Germany on the Baltic, and the Agony of Da Feet

I’ve probably written far too many posts about our Baltic trip last summer, but I wanted to document it to do the trip justice, and encourage others to travel there as well. It was such a rewarding itinerary (and greatly enhanced by perfect weather…) Our final two days were in northern Germany, a country I knew well, but not this part of it.

The ship stopped at 2 ports – Warnemunde and Kiel. Warnemunde was billed as the stop for Berlin, but as it’s a 4-hour train ride each way to get there and back, I really feel like that’s false advertising. We’re planning on a several-day visit to Berlin in coming years, so we decided to skip it and take the 20-minute train ride into Rostock instead. Smart move…

Rostock was one of the cities in the Hanseatic League, the medieval commercial and defensive confederation of merchant guilds and market towns in central and northern Europe. Indeed, every city we visited on this Baltic cruise was part of the League. Their influence was so strong for centuries that it influenced everything from the languages to the architecture of most of the countries of northern Europe. Note about the baptismal font from the Marienkirche pictured above: Even though it was made in 1290, during WWII, it had to be hidden out in the countryside to save it from being melted down for war material. 😉

Industry like aircraft factories and shipyards made Rostock a valuable target during WWII and it was heavily bombed. After the war, it became East Germany’s largest seaport, and is home to one of the oldest universities in the world.

We took a short train ride into the city with our new friends from the ship, Chuck and Michelle and had a lovely wander around the old town. We ate at this wonderful restaurant on the harbor, recommended by the excellent tourist information office.

Back at the mouth of the river Warnow in Warnemunde, we had a look at what a former Communist seaside resort looks like today. A little tacky around the edges but trying hard, it reminded me a bit of the Jersey shore. Full of guesthouses, small hotels, restaurants, souvenirs and happy holiday-makers, it felt sincere, and I imagined how a trip here would have been a huge reward for the most productive factory workers behind the Iron Curtain. The 3 miles of sandy beach would be great if you didn’t mind cold water. A block off the water, fisherman’s cottages from centuries past added to the charm. It was listed as one of the world’s busiest cruise ports, ahead of Dubrovnik or Puerto Vallarta – who knew?!?!?

Kiel, the next day’s port, was the headquarters of the German submarine fleet during WWII, so heavily bombed as well. It would have also been part of East Germany, but was seized by a British-American force to protect its port, scientists and the Kiel Canal from the Soviets. A German cousin has recently completed medical school in the city, and recommended we not waste time there, as it had been rebuilt in an unattractive modern style.

The good thing about our stop there was that as we departed, it was the first day of Kiel Week, one of the largest sailing festivals in the world. The waterfront was one huge festival, and our ship sailed out among tall ships and countless smaller craft.

Off we went instead to Lübeck, the cradle of the Hanseatic League. The hour-long train ride went through lovely rolling countryside, not the pancake-flatness I’d been led to expect in northern Germany.

The city was packed with medieval architecture. Although it was also bombed, the historic center has been beautifully restored. My husband’s uncle moved here after the war to work as an engineer, and a cousin was born here. The family connection made is special.

And now a travel note: the phrase “the thrill of victory, the agony of defeat” has always resonated with me, but more like “the agony of da FEET”! Yes, I have finicky feet. No bunions or hammertoes, but as I’ve gotten older, the skin on my feet has gotten as thin as tissue paper. No matter how broken-in the shoes are, I’m probably going to sprout a blister. Or 3 or 4.

The weather was WARM, and tennis shoes were hot, but better than my serious-walking-great-support-broken-in-sandals. I did follow my rule of never wearing the same shoes 2 days in a row, but when you’re racking up 20,000 steps in a day, you need stronger stuff at your disposal.

In the past I have used “moleskin“, either attached to my skin (pre-blister) or my shoe (post-blister). The problems are that 1) they don’t stick well once your feet start to sweat and 2) they have to be cut to fit with scissors, which can be hard to find on the fly or even in your hotel room.

Then I discovered gel blister pads in a Danish pharmacy – eureka! Here is an American brand. They are sweat- and water-proof, come in a variety of sizes, and in a convenient pack to carry in your bag or pocket. I went through 3 packs of them. Game-changer for us finicky-feet-folk – don’t leave home without ’em!

So tell me – have you been to northern Germany? What have been travel life-savers you discovered on a trip?