Threadingwater was kind enough to ask for photos... so here are some snaps of our day-to-day around here.
You'd think they knew we were coming!
(View from our window. Yup. those are CRATES of beer.) (And a few pony kegs.)
The street really does look like that: it's no Disneyland - it's real. Boyhood amuses himself following the crooked lines and tracing the crazy timbers. He would say that what's really holding these places up is memory. Or habit.
We realized the other day that we've come from one historic seaport town in the cold Northwest to... a historic seaport town in Germany's Northwest. Okay - so this place has a few years on Port Townsend... six hundred of them... but hey. Who's counting?
When we first arrived, the apartment looked like this inside:
It's lovely, really ... if you can overlook the late-80's carpet and cabinets. And it's so perfectly suited to our needs here – just the right amount of space; storage for suitcases so they're not underfoot; full kitchen so we can cater for ourselves... and the location could not be better. (Even when there's no beer lorry at our door!)
Fresh bread: 12 paces to starboard out the downstairs door.
Butcher shop: 6 paces to port (literally next door). Staffed with a wonderful lady who, after we confessed our ignorance of German meat products, has literally taken it upon herself to educate us about the intricacies of ground, processed, smoked, and otherwise fabulous pork products.
Wine shop: across the way... wines from various regions of Germany, plus France and Italy... and they even have a rich stash of single-malts (Ebony, are you listening?) behind the counter. Heaven. Pure heaven. I told the gal behind the counter that we didn't need a bag, and she didn't quite want to believe me that we live across the way... but off I toddled, a bottle in each hand, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
And then we took it upon ourselves to doll the place up for the holidays. And 30Euros(~$50) later, voila!:
That's German for Ambience, baby.