Here the story of why I didn't end up staying a night at the Hotel Alt-Hamburg:When I came back to Nuremberg again, having finished the job shooting The Duo in Hamburg, I started out planning my second stay in Hamburg at the end of August. I called up the Hotel Alt-Hamburg and reserved a single room for two nights. The receptionist wrote down my name and asked me again if I really intended to come. It was probably a result of her own experience that she did this. I gathered it might often happen in a place like this that young people who intended to party in Hamburg made a reservation and then just didn't show. I assured her that I would, though.
The night before, I called the hotel again to confirm my reservation. Everything was as planned. I told the lady that I would be arriving some time in the afternoon and she said that this was okay. The day after, I took the subway to the Reeperbahn and went to the Albers Platz. I took a turn into Querstraße, a side alley to the square, and entered the quite rustic and rundown place. Outside it still had a sign showing its prices in marks and offering a cheaper rate for teenagers, students and (believe it or not) sailors.
Inside, I saw the entrance to the tavern to my left and the reception was through an open doorframe to my right. An old woman was sitting behind the desk sipping on a coffee and reading the paper. When she saw me coming in, she suddenly had a look on her face as if she'd been struck by lightning, maybe wondering what I was doing here, I don't know. Above her upper lip, she had a small fluff, I noticed, which made her look a bit weird. The lady seemed sceptical somehow and her scepticism during the entire conversation didn't seem to vanish. I told her that I had reserved a single room for the night. She looked down on her chart that was invisible to me and replied with a blunt 'I don't think so', which left me a bit startled I have to say.
I told her that I had called twice to confirm the reservation and she said that she didn't have my name anywhere. I sighed and asked her if she at least had a spare room that I could book now. She told me that she still had one for the night. 'I take it', I replied. She then turned around and looked through the pigeonholes with the keys in them, as to see which room it was exactly. She took out a filled-in form, tore it up and handed me one to fill in. This made me a bit sceptical now. So I filled in the form and since she just looked at me and didn't say anything, I asked her when I needed to pay. 'Always in advance!' she said, so I got out a fifty from my wallet to pay the 22 euros. Again, the look, struck by lightning!
'I can't give you change for that. Don't you have it smaller?' I told her I didn't. Another moment of awkward silence, in which we were just staring at each other. I finally broke the silence. 'I tell you what, I was about to head to the theatre anyway. Is it okay, if I come back afterwards and give you the money then?'
'That is fine', the woman said. Finally, things appeared to be sorted. But then the look again! 'Can I get the keys and leave my stuff upstairs?' I asked, getting annoyed now. 'No, you can't 'cause you haven't paid yet.' F...ing hell, I mean, it was not like I was trying to have sex for free with a prostitute; I just wanted to leave my bag and backpack, so I wouldn't have to carry them around all the time. So, I got out of there and went to the theatre to see Die Seltsame Gräfin (The Odd Countess), an Edgar Wallace crime story, at the Imperial Theatre just down the road. The play managed to distract me and calm me down a bit.
Then, after the play, I even went to a kiosk to change my five euro bill into coins, so I could give her the exact amount of cash for the night. The Albers Platz was getting busier now and there were more people walking down its side alleys, the prostitutes guarding the place off like it was some kind of maximum security prison. As I entered the Alt-Hamburg again, a guy already on the verge of being completely drunk, exited. I took a right and was back at the recpetionist's desk. 'I have the money now.' I said, already getting out my wallet. But as I did so, the woman, without even looking up from her tabloid, answered: 'Now the room is gone.'
'What do you mean, it's gone?' I asked, a bit flabbergasted. 'Someone else took it.' she replied. She still didn't look up and continued reading her paper when I got out and left without another word...
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