It’s a cold, 55-degree (13c), gray morning, and, for the sake of convenience, I inconvenienced myself. Rain is expected throughout the day until early evening, and while at the last minute, I decided to wear pants instead of shorts as I was certain I could deal with some cool weather and drizzle, I’m still in the hotel room as Klaus is out searching for a shop I can buy a cheap sweater and rain jacket for just this one day. Tomorrow and Wednesday promise boundless sun and warm temperatures if you consider 63 degrees (17c) warm.

Certainly, I’m not only in the room for this reason; writing has to continue as well. I fear falling behind even for hours would lead to a cascade into doom, and I could never catch up and I could simply enjoy the break and only focus on the moment. Foolish, you might say, thinking I should always be in the moment? I’d argue that my contradictory position is that I’m always in the moment but with a forbearance that strengthens my resolve to be intentional. I cannot tell you if constant writing offers me anything meaningful at the end of the day or will have done so by the end of my life, but I believe that my focus on what I’m doing as I do it must have sharpened my ability to see and retain what I will share later.

Klaus texted me about a shop that was open early, and so I walked over to meet him there. Rain jackets for 60 to 200 Euros ($70 – $237) weren’t what I had in mind, and as it is “summer,” there are very few long sleeve warm shirts in stock right now either. Nothing left to do but get a coffee and wait for the other shops to open at 11:00.

Janny’s Eis-Kaffee has indoor seating along with coffee and ice cream, so that’s where we parked ourselves. Taking a table, we were surrounded by kayaking pictures, but it was this large setup that grabbed our attention and elicited deep laughter from me. In the U.S., you can’t use the word “Fuck!” on the wall of an ice cream shop that kids will obviously visit. But you can in Husum, at least if you are 57-year-old Freya Hoffmeister, who owns Janny’s along with another Eis-Kaffee on the harbor in Husum, and she’s a badass. Freya has circumnavigated Iceland, New Zealand, Australia, Ireland, and South America and is now on a 10-year 50,000-kilometer (31,000 miles) first-ever circumnavigation of North America – all by kayak! In 2015, she was named the National Geographic Adventurer of the Year. Gobsmacked is not a strong enough word to share the WOW factor she inspires.

Tomorrow, I start advertising fish sticks for my new gig as a spokesperson for a fish company selling convenience. This rain jacket (nostalgically known as “Friesennerz” or “Frisian Mink Coat” in Germany) is so heavy I’ve decided I can find warmth in this and will forego a layer for the sole reason of saving money on things I don’t want to carry back to Arizona though this rain jacket is going home even if I have to ship it back. Now I’m ready to face the cold, wet day.

Good thing we checked on what food options exist out on the island of Pellworm that we are visiting today because we won’t have any with the limited time we’ll be there.

We’d like to be on the island for a longer time, but the ferry that takes us on the 30-minute crossing doesn’t run so frequently, apparently only 3 or 4 times a day, and first, we’ll have to catch the bus that requires 40 minutes to take us to the ferry launch.

So instead of leaving right away, we have a good hour to spend, and where better to do that than in a warm, dry building? This is my second time visiting the Schiffahrtsmuseum here in Husum; the first time was with Caroline. It’s tragic that I’m so close to Denmark on the north German coast and can’t find Danish Poon and will instead have to satisfy myself with this Dutch Poon.

From poon to buttplugs, I thought this was a ship museum, not a toy store for my friend Brinn?

It was April 2013 when we first passed through this area of Germany as we wandered without a plan on a trip that was a spontaneous jump into the rental car. We had to go somewhere while in Germany for the first time in 18 years, so why not north? We’d traveled back to Caroline’s birthland because Jutta had broken her hip, and seeing that broken hips can be fatal for the frail and infirm, both of which my mother-in-law could be considered, we left for Germany right away. Luckily, Jutta recovered very well, allowing us a couple of multi-day jaunts into the areas we had not been to before, such as the Wattenmeer.

If you want to see more from that visit to this very place eight years ago, click the link in the previous paragraph. Back then I shared a photo of this entire shipwreck that was dug out of the mud nearby. It’s a 400-year-old relic and one of those things I never thought I’d see with my own eyes a second time in my life.

During that other visit, I pointed out that we had a rental car; Klaus and I, on the other hand, came up from Frankfurt on the train and are now heading to Pellworm Island on the bus. Stopping for photos is out of the question, as is getting off the bus and just grabbing the next one.

With a few minutes to spare before we left, I thought it was a good time to grab a photo of myself as, without Caroline here, there doesn’t really seem to be a great reason for selfies, but I have to admit that I do enjoy an occasional visual reminder that I was in the place I’ve taken so many photos and written so many words that were shared here.

Cold and rainy didn’t matter to my brother-in-law Klaus as he, too, was enjoying the quiet cool of being somewhere different for the first time this year.

We have two hours before the last ferry of the day returns visitors to the mainland. We hopped on a bus to take us to the old harbor, which must be the center of town. There’s really nothing here. If there’s another village on this island that has a larger population and more historic buildings, it’ll have to wait for a subsequent visit, as we didn’t feel we had enough time to get out to the lighthouse either.

So we walked through the small number of buildings, happy to be here at the end of the rain.

There was a Friesian horse in this pasture, too, but it was not going to pose for a photo, so you get these two beauties instead.

This is the old harbor.

And this is the other end of the old harbor.

This is a traditional Frisian house with thatched roof.

And a close-up of a window.

From the Old Harbor, we started our walk back to the ferry dock. So, should you ever decide to visit Pellworm, do not take the last ferry to the island, and whatever you do, bring a bike or rent one.

We barely got here, and the island is already saying goodbye.

If you told me that there were more sheep on Pellworm than people, I’d believe you. This got me thinking that Google might have answers for that, and so upon searching I learned that there are about 1,200 people here, 2,000 cows, and about 3,000 sheep.

To be a sheep living on a dike eating grass all the time next to the sea sounds like a great life until you get to the slaughter part.

As for being a human living on the island, I’ve heard the weather up this way is harsh. Unless you farm, teach school, or run a shop or restaurant, I think the means to make money are rather limited. Maybe an Airbnb for a month up this way could be in our future?

That or grow a thick coat of wool and just hang out here like this chill sheep.

While at the Old Harbor, there was a measuring stick on high ground showing six floods from 1573 to 1976, with the 3rd of January 1976 being the most recent, with water 4.74 meters high or 15.5 feet over normal. If it wasn’t for the protective levees that have been continually raised, most of the island would have been underwater.

We were moving too fast back to the ferry, with a good 30 minutes between our expected arrival and the departure back to Husum. Obviously, there was nowhere else to go.

We’ve seen oystercatchers yesterday and today but none as aggressive as about the half-dozen that were circling us. Were we near their nests? Were they simply excited to see people where there are so few?

On the left of the photo is the lighthouse we would have liked to visit.

Four cars and maybe half a dozen humans were the cargo making the 30-minute return journey across the shallow sea. Back in Husum, we had dinner at Fischrestaurant Wiesendanger, and while the fish was great, it was the broccoli cream soup with smoked salmon that was the big winner, especially on such a cold, wet day.

Exhausted, we were back in the hotel before 10:00 and asleep minutes after that. Tomorrow we are looking at nice weather and a warm-up to 17 Celsius. I hope that’s warm enough, as I’m not wearing that giant raincoat on an 80-kilometer (50-mile) bike ride.