
I waited a little while outside the train station, hoping against hope that a relative would loom into sight to save me, but, to quote my grandmother, all I got was 'aan goldenes Nixelsche und aan silbernes Wardeawhilesche', and there is no way I am going to try to translate that.
Finally I dried the tears from my buttonholes (another colloquialism), collected what was left of my wits, and started my sad round of Hamburg hotels near the train station. They were all expensive, with unsympathetic staff, and united in their refusal to let me borrow their telephone.
At long last I entered the Boutique 056, and my fortunes immediately improved immeasurably!
For the help desk was not staffed by one of the arrogant natives, but by a foreign looking person, who took pity on me and solved all my problems. He had a reasonably priced room on offer, which turned out to be clean and comfortable and in every way satisfactory. He directed me to an internet cafe just around the corner - thanks for nothing, lying Hauptbahnhof trolls! - and later took a telephone call from my relatives.
Thus safely installed, I tried to e-mail my relatives. Only to get a message from my internet provider, to the effect that I was logging in from an unusual location and needed to verify my existence, preferably with a telephone message to my mobile - which was dead.
Spitting blood, bile, and obscenities, I finally remembered the Facebook message system, and sent a message to my sister.
Then I went to bed, without dinner and in a foul, world-weary, completely fed-up mood.
The next day I managed to get to my relatives, after more adventures.
'Nuff said. I write this post with the sole intention of recommending and singing the praises of Boutique 056, the only healthy square inch in the carbuncled visage of the Hauptbahnhof areal.
I have no idea who the man was who saved me in my hour of need, but I am writing to the company to commend him.
After all that aggravation I did manage to have some good times with my family, especially when we visited the Uebersee-club, where I met another man deserving of praise. And yes, I did take pictures!
