10/08/2010 12:27 BST | Updated 22/05/2015 06:12 BST

Achtung Baby Or My Strandmuschel, My Castle

My Dove Pro Age Deodorant can't keep up and we're on ice-lolly overload. The paddling pool has been taken over by a family of frogs and the cat is grumpy as hell. So, beach time it is then. Finje delighted us with an attack of the "Are we there yets?" repeating said question 1,354 times in the space of a two hour journey but, praise be to in-car air conditioning, we arrived fresh despite temperatures of 38° and the onset of laryngitis from answering that question on a loop.

I love German beaches.

Should you make the admirable decision to take a holiday by the Baltic, the first thing you might notice is the nudies. I've discussed this issue before so you may

know I am I big fan of Birthday Suit Bathing. Last weekend, Finje was stripping off before we'd even parked the car and we weren't far behind.

Also potentially surprising for you may be how many people are actually swimming.

In The Baltic.

The Germans do seem to possess neoprene skin. If you are able to drag yourself out of bed on New Year's morning you'll see a "chosen few" naked as the day they were born breaking the ice to go for a dip. Not me. In summer though, I'm in. The water is truly delightful.

Last weekend, we achieved a Nowak family first as we swam and played butt naked in the Baltic together. It was bloomin' marvellous. So, if you do come, leave your inhibitions on the ferry. You can pick them up on the way back. German deck officials will probably have tagged and filed them for you for the return journey.

As for the German's anti-lobster strategies. Two main ones. The Strandmuschel or beach clam is a half tent like structure erected to either provide shade or sleet protection depending on the season. They are practical and a bit, well, middle-aged and square.

We have two.

The other line of defense is of course cream. Born hypochondriacs, Germans slick the stuff on half a meter thick every 20 minutes. My husband is no exception to the rule. Running into the sea at full pelt, Finje, with her 1000 SPF, looked like she was about to swim the channel only without the Speedos. When she emerged she launched herself onto the beach, tripped over a bucket and promptly turned into a dough nut.

German kids by the way don't make sand castles they "bake cakes". That's what they call it. Seriously. What is that?

Finje. Builds. Sand. Castles.