We had two leisurely weeks on the coast, where we were joined by numerous family and friends. Oma and Opa dropped by first - happy to see us, although Oma found the current status of my hair to be less than ideal. The first few days were sunny and warm, allowing us to (finally-after many years) enjoy some quality time on the beach. We also got to take in Germany's Beach Volleyball Championships during that first weekend, where one of Uta's friends was coaching one of the women's teams. Saturday night, a tournament party rocked the beach - complete with all varieties of daggy music and Warsteiner tents featuring the latest rage in Germany: flavoured beer (yes, I know, when Germany starts serving up fruity beer one's got to start wondering about where the world is heading). Uta managed to run into another of her old buddies at the party, which led to hours of humorous recollection, particularly as said friend is now a teacher at Uta's old high school. I, however, made some new friends of my own - there's not too many people that look like me in northern Germany, so apparently it's one of the few places in the world where I'm cool by default. Katrin also arrived over the weekend, reuniting the Dittmer family once again.
As we headed into the following week, Bavarian Pia arrived, but the weather became a bit less reliable, driving up competition for the most critical piece of infrastructure in northern Germany: the Strandkorb. This piece of beach hardware acts as both a wind break and a comfy chair, and nothing appears more beloved among beachgoers. Some go as far as to erect ramparts around their Strandkorb to defend it against would-be usurpers. We had two rented for the duration, which enabled us to forceably evict squatters. And let me tell you - if you want to piss off a German, boot him out of his Strandkorb. It's not a pretty sight. Due to dodgy weather, we took one day and headed down to Hamburg via train to do a little shopping and meet up with Nina and Sylvia. We enjoyed a leisurely breafast at TH2, picked up some items at H&M (the only establishment cheap enough for our Aussie dollars to be useful), did some celebrity spotting (Michael Stich, but only from a distance) and then dined at the hip eatery Vapiano.
Back at the beach, we were eventually joined by the Lagerpusch cousins, Nico and Merit, as well as Matthias, leading to a full house indeed. We capped off the trip with a celebratory evening at the local tennis club, where Uta caught up with everyone from days of tennis gone by, and I put my German to the test trying to keep up with conversations (which become increasingly difficult as the night wore on and speech started to slur). Pia and I finally packed it in at 1:30 and biked back to the ranch, leaving Uta to rage til dawn.
All in all, a daily routine of food, bicycle rides, and lying on the beach is an idyllic existence, particularly with the occassional Dorf Fest, round of golf, or booze up. But all good things must come to an end, and in this case, we ultimately had to hop a plane to Split (which necessitated waking up at a truly criminal hour).
Photos here
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