A beautiful sunny morning with hardly a breath of wind. After a few chores, we departed Rendsburg and motored for several hours down the canal. Our strategy was to pop out at Brunsb�ttel, and then head towards Cuxhaven, where we would stay until we worked out our next plan of attack based on predicted wind forecasts.
The six hour motor down to Brunsb�ttel was as pleasant as the trip up it: glorious sunshine, fishermen chilling out on the canal banks, kids and cyclists waving, courtesy waves from passing yachts, and birds singing in the densely wooded sections of the banks.
There was a lengthy wait at the Brunsb�ttel locks, and then we were out in the open sea again. Soon we would have the ebb tide to aid us in our trip down the Elbe to Cuxhaven. The forecasts promised a favourable wind to help us, and we soon had the genoa up. However, the forecasts did not predict the wind suddenly veering round, and the genoa had to come down. We motored the next few hours down to Cuxhaven, where we managed to find a berth just as darkness was falling.
8th July
 Water Tower |
 Schloss Ritzeb�ttel |
After breakfast, while Alan was checking the wind forecasts, I wandered into the town in search of supplies. I followed a long levee that skirted the town, large parts of the town were below sea-level. In some ways the levee reminded me of a similar embankment around Berwick-on-Tweed.
The levee brought me to the Water Tower, a grand red brick affair and of typical German style. A hop, skip and jump past the Water Tower was the entrance into the main shopping street. This was a typical high street and possessed none of the trappings of tourism. Folk were going about their business with the usual German efficiency, and plenty money was passing over the counters in what appeared to be an affluent town.
At the end of the long street was Schloss Ritzeb�ttel, an imposing building, with a wedding party gathered in front for photographs.
When I hiked back to the boat I pondered on the idea of making a day trip to Hamburg if we were to be cooped up in Cuxhaven for a while. I bounced this off Alan, who thought it a splendid idea, so I later went off to check the train times and costs.
Whilst out in town again, I checked out a gallery in an interesting small building. An exhibition of the life and works of Joachim Ringelnatz (1883-1934), a poet and painter, was being hosted. He had spent considerable time in Cuxhaven, and the museum/gallery was totally dedicated to him. I chatted with the lady on the reception desk, who for some reason thought I was Dutch. Somehow my hard, northern English vowels had struck a Dutch chord with her, and she was quite surprised I was English. Englanders were as rare as hens' teeth in Cuxhaven, and even rarer in the museum. She asked me to speak in my northern tongue, and now she could detect the vowel variations, but nevertheless she understood everything I said. I enjoyed the gallery, and by all accounts Ringelnatz was quite a colourful character.
 Woolworth Still Alive on the Continent |
 Pilot Quarter |
 Hairdresser Sign |