North Sea Vacation

Germans are determined vacationers. Enter a German bookstore, and there may be more shelf devoted to travel guides than there will be to all other non-fiction combined. While warm, sunny, seaside space places like Mallorca and Italy feature prominently in the selection, you can't underestimate the German desire to get to sea, without traveling all that far.

Thus I found myself visiting the North Sea over the recent Easter vacation, with the kids, husband and mother-in-law in tow. We stayed in what is knows as a vacation village (Feriendorf), which was set aside by the local municipality for the purpose of building vacation homes (but which are not run as a resort).

Vacation Village
The village was built up like a little town, around a central playground, and contained a grocery, bike rentals, and best of all - an indoor playground to which we got free entry (by virtue of having payed the Spa Tax). Paths throughout were nicely paved - providing a palette for little girls who wanted to create life-sized princesses.

Wildlife
Being on the North Sea, we of course had to visit the Seal Aid Station, where they tried to rehabilitate injured or helpless seals for re-release into the wild. We watched them being fed, and even got to pet one - albeit one long since no longer wild (or even living for that matter).



The Dike
Like the more famous Dutch coast, the German coast is also heavily fortified against the sea with dikes. These are 7 or 8 meter high berms of grass-covered stone and earth, usually further protected from the waves and storms by stone covered paths on the sea side (Anke on the left). The beach (for bathing is allowed in some areas) appears at low tide as a very long, very flat expanse of fine sand, reached by descending stairs to the sand (see Anke escaping the quicksand below) . Being by far the highest spot in the area, you can see forever from the tops of them - Peter and Anke are here visible with a wind turbine farm in the background.












We were there over Good Friday, which is normally very strictly observed with almost all businesses and shops closing, but in spa locations (that's apparently an official designation), they are exempt to some extent from this rule. This is because, since most visitors to the area (who are the primary economic drivers!) come over holidays, the businesses must be open then in order to survive.

In fact, the region impressed me with the determination entire communities showed to draw in tourists. This was a positive thing. In the US, such vacation destinations spring up, it's rather a casual thing, with the free market (with maybe a little help from the gov't) determining what amenities show up. Here it seemed different - whether it was the subsidized bus system to whisk you around, or the multitude of cheap indoor attractions (it was March, after all), it just seemed like the entire affair had been organized to keep the tourists showing up year-round. So, for example, you could visit the indoor activity center in Norden, or rent beach chairs to protect you from the wicked wind (both visible behind the shivering Anke).

The Weather
Why is Anke shivering? Because it was COLD. And because I vastly underestimated the wind. March at the 53rd Latitude isn't balmy or especially sunny. Add to that the bracing wind that was almost constant - remember those wind turbines in the picture above - and you have conditions that make you wonder WHY these pictures show so many other tourists besides us.

The reason: Germans are tough, determined vacationers. No, really. They work hard, and so by God, they are going to have a good time even if it kills them.










The climate in these communities on the North Sea has a reputation as healthy (sea air)- there were numerous Spas and Saunas catering to people who just wanted to relax as well as to those there for a Kur (a sort of German health-vacation). So despite the weather, there was a healthy number of visitors; I can only imagine it in summer when even the casual vacationers show up. My mother-in-law contends that it gets quite hot there, but I can't imagine ever being warm there with that wind! And even in front of a beach, there is still the fortified walkway (see the kids balancing on the wave-breaking stones), just to keep the beach there!

But on the day you see in these pictures, it was relatively sunny, so despite the risk of chilblains Uschi (the mother-in-law) & I decided to take the children for ice cream. This is another thing about Germans you must understand: They are tough, determined ice cream eaters. Any time is good for ice cream, and as long as it's sunny, they will risk losing toes in order to enjoy their ice cream outside. I respect this, but Uschi and I still decided to sample a local specialty: Grog. That's the kind of Kur you need in that weather.

The Swine Flu

Yes, Germany is under attack from the Swine Flu. But it's interesting to watch the reaction:

• Many people are upset because supposedly politicians and civil servants are getting the "better" vaccine - the one without "mercury and nanoparticles" as someone informed me today. Whatever they are getting, they're not handling the public relations very well.
• Possibly as a result of the above rumors, many people are deciding against the vaccine. One piece I saw in the paper cited a survey in which only 30% of Germans were hoping to get it.
• The Health Ministry has issued a directive requiring all those in close contact to a flu victim to stay home for 7 days (i.e. parents of a sick child).
  

Do you actually want to get the vaccine? It's not that easy.

• Lists of doctors administering the vaccine are in the paper. There is just one in our immediate area. When I called him regarding getting the kids done, the receptionist told me they don't do kids without an acknowledgement from the pediatrician that the child can receive it.
• Our pediatrician's receptionist has never heard of such a thing. The kids and I will head in there this afternoon to chat with him about that - possibly exposing us all to the flu as the waiting room is sure to be filled with fevered children.

Meanwhile, one school in the next city closed last week after most of a class fell ill during a field trip. Both the kindergarten and the school sent home letters yesterday saying that they'd had cases reported, but please, KEINE PANIK! The kindergarten had big signs around informing the parents that one of the kids had been sent home with it on Friday.

But panicking the Schwafheimers seem to be: when I took Anke to kindergarten this morning, she was the first child there. Usually she's 3rd or 4th. Only 1 further child came in while I was talking with a teacher for 10 minutes (helping inform me of the other, above beliefs). Meanwhile, I've been told, a lot of parents are excusing their children from the after-school program for the week, partly because the teachers there, who are still on their feet, have to combine all the kids into one or two groups.

Facemasks have yet to make an appearance.

And yes, we know at least one of the cases: a friend of Pete's, his little brother a close friend of Anke's, and yes, we've had close contact with the family in the past few days. But what can you do, other than risk exposure by going to the doctor's to get the shot? Oh, the irony.

Maybe I should start laying in supplies!

St. Martin's Day

These past weeks have been a flurry of activity to prepare for the annual St. Martin's celebrations. These are a big deal for the little kids, who spend hours preparing paper lanterns (with varying degrees of help from the mothers). The children will meet after dark (i.e. 4:45pm at this time of year) for a procession through the village. In the olden days these lanterns would be lit by candles; but as every adult can remember the heartbreak of a friend's lantern engulfed in flames, everyone uses specially purchased battery powered lantern rod & light combinations.

After the parade, in which the children sing the traditional St. Martin's songs about his generous exploits to the accompaniment of a small marching band, there is a bonfire. St. Martin, who's been shadowing the parade the whole time on this horse, comes to the front and re-enacts the famous St. Martin-and-the-Beggar story (see picture). Then he hands out to all the children a kind of slightly sweet pastry in the shape of a man carrying a clay pipe, called a Weckmann. I've read this is supposed to represent Martin, who was a bishop, and the clay pipe is an inverted Bishop's crook.

After this activity (which is usually accompanied by Glühwein, or mulled wine, for the grown ups), the kids go door to door with their lanterns, singing for the homeowners and collecting candy. This has been going on for generations though, so unlike a lot of things here the Germans can't blame an American cultural trait (here: Halloween). And I must say: the kids' haul was much bigger, for less "work", than in the U.S.!

St. Martin is apparently a popular saint throughout Europe. It's always pointed out that the festival is a good chance to teach the kids the power of sharing, but splitting of a cloak in half to share with someone who has NOTHING seems a rather shaky platform on which to build an entire festival! I'm also not sure what the significance of the lanterns is; probably descended from some pagan ritual.

In my more cynical moments I wonder: If Valentine's Day is a "Hallmark Holiday", and Christmas is encouraged by the toy and luxury good industry, then is St. Martin's Day pushed by the paper products industry? Somebody has to buy all that construction and transparent paper!

But it's still really cool.

Interesting note: at 11:11 a.m., on Nov. 11 (11/11), Karneval season officially opens. New royalty is named, and slowly, very slowly, Karneval activities begin, like Sitzungen (literally: A Seating), which is sort of a series of corny stand-up comedy acts in a beer-hall type setting.

Picturs of the lanterns to follow.