wilhelmshaven: that time my shoe decided to abandon me

i woke up to a floor that tasted like salt and nostalgia. welcomes to Wilhelmshaven, where the waves are louder than your problems and the weather’s like a confused ex. i hit the streets with nothing but a backpack full of existential dread and a map that led me to a bunch of brick warehouses. the sea breeze smelled like old secrets and aquarium cups.

imo, it’s 4.23 degrees right now. feels like 0.31. sure, why not. it’s the kind of cold that makes you immediately question all life choices. i just checked and it’s… there right now, hope you like that kind of thing. add a scarf, maybe a second layer, or embrace the chaos and run through puddles like everyone else.

i snooped around a local park where kids built a fortress out of driftwood and existential dread. someone told me that the wind here used to carry whispers in old dialects. didn’t hear any, but i’m 80% sure someone’s just talking about my poor life choices.

i grabbed a coffee from a stall that probably charges 50% more for lukewarm sludge. the barista was muttering in German about how nobody visits here unless they’re forced by fate. fate’s a cruel thing. or maybe she’s just bad at her job.

"do not trust the food trucks"

. okay, fine, i did. the snacks were lukewarm, and the kebab tasted like regret. i blame the weather. or maybe i’m just disastrous at life.

if you get bored, grzein is just a ferry ride away and claims to have better coffee than this dump. don’t believe them. stick to the local ‘coffee’ that’s basically hot ash but served with pride. some say this city is a ghost town. others say it’s a person who moved here in 1998 and forgot to cancel their utility bills.

"the museum’s guided tour involves walking in circles and a man who thinks he’s a historian"

. i did that too. turns out the so-called history here is mostly a guy in a mustache talking about ships and very loud wind. mustaches earn respect here. maybe it’s a cultural thing.

"avoid the central square at night. something’s off."

. i ignored it. i wanted to see if the lights flickered like in a bad horror movie. they flickered. i hugged the wall. nothing else happened. we all laugh now. except maybe the guy who owns that streetlamp.

someone told me that the beach is actually a pet cemetery. not sure if it’s true or not. saw a bunch of plastic flamingos arranged like some sad art installation. maybe they’re guarding something. or maybe someone just forgot to pick them up.

wildlife is not your friend here. a group of seagulls once stole my sandwich mid-bite. i threw the bread away and yelled in english. they just blinked and fluttered off like, ‘glad you’re done with us.’

if you need help, just ask a local. they’ll probably stare at you like you’re a tourist. or worse, a tourist with a functioning brain. i asked for directions to the post office. got a confused nod, a shrugging gesture, and a map that looked like it was drawn by a cat.

i wandered into a market square where someone was selling bagpipes. not the flutes. no, like, full-on bagpipes. nobody bought any. i did. for $20. it plays like a dying accordion. now it sits in my backpack, wondering why it was abandoned.

"theWiFi is slower than your ex’s answers"

. tried connecting at a café. internet speed = 1 KB per minute. i gave up and used the library’s WiFi. it was faster. also, the librarian gave me the finger before letting me borrow a book. multitasking much.

here’s a photo of a black bird perched on a rusty fence. weird, right? or the image of a white wall so clean it looks like it’s judging your life choices. or this random battle tank in a field. someone’s got a weird sense of ‘decor.’

tripadvisor.com says this city is ‘for brave souls.’ yelp has a 4-star review from a drunk who ‘definitely regretted coming here.’ and localboards.eu is full of threads like ‘why do all the cafes play this one melancholic song?’ answers vary. everyone disagrees. me too.

if you like moody weather, wary pigeons, and people pretending they’re not tourists, Wilhelmshaven is your vibe. don’t expect anything normal. this place thrives on weirdness. unless you want normal. in which case, leave.

p.s. the sand is cold. also cold. it’s the same sand. just colder now because the weather’s badly written.

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