Wadden means mudflats in dutch. Ksenija has been doing some mud walking. Oh, I hope to come back and do that too.
No water as far as he eye can see. Only grey lolling mud. And the smell of cow poop.
I haven't researched it yet, but it seems that the big ship reached the island by a canal, dug in the mud. A somehow disquieting thing. The gulls are on the edge of that canal. There were a couple of seals spotted on it, too.And it was all water on our way back later that day. But it couldn't have been very deep.
Another ship coming our way. The canal goes in zigzags. And the ships advance rather slowly, not to disturb the water too much, I guess.
The so feared raw herring. It was surprisingly delicious, melting in our mouths. The guy at the restaurant told us we were very lucky, as it is the prime time to have it. He even offered to cut it in pieces. The onion and the pickles were in harmony with the fish.
Well, later on, in Utrecht we swallowed the fish whole, as the locals do. But the one in Ameland was more delicious, softer.
The curious long shells.
They gave me an idea for nail extensions. A kind of beach pedicure.
I didn't know how to include this one into the beauty procedures. Probably suited for the facial scrubbing as it was very fragile, and fell apart under a smallest amount of pressure.
We call this photo "GAP fashion-life is fun!"