Mr. C To The Rescue

It's been a long day in quarantine.  Actually, they don't call it that.  They call it "Isolation".  Supposed to make you feel better about being quarantined, I guess.

But low and behold.  Mr. C is returning from the (totally wonderful) excursion we had booked to whisk me off the ship as soon as I am "released" from "isolation" at 8PM.  

My Mr. C.   He's my hero.  Especially today. 

The little coastal town of Warnemunde (pronounced Vara-MoonDay) lies right outside my window, and it was part of his tour today.  He felt terrible leaving me behind, but I couldn't see any good reason for two healthy people to miss seeing Germany.  So now he's going to be my personal tour guide, and since we don't pull away from port until midnight, we still have several hours to explore.

Freedom!  I wouldn't care if there was nothing to see, it feels fantastic to be set free from my stateroom to enjoy the fresh air and a stroll.

But there is much to see.  This is a sea-side get-a-way town for the Germans, and it's charming and quaint and delightful.

We are far enough north, I should mention, that it's still light outside ~ and will be until well after 10PM tonight. That's a plus.

We wander the little cobblestone streets together, hand-in-hand, viewing the tidy little houses.  He tells me that the ship Captains' houses are evident because of the fancier rooflines.  A prestige kind of thing.

We stroll along the canal, where we see that boating is a big part of this culture ~ and here we see the "Locks of Love", where lover's attach a padlock and throw the key into the river, symbolizing being linked for life.  We've seen this tradition in most countries we've traveled.  I rather like it.  

We find the beach, where it is evident that this is a highly prized summer activity.  I've never before seen this particular type of beach cabana, which I assume can be rented by the day or holiday week?

Here we also find the obligatory lighthouse, of course.

It's quiet, and peaceful, and soothing.  I love it.

Back along the canal, we decide we should have a bit of German food (since he tells me I missed a wonderful culinary experience at lunch -- authentic German schnitzel, apple strudel, and the like).  

We settle for a brew house with an open air deck overlooking the canal, which I think is perfect.  A German pretzel, ooozing butter from the inside out, with a light German beer completes the mood.

And by then it's nearly 11PM, so we make our way back, in the fading sunset (isn't that just so weird?!?), to the ship.  

I've been redeemed.  My Mr. C, he never fails me.  

And I am ever-so-grateful not to have missed Germany entirely.