The clouds at last parted and the strong northern sunshine now glistened from the blue Alster and the white-painted and red-brick buildings of Hamburg. The city bent itself around the river in unabashed prosperity. I watched through the grand picture windows of the top-floor spa of the Fontenay Hotel as the city and the river glowed in restored sunshine.
I swam the long indoor-outdoor pool from within to without, refreshing in the cool late-afternoon air, lounging during this break on a business trip (that’s right, at firm expense) all the while collecting Leading Hotels Leaders Club reward points — glowing like a winner at roulette. The day had been filled with business meetings, but the sauna and steam room had done their good work, and I was relaxed and agreeably hungry as I joined my old friend and fellow photographer Peter, a Hamburg local, for a seven-course, four-hour dinner at the hotel’s restaurant. Called Lakeside, it justifiably holds two Michelin stars.
The server poured a creamy brown sauce over my lamb filet, and I anticipated the upcoming gianduja dessert (built around a half-moon of hazelnut chocolate paste) as an expectant father would the birth of a child. When that too had come and been joyfully consumed, I explained to Peter that, just as today was my luxury interlude in Hamburg, which does opulence so well, tomorrow night was reserved for a note of raunch —something that Hamburg arguably does even better. So, there I stood, one night later, in St.
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