Drama in 3 Acts - The Water

The problem with the turn signal should be easy to fix. In Sweden, there are quite a few Biltema stores. Huge shopping markets for outdoor, tools, car accessories, and more. You should be able to find an old lamp there.

What I haven't mentioned yet: the ADBlue level display showed 75%. Still, the electronic nagger insisted that we refill the ADBlue. Just to be on the safe side, we filled up shortly before Rostock and bought a 10-liter canister of the required motor fluid.
Since you have some time at the check-in before the ferry, we wanted to refill the few drops of ADBlue right after addressing the light issue. No more than 1-2 liters should fit in, as it's still three-quarters full. You’d think! The entire canister of TEN liters was swallowed by the tank without spilling out. Excuse me? Something’s not right here! While pouring, we spilled a bit on the asphalt, that's inevitable. After a while, the small puddle dried up, and one could see from the reddish edge where we had dribbled the ADBlue.
So we waited for the terminal to open and observed the incoming vehicles.
Suddenly, André called me outside in a very worried voice and pointed with an even more anxious gesture to the ground under the hood.
There....was....no....puddle! Instead, there was almost a small lake, kept wet by almost constant dripping from above. Oh my homeland!!! What had leaked out from our car and was now dry had the same reddish edge as the spot from the filling. We hardly had time to think, as the check-in terminal opened, and we drove to the last point before the ferry. No turning back possible, no idea what this would mean from now on. Thousands of thoughts rushed through our heads:
Is the level indicator broken?
If it’s dripping every second, how many liters is that an hour?
How long will it take for the 10 liters (and whatever might still be inside) to drip out?
Will the engine start tomorrow morning, or will we be stuck on the ferry?
What happens then?
We were (okay, I was a bit more than André) pretty worn out and worried about how this would turn out. A constant glance under the car was unavoidable. It would stop for a while, then it would drip again. At some point, we had to accept that we had to deal with the situation as it was and hope that we could get to a garage with the car tomorrow.

The ferry arrived shortly after and began the loading and unloading procedure. This year it took unusually long. It took a full 2 hours just to load the cars. For that long, you sit there ready to depart and wait for the sign from the loader, with the most bizarre thoughts that you actually want to suppress.
This time we were among the last to get on the ferry, took our not at all cozy cabin, and soon we set sail. Even 15 minutes earlier than planned.
We only allowed ourselves a short moment on deck, couldn’t really enjoy the departure, and then quickly sought out the onboard bistro for a little something to eat.
I opted for a sausage (which was quite good) with a bun (which had never seen an oven) for €5.
André ordered a Margherita pizza for €12, which turned out to be some rubbery pastry filled with 2 slices of tomato, a bit of greenery, and squeaky cheese. After 10 minutes in a sort of microwave, only the sides were warm, the rest cold. Well then, good night!
Completely exhausted, we fell into bed and had no restful night.
The alarm clock I set was unnecessary this morning. We had both hardly slept and were now only thinking about what awaited us.

You can read about how it continued in Part 3. At that time, we still didn’t know.