Golden Hour in Hamburg

By DAVID GRINSFELDER | Contributing Writer

Sometimes, romance strikes when you least expect it.

One minute you’re scrolling through the endless dating app buffet, watching your hands wander from one profile to the next. And then, all of a sudden, a photo stops you in your tracks.

Maybe it’s the brilliant smile. Or perhaps it’s the mythical late afternoon lighting that captivates the eyes and soul on the screen.

Whatever the case, it was a sunny Tuesday morning in Hamburg, Germany, when I saw her. Having just arrived in the city for an extended two-week business trip, I didn’t know a soul in the city. Although I would normally prefer to meet people organically in the wild, I knew that two weeks would fly by, so I opted to expedite things by downloading Hinge.

After a few minutes spent setting up a profile, I stopped aimlessly swiping left and snapped to attention on her profile. It was like a part of me knew that nobody else would compare. I’d found the one, even if it was only for the next two weeks that I was scheduled to stay in Hamburg.

If you are a reader over the age of 40, this whole scenario might sound confusing, implausible and somewhat comical. Can you really know that you’ll connect with someone just by looking at a single photo of them on a dating app?

I had my doubts. After all, I’d sensed a tantalizing chemistry on Hinge a few times before, only to find out that in person, our connection barely lasted past the appetizers.

Using dating apps is a statistical gamble. You’re playing the odds—and they’re not great.

Does it dramatically expand your “reach?” Yes. Does it make for a fun afternoon with a few friends, reviewing the people who have “liked” you and wondering what a first date at a cute wine bar might be like with them? Absolutely.

But I’ve realized that it’s basically impossible to try and judge a book by its cover. Getting a sense of a person’s essence through six photos and a few clever prompts is like asking someone to describe the sights and sounds of Paris without ever having been there.

Whatever my reservations (or perhaps because of them), I decided to reach out to this stranger. In German (with a little help from Google Translate), I suggested over text that she and I meet for pizza and a drink in a busy area on the shore of the Alster, a lake popular with locals and tourists alike. She agreed, and I set off for Zara to pick up a decent outfit before our date later that evening.

Forty-seven Euros and a new pair of pants later, I strolled into Casa Nova Bistrorante, my eyes scanning for the woman resembling my date. Would she look like her photos? Would she even show up? All these questions raced through my mind until my eyes landed on a beautiful, red sundress at the counter.

As I strolled up beside her and introduced myself, she flashed a perfect smile that could earn a living in Crest toothpaste commercials. And when we finally sat down on a park bench overlooking the Alster, I barely had a moment to eat the pizza we’d ordered. The conversation flowed as fast as my limited German could carry it.

She was so engaging and had such a zest for life that I didn’t want to mess with our obvious chemistry by stuffing my mouth full of food. With the sun setting over the chestnut trees and illuminating her in golden light, I quietly took a mental picture to capture the moment.

That evening by the Alster would turn into a whirlwind, two-week adventure (during which my German would improve dramatically). Instead of pacing ourselves to avoid the inevitable sadness that would come with my departure, we saw each other almost every day.

Her German proclivity for long walks and bike rides boded well for my slightly more American predisposition to spontaneity. A sunset run around the Alster (her suggestion) ended with a romantic jump into the lake itself (my suggestion).

We both knew it was a fleeting moment in time. But in a decision that would make Shakespeare proud, we decided it was better to experience something worth losing, than to never experience it at all.

Will we ever see each other again? I hope so. Part of the beauty of life, however, is its serendipity.

When I arrived in Hamburg, I had no expectation of charging headlong into a fortnight fling. But by keeping an open mind about dating apps and being just adventurous enough to take on the language barrier, I stumbled into something wonderful.

David Grinsfelder is a graduate of Palisades Charter High School (2015) and UC Berkeley (2019). He currently lives in New York and is writing a series of travel stories for the Palisadian-Post. The Grinsfelders have been Highlands residents since 1989.