The storm was still kind of present, but at one point you could leave your boat behind without being anxious. So we strolled into the highlands of Helgoland. And boy… the islands is strange. It’s visually impressive buts it’s architecture and visitors are rather stuck in time. We felt a little like being in the 70s. Maybe we were. People were not saying hello, the few locals that had to talk to us (for example from the super market) were doing the oddest jokes… it was surreal. Only the fisherman who sold us some fish and chips was a stand-up man, that was actually helping us out the next day. The most unsettling experience was this guy playing the guitar solo in a special hut (protecting him from the heavy winds) playing sad Beatles songs from the White Album in front of maybe 5 people. I sat down with Sophie and we felt sorry for him. He was doing a good job, but the scenery was so surreal, that we could not believe this man was not questioning his own life. I am getting of track here…. but Helgoland was just a start. The North Sea had some more weird shit up its sleeve.
