Ostsee

Germans do not call the Baltic Sea the Baltic. They call it the Ostsee meaning the East Sea. Interesting, and not a little confusing. We spent a lovely (and chilly) long weekend at the Ostsee on the German-Polish border (check out a map- we were WAY far North) in late May. As I mentioned, it was chilly. But lovely. Fiona enjoyed her time on the beach, stripped down naked and hopped into the water (in true Euro form. Some of the women were out walking on the beach in jeans and a bra- very strange. Especially as it was about 50 degrees) for a swim.

In order to drive to the Ostsee, we used Google Maps. I have never had a problem with Google Maps and in fact, believe them to be quite reliable over other similar tools (MapQuest is rather confusing and always underestimates the length of the journey). So we followed the map fairly well up past Berlin, over the Polish border. Like most European borders now, it's just an old checkpoint, completely deserted. I always find it funny because our borders in the US are so tight - when we go to Canada, I rehearse my information for miles ahead of the scary homeland-security-man who will ask me many, many questions about my very innocent vacation. Once I had a small run-in over muffins which I called pastries and he thought I said peaches which would mean I was violating the agreement to never ever bring produce across national borders. Another time my mother and I threw all the tomatoes out the window in Houlton, Maine, just before the border so as not to break the same rules. But on the East German/Polish border? No problems. Entering Poland, we noticed that the roads were in need of a good paving, the gas was really cheap, and the Polish language is very hard to read but most signs were in German, so we were grand.

Now, we had planned to go to a resort town on a peninsula. So we followed Google Maps like good map followers, but it was leading us very deep into a weird, industrial, run-down area. We kept going. Reading Polish street signs is NOT something we're good at, so there were a few tense moments when I tried to read the name of the street out loud for Russ and he thought I was cursing/sneezing/seizing. After a few such turns and false starts, we made our way to a pier- and were supposed to turn right. Really? Into the water? And where was the hotel, the beach, the promenade- we were at an industrial-looking pier, no businesses in sight, and lots of oily looking ships. A concrete paradise. We actually discussed turning around, heading to the German side of this "beach town" and staying there. Google Maps had really done a number on us, but we persevered. Russ somehow established that in fact this WAS an industrial ferry- and also for residents of the town and that the passenger ferry that we needed to be on was 5 kilometers away. Ok... but since when do you need a ferry to get to a peninsula? Apparently in Poland. Off we went.

After all the drama, and seeing the ugly side of Swzinjzuozuskise (sp?), we made it to our peninsular resort- promenade, beach, gorgeous hotel and all. There we were able to play on the beach despite the cold, listen to Polish music to beat the band, and enjoy a relaxing weekend. I highly recommend this place we stayed- cheap, clean, modern, great location. And Google Maps was right! I DID have to take a right to get there. I just needed to swim a few hundred yards and "continue on Kwswiziukizckemestcz street."