A schlepp and a half to a wedding in Hamburg, one which some might take in their stride. Me, I’d rather not too often, thank you very much. Too many early mornings

It was off to Germany last Wednesday, for my youngest nephew’s wedding, and here are a few of the piccies I took. The journey was a tad tortuous: after waking at 1.30am and not sleeping any more till I got up, it was off to Newquay – ‘Cornwall’ Airport’ and I don’t know why I’m sneering so forgive me please, Cornwall, but it is tiny, tiny, tiny – for a flight to Manchester – bigger by a factor of about 1,000 if not more – then a three-hour wait, before catching a plane to Amsterdam in The Netherlands – bigger by a factor of about 10,000 if not more.

Then after queueing for well over an hour to get through passport control – thanks, Brexit – caught a train for a three and a half hour journey to the Dutch-German border where my sister lives. Arrived at just for 11pm knackered (a good old British expression which intends to convey ‘totally fucked’).

At least I got a day off travelling, except that from the Dutch border we were due in Hamburg for 8.3oam so it was up at 5.30am and yet again I hardly slept. What is it with me and travelling. Following the register office ceremony, I slipped off as soon as I decently could from a small gathering for a glass or ten of Sekt in my nephew’s flat to get to a bed as soon as possible, if not sooner.

The wedding itself was the following afternoon at 2am, though one of those new non-religious ceremonies, followed by more Sekt before we all took off by ferry – Hamburg is, I’m sure you know a port, so ships, boats and ferries are a part of daily life – for the wedding feast. Pretty knackered by this time, I like my Sekt, but at least I had only one glass of wine that night.

As luck would have it, the venue was just a five-minute walk where I and my other nephew and nieces were staying with their families, so I was back in bed by 8.30pm in time for the Ireland v Scotland game.

Slept rather better that night, but it was another early start, up at 6.15am to catch a ferry ride to the nearest S-Bahn station to get to Hamburg Airport, not quite as big but still about 1,000 bigger than Newquay.

From Hamburg it was off to Dublin, got there by 11am, then another five-hour wait for the last leg back to Newquay. Home by 5.30pm, and a good night’s sleep. A hell of a schlepp altogether and not one I want to repeat for some time. Mind, my son (based in Bolivia) is knocking around the Middle East at the moment, but then he is bloody 49 years younger than me.

Oh, and a few photos, the last one taken on Sunday morning while I was waiting for my ferry to town.

Pip, pip.

PS The seven little ones, I suppose they might be called my grand-nephews and grand-nieces (though, frankly, I am not really in the picture) had the time of their lives, running riot everywhere, as children should always do. The oldest is five and the youngest two just two.