Don’t stay at the Bridge Inn. Its weird and creepy hallways alternate between bright red and bright green. They seem to go on forever. There is no reception desk. It’s oddly connected to the Holiday Inn, which is 4 Stars and has gross, dirtycarpets. Holiday Inn also hosted a strange wall-scaling event that sounded like someone being murdered.
I have no idea why it has such a good rating on booking.com, except our friend in Split told us that booking.com erases negative reviews.
The best part about Bridge Inn is it is close to the bus stop and a low-key German diner, Alt Deutsch Kuch, where we ate our Hamburg hamburger.
There are many possible hamburger histories. The one I found the most interesting says Mongolians, called Tarters by the Russians, would pack meat under their saddles, which pounded it down as they conquered Eurasia. They would eat the meat raw, and this became steak tartare.
I had always heard it’s called a hamburger, because it originated in Hamburg, Germany. We ate our burgers the night of the big game, Germany vs. Argentina. That day we had bought our German fan flair, flag make-up, my flag headband and Ginger’s head band with troll hair. I coincidentally had a German flag color outfit; black pants, a yellow shirt and red sweater. The fact I had those clothes felt like a sign from the universe that we were supposed to be there.
So we went to dinner all decked out. The hamburger was absolutely delicious with a beer and a plate of fries. It was the best meal we had eaten in weeks. We ate at Alt Deutsch Kuch three more times. I honestly think the only other time we ate out was when we got lost and in desperation, stopped at a hotel restaurant, where we ordered “North German tapas”. The tapas plate included the original Hamburg hamburger, ground meat with potatoes, beets, onions and sometimes other things. It’s called labskaus. It is also tasty and was letter L on Easyjet‘s A-Z list of Hamburg.