Sleaze
Hamburg has hundreds of gay sex shops. Hundreds. Why? How can one town possibly need so many? Especially as many of the bars provide on-the-premises relief. Our hotel was directly across the road from Tom's Saloon. Virtually every city in the world with a major gay scene has a leather bar called Tom's, complete with Tom of Finland drawings of Aryan hunks with improbable appendages. The difference here is that this bar was actually the artist's favourite bar, and the drawings are originals. [And the appendages turned out - in our limited experience - to be not that improbable, but that's another story.]

Hamburg is a red-hankie-right-pocket kind of town. They are a very accommodating lot! From the saunas, backrooms, bedrooms and hotel rooms of Hamburg comes the unmistakable smell of Crisco - as though they are constantly whipping up another batch of pastry to feed any hungry [British] guests that might pop in.

Of course, Hamburg is famed for its straight sleaze, too. We first encountered the red light district off the Reeperbahn one afternoon, when the windows were occupied by bored middle-aged women. By night, the place is transformed, and we were solicited by loads of very pretty, well-scrubbed blondes. ["Er, no thanks." "Warum nicht??"]

It's all very efficient and very honest. The German men we encountered were refreshingly upfront and unembarrassed about what they wanted - a lesson to us hypocritical Brits.