A cloudy but clear Sunday, nothing planned. We got two coffees to go and then into the car, hair still wet from the shower. It was just over an hour to Lübeck, a maritime town right on the curve of the Baltic, where the inky sea brushes up against the Mecklenburg-Vorpommern and Schleswig-Holstein border. Everything is so green right now, completely filled up by the relentless rain that has, in other parts of the country, absolutely destroyed towns. Up here we’ve had rain, plenty of it, but it’s served only to thicken the thickets of wildflowers that grow roadside and turn fields into clean cut squares of Irish emerald. We’ve been lucky. We played the usual road-trip game (we spend a lot of time driving) calling out every time a deer or particularly large rabbit (or indeed any round, glossy farm animal) was spotted enjoying the endless grünes Futter.
Lübeck was under cranky clouds that had their fun by constantly threatening but, naturally, never delivering rain, so we were able to stroll, dry, through the stone streets. The Niederegger store was open, despite it being a Sunday, so we strolled through rows and rows of marzipan lobsters and pigs and lighthouses and got a little treat at the end.
Then it was on to Travemünde for Backfisch by the Baltic. The kiosk was tiny and ramshackle with a sprawling menu that managed to include gyros, currywurst, sardines, and several varieties of fischbrötchen. The weather was awful, a cold wind rolling in off the sea that was being braved by a few keen wind surfers wrapped up in wetsuits. But the fish – and the huge dollop of potato salad that accompanied it – was good and plentiful.
It started to rain as we drove home. The fields got even greener.