Following my successful five days in London, following the Thames Path through the city, I flew from Stanstead to Berlin to join Nicole and her family in Brandenburg for the next three weeks. Touching down late afternoon in the German capital, I took a train from the airport to Gesundbrunnen, where I changed for a service to Angermünde, the nearest town to the small village where my in-laws live. Before I boarded, I purchased a €9 ticket. Normally this amount would be roughly equivalent to the single fare out to Angermünde. Today I was buying a whole holiday's worth of public transport travel across the entire country. Yes, you read that right! Anywhere by rail within Germany over a calendar month for less than a tenner. Buses and trams thrown in too. The only stipulation being you couldn't use the long-distance trains. I could scarcely believe the value this deal represented.
Nicole met me at the station and we drove to her home village of Schönermark, which belongs to a wider Landkreis known as the Uckermark, basically a farming county. It was a Saturday evening and I'd been on the go since the middle of the previous night, meaning all I really wanted to do now was hit the hay. Fully rested, I decided to embark upon a local wander the following day. Nicole was working "from home" and I was joined on my travels by her youngest nephew Elias. We headed along a dusty track called Mühlenweg which leads to a derelict mill building by a pond. The Ziethenmühle is a reconstruction of a facility that was lost during the destructive 30 years war (1618 to 1648) within the Holy Roman Empire. Now the replacement is itself crumbling away. A field of sunflowers spread out in front of us and Elias wanted to harvest one from the fringes as a gift to me. I suggested this might not be appreciated by the farmer but the wee man insisted it was alright to take just one. Well ok, I thought. It probably won't cause the German agricultural economy to collapse. Such a nice gesture after all. Nicole and I were due to travel north on Tuesday for a short break in the Baltic Sea town of Stralsund. The day before, we took the bus (included on the €9 ticket) into Angermünde. The vehicle was empty when we boarded and there was never more than a handful of passengers during the journey. As we would soon discover, the situation on the trains was rather different. Germany has an excellent nationwide public transport system but car use dominates in the rural regions. Fair play to the Berlin & Brandenburg authorities for supporting a reasonable bus schedule across the two north-eastern federal states as there's no way the routes out here in the Uckermark are paying for themselves. Nicole had booked a place on an art workshop and my intention was to check out the new town museum after visiting a handful of shops in the historic centre.
Angermünde has around 14000 inhabitants and the local economy relies mainly on tourism. The new museum headquarters opened in 2020 and are located within the refurbished Haus Uckermark, which now doubles as the tourist information centre. In previous lives, the 300 year old building functioned as a guesthouse, hotel and cinema. The museum collection was formerly housed on an upstairs floor inside the Town Hall. Haus Uckermark had lain empty since the 90s and was riddled with dry rot. A compulsory purchase order was secured by the town council in 2010 and the redevelopment was in full swing by 2017. Total renovation costs came to €6.5 million and the results are impressive. The museum occupies the top floor with general tourist services below. The permanent galleries were dedicated to the history of the town and it's most famous son, Ehm Welk. Angermünde has pedigree as a market town stretching back to the Middle Ages and the coming of the Berlin to Stettin railway in 1842 - one of the first in the mammoth Kingdom of Prussia - changed the rural way of life forever. The display cases featured objects from as far back as the bronze age to relatively recent times. Ehm Welk was a journalist and author who was born in Biesenbrow (just along the road from Schönermark) in 1884. He is primarily known as a writer of stories about village life through which he immortalised his native Uckermark. His breakthrough novel was Die Heiden von Kummerow, published in 1937. In later life, Welk became convinced that opportunities for those born into rural communities could be improved by education. He helped establish and run programmes aimed at adult learners. I finished my tour of the museum by browsing a special exhibition that sounded much better on paper than the actual reality proved. Schottische Reise was a series of paintings by Susanne Isabella Bockelmann, inspired by a trip to the Hebrides. The artwork was done in a somewhat abstract impressionist style and I found it quite hard to relate to. Yes, I spotted familiar objects but I was really hoping for landscape scenes. I picked up a few leaflets downstairs and headed back out in the sunshine, taking a seat in the pretty market square until Nicole returned from the art studio.
My brother in law David dropped us at the station early the following morning and the Stralsund-bound train was already fairly full when it arrived. Double decker carriages are very common in Germany and we grabbed a couple of fold-up seats against the wall of the landing between the upper and lower levels. The €9 ticket was obviously proving popular with domestic tourists and family groups laden with cases came on board as the journey progressed, having to find space wherever they could. Things quietened down when we halted at a couple of Baltic resorts and many passengers alighted. The sun was shining as we rolled into Stralsund and the old town centre was less than a mile from the station. It was only the middle of the morning and we had coffee and a roll at a bakery while pondering over a plan for the day. We were staying for two nights and therefore carrying just light backpacks. It would pose no problem to wander around the streets before checking into our hotel around 2pm. We worked our way along to the main city square, stopping at a charming independent bookshop. The town hall (Rathaus) and Nikolaikirche dominate the heart of the Altstadt. The former was largely completed by 1350 and we wandered through the inner courtyard, where we found a chocolate shop. My attempts to photograph some of the available wares didn't go down too well with the assistant but her mood lightened when we purchased a bag of truffles. We paused at an open-air café on the huge square and wrote a handful of postcards - an old holiday tradition I'm determined to help keep alive. The historic quarter is designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site and Stralsund is a prime example of a Hanseatic city. The trade federation known as the Hanseatic League ultimately encompassed around 200 settlements across seven present-day countries. At its height between the 13th and 15th centuries, the union enjoyed a virtual monopoly on maritime trade in the North and Baltic Seas. Territory stretched from the Netherlands in the west to Russia in the east, and from Estonia in the north to the Polish city of Krakow in the south. The League waned towards the end of the 17th century and by the time of its final demise in 1862, only the German cities of Hamburg, Bremen and Lübeck remained. Curiously, the first two remain as city states within modern Germany, a distinction also afforded to Lübeck until 1937.
We strolled through the web of narrow streets and lanes, passing a monastery and visiting a small craft shop. Eventually we emerged at the busy harbour area where the museum ship Gorch Fock is moored. A three-mast barque, Gorch Fock was built in Hamburg as a training vessel for the German navy in 1933. Scuttled in the dying days of WW2, she was raised and reconditioned by the Soviet authorities and transferred to Odessa. She took part in many "tall ship" races and cruised far and wide around the globe, winning the Operation Sail race twice in the 70s. Upon the collapse of the USSR, she made her way back to Germany, via England. Across a narrow sound from Stralsund lies Germany's largest island. Rügen has long been a popular holiday destination and is linked to the mainland by both road and rail. It was now lunchtime and we ordered a Fischbrötchen from one of the numerous traders. The city is the official home of the famous Bismarck herring - a simple snack of fresh herring, salted overnight and marinated in white vinegar with spices, herbs and onions. The fish is placed inside a bread roll. Otto von Bismarck became the first Chancellor of the German Empire in 1871 and reportedly approved a request from Stralsund herring pickler Johann Wiechmann that the new culinary creation be named after him. Having previously sampled the Bismarck many times, I plumped for a breaded catfish fillet and we ate at the dockside before going in search of our accommodation. A 10-minute walk brought us to Hotel Atlantik - a large building over several floors. The room was spacious and we rested up for the afternoon. Nicole booked us on a city tour for the coming evening and we secured an early time slot for the Ozeaneum Museum the following morning. It was pleasantly cool as we made our way back towards the centre of town for the guided walk. It was a highly enjoyable couple of hours features tales of public executions, streets piled with horse manure and Europe's oldest harbour pub. A great first day in this seafaring city.
The booking website had stated our hotel rate included a "good breakfast" and I was mightily impressed with the elaborate continental spread. Suitably victualled for the morning's activities, we arrived at Ozeaneum for the 10.30am and entered the vast aquarium complex. The museum is Stralsund's premier visitor attraction and has proved highly successful since its 2008 launch. Patronage in the first year of operation was almost double the expected total and by 2010 Ozeaneum had lifted the European Museum of the Year award. The tour obeyed a top-down principle and the escalator deposited us in the dimly-lit World Ocean exhibition hall for the first bout of learning. Despite the earth being 4.6 billion years old, none of the present oceans have occupied there present territory for more than a measly 200 million years, such is the changing topography of the water that accounts for 70% of the planet's surface. Unfortunately an ever-increasing amount of plastic is floating around. I discovered the blue colour of the sea is due to the fact this colour is most readily scattered when the light spectrum hits water. Red is apparently easily absorbed, hence the fabled rivers of blood may be little more than a rumour. Pressure increases with depth and lifeforms that exist 3000 metres below the surface must cope with 300 kilograms bearing down on every square centimetre of body surface. I'll never complain about carrying a heavy backpack again! Ozeaneum is actually built upon an island within the confines of Stralsund Harbour and is the fourth and newest location of the German Oceanographic Museum. A fascinating exhibit was a rotatable 3D relief map of the earth, but without water. You could run your fingers through the deep ocean trenches, while the North and Baltic Seas were mere shallow depressions by comparison. There was also a display on Endangered animal life, including birds. We moved into the gallery dedicated to exploration and utilisation of the sea. Various forms of scientific equipment were featured and the exhibition examined the fact that only a fraction of marine species is known to mankind at present.
The north of Germany is fringed by the North Sea and Baltic Sea. A large aquarium was dedicated to each body of water and it was mesmerising to watch the fish swimming around in the deep tanks - each with its individual water circuit allowing the adaptation of salinity, water temperature and current strength. We must have spent a good 20 minutes observing the jellyfish alone. At the heart of Ozeaneum is the Open Atlantic Aquarium. The museum's biggest enclosure has a capacity of 2.6 million litres and runs to a depth of nine metres. A huge panoramic window (glass 30cm thick) allows you to watch the action unfold. A model shipwreck is part of the display, which provides a habitat for certain species. The tour of the three aquarium rooms was simply breathtaking. We stepped out on to the roof terrace to view the Humboldt penguins - although just one solitary bird was in evidence. The final stage of the visitor experience is the domed cinema in the basement. We relaxed on recliners while the footage was projected overhead. So good, we watched the film loop twice! Ozeaneum had been an absorbing few hours and we went in search of a quiet spot for lunch. We found a rustic little café which offered a nice soup and sandwich combination. Nicole headed back to the hotel while I took a stroll around the town lake and sat on a shaded bench to read. We were looking forward to dinner and had reserved a table at a fish restaurant, recommended to us by the lady behind the counter in the book shop. I was sold as soon as I saw labskaus on the menu. A popular hearty dish in along Germany's northern coast, the core ingredients of labskaus are salted/corned beef, potatoes and onion. Beetroot and pickled herring are sometimes thrown into the mix. Basically it sounds like German stovies, often made fishy. A cheap but nourishing meal that could be cobbled together from leftovers. To my great disappointment, the dish wasn't available on our chosen evening and I ordered the Kapitänsteller instead - a mixed seafood platter which looked nice on paper but proved nothing special. Nice dark beer to wash it down though. We popped around the corner to Zur Fähre - the oldest seaman's pub in Europe - but the bar was mobbed and there was no prospect of a seat. Not to worry, an ice cream on the waterfront was followed by a bottle of the local Störtebeker Schwarzbier back at the hotel.
The train journey back home was even busier than the incoming leg and there were children sitting on top of luggage in the vestibules. It does prove however that train travel becomes very attractive if you lower the price sufficiently. We both agreed it had been a lovely short break in a historical maritime city and the memories would endure. I next used my monthly ticket on a different type of service - the single coach that trundles between Angermünde and Schwedt every two hours. This slow train stops at all the minor halts on the line and I boarded at Pinnow, actually the closest station to Schönermark, some three miles away. I wanted to walk in both directions in order to create a nice little post-lunch outing. I took a dusty track known as the Pinnower Weg which was probably an inter-village route for horses and carts back in the day. Part of the road has been widened and concreted to allow access to wind turbines in the adjacent fields. I also crossed a flyover above the modern highway but most of the walk appeared as it would have done 100 years ago. Schwedt (population 30,000) is the largest town in the Uckermark and I'd been there many times. It would however be my first sighting of the railway station, having always previously travelled here by car or bus. Schwedt is situated on a canal linked to the River Oder, which forms the modern-day border between Germany and Poland. It has the feel of a new town as 85% of the housing was destroyed in the heavy fighting towards the end of WW2 and largely replaced with modern flats. The retail activity takes place within a shopping centre constructed in the 1990s. Nevertheless, there is a charming old quarter near the water but my mission for today took me in the opposite direction. I had a pick up a prescription for Nicole in the Oder Centre and it was a comfortable 20-minute walk from the station. I did have an ulterior motive. We always go at least once to Café Florenz - an Italian ice cream parlour - when across in the Uckermark and I took the opportunity to enjoy an iced coffee. Well, I was passing anyway! Job done, I repeated my route back towards the station, passing the attractive Berlischky Pavillon (pictured above), where a wedding was taking place. The building was formerly a French church, erected in 1777 and is now an events venue.
You tend not to meet many fellow walkers when out and about in rural Brandenburg. Plenty routes exist but it's just not a major activity among the local population. I did encounter a dog walker while following the Pinnower Weg back to Schönermark, but you can quite easily cover several miles without seeing a soul. A couple of days later, Nicole and I planned to complete the three-mile circuit of the Peetzigsee - one of many lakes in the region, just a short drive away. Elias decided to join us and we set off zu dritt. An enforced stop was made in Biesenbrow as our young nephew announced he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. At least that was his claim! A portion of chicken nuggets soon eased the hunger pangs. I had picked up a leaflet in the tourist office outlining the walk and I learned the lake has a reputation as a popular bathing spot. We even dared to go in and found the water crystal clear and not too cold. I'm not crazy about swimming and was happy to have a quick dip then come out again. Invigorating though. It was hard going in the heat and fortunately parts of the path were well shaded by trees. An ultra-hot spell of weather was forecast for the week ahead and there was even talk of temperatures reaching a record 40 degrees back in Blighty. A highlight of the walk was seeing a swimming snake. Older nephew Jonas was at the awkward age of 13 where traipsing about with older relatives isn't a priority. He did however respond in the affirmative to a suggestion that we have a boys day out in Berlin, sweetened by the fact he was free to design the schedule. It turned out we would be visiting the Berlin Spy Museum followed by the Computer Games Museum. I was more than happy to sign up for this particular trip. Nicole dropped us off in Angermünde and we jumped on a train bound for Berlin. As luck would have it, our service stopped at Potsdamer Platz and it was just a short stroll from there to the Spy Museum. We had a timed booking for 10.30am and had a bit of time to kill outside as we had originally anticipated leaving the train at the Hauptbahnhof and changing to the underground. It was a pleasant morning to while away half an hour on the nearby square. Then we were in. Or were we?
A security pod closed around me as my face was "scanned" and verified. The computer decided I posed no significant threat and the door slid open to let me inside the museum. Jonas made it too. Phew! A Berlin museum of espionage obviously contains a lot of material relating to the days of the infamous wall and the DDR state. Germany was unified long before Jonas was born and Nicole was just a child of 11 when the wall finally fell. I have, however, heard many first-hand accounts of life in East Germany from the next generation up - those who were working adults with families during the years of dictatorship. Espionage, however, has been an important activity ever since wars began. Knowing your opponent's next move is of course an almighty advantage. Germany were in a favourable position in early 1918 after finally defeating the Russian army. The Kaiser's generals were then able to move huge amounts of men and military hardware westwards in an attempt to secure overall victory in WW1. Rapid progress was made initially but the surge ran out of steam and the ever-increasing number of American GI's landing on European shores meant Germany's fate was sealed. French code-breakers contributed greatly towards halting the sudden German offensive, having devised a method of deciphering enemy radio traffic. Ironically, the Germans had utilised a similar advantage when delivering a crushing early blow to the Russian forces at Tannenberg in 1914. There was a section on Dutch-born Margaretha Geertruida Zelle, otherwise known as erotic dancer Mata Hari who was executed by French firing squad in 1917 for allegedly being a German spy. The various state intelligence agencies had reached a high level of professionalism by the 1930s but the outbreak of WW2 led to even greater heights of expertise and technical capability. Disinformation also became a valued commodity, spread in an attempt to undermine civilian morale.
The art of encryption has long been used to disguise messages before transmission. A laborious process when performed manually, the invention of mechanical encryption devices such as the German Enigma machine was a huge leap forward in the technology, as was the deployment of mechanised deciphering methods. The British intelligence teams at Bletchley Park are reckoned to have shortened the war and saved countless lives on account of their code-cracking exploits. Key figure Alan Turing is now regarded as the founding father of computer science. I read about Kim Philby, the British agent who was "turned" by the Soviet Union, providing vital information to the Kremlin during the Cold War. He eventually defected to Russia and lived out the rest of his life behind the Iron Curtain. The drive towards equality and greater representation of minority groups hasn't by-passed the intelligence community and the ranks now constitute a broader church. It's tempting to assert if there's one field where you definitely do want the best person in the job, it's intelligence gathering with all its important ramifications. That said, a lot of old-school spookery involved boots on the ground and the ability to blend into the surroundings, which may have required a certain visual type and being the only black guy in the village perhaps draws unwanted attention, unless you go for the hiding in plain sight approach. The cessation of the Cold War didn't - as many predicted - bring about the end of espionage. The world is still a very divided place and there are many threats to national security. The methods of data accumulation will have moved with the times, with the internet playing a key role. Human nature is not influenced by the passing of the decades and we can be sure there will always be a need for the old cloak and dagger.
The Spy Museum had proved very interesting and the concept applies to all generations. We can't be far off the point where almost everyone played computer games in their youth (and possibly beyond). I'm 50, and spent countless teenage hours hunched over my ZX Spectrum computer (pictured). The brainchild of Sir Clive Sinclair, the "Speccy" was a runaway success in the 80s whose only serious rival in the home gaming market - at least in the UK - was the Commodore 64. The BBC built a solid machine but it was aimed more at educational and business users. Amstrad did alright for a while, before eventually buying out Sinclair, while dozens of other micro-computers from the era have long since been shunted to the rear of our memory banks. Dragon 32 anyone? The Spectrum and Commodore 64 were superseded towards the end of the 80s by more powerful machines such as the Atari ST and Commodore Amiga. They, in turn, gave way to the PC revolution of the 90s. The rubber-keyed Speccy seems quaint nowadays but offered a challenging computing experience at an affordable price back in the day. The museum had several displays of retro devices, including a few that were popular in Germany but I hadn't seen before. We had arrived by U-Bahn, travelling a few stops from the Brandenburg Gate. This meant Jonas got to see a bit of the city as we walked the half mile from the Spy Museum along the edge of the Tiergarten. A highlight of the Computer Games Museum was the arcade, where you could try your hand at old classics such as Space Invaders, Donkey Kong, Asteroids and Pole Position. The latter was a firm favourite of mine as a youngster and the years rolled back as I eased my (now larger) frame into the driving seat within the cabinet. It was fairly busy and hence difficult to get a shot on some of the machines and a few more playing opportunities would have eased the strain. All good, clean fun though. We took the underground - also included on the bargain ticket - back to the Hauptbahnhof and grabbed a bite to eat from the sushi stand (a first for Jonas) before heading back to Angermünde.
Our next major outing was a Schifffahrt up and down the Werbellinsee - the fourth largest and second deepest (167 feet) lake in Brandenburg. Connected to the German canal network since 1766, the Werbellinsee is around six miles long and today's round trip was scheduled to last two and a half hours. Commentary was provided on board and we found a table for four on the lower deck where we could gaze out of the open windows. It was simply too hot to sit out on top. Nicole's Aunt Gundi had driven us here and Elias had once again joined us. Drinks and ice creams were served. Elias also managed to wolf down a wurst. It was a pleasant putter on the 1935-built Altwarp and it was lunchtime when we arrived back at the starting point. We drove up to a nearby Gaststätte (a traditional pub that serves food), only to find it closed due to staffing issues. Another treat lay in store for me, however. A single-track railway ran alongside the car-park and the historic station building was named Kaiser Bahnhof. The line opened in 1898 and runs between Eberswalde and Templin. Wilhelm II (1859-1941) was the German Emperor (Kaiser) and King of Prussia from 1888 to 1918. He was also a grandson of Queen Victoria. Wilhelm was a keen adopter of modern transport and used the railways and steamships to mount extensive national tours. The station here at Joachimsthal was visited by the Kaiser during his hunting trips to the region and a grand pavilion was erected for his personal use. Following Germany's defeat in WW1, Wilhelm was forced to abdicate and he was exiled to the Netherlands where he spent the rest of his days. Curiously, the wartime monarchs of Britain, Germany and Russia were all first cousins of each other. The station was officially renamed Joachimsthal Kaiserbahnhof in 1998, having previously been known as Werbellinsee. The Kaiser's Pavilion was completely renovated between 2004 and 2007. It now functions as a radio studio and cultural centre.
Now, that was a fascinating piece of history I didn't expect to discover. I poked around the historic site, then it was time to find somewhere to eat. We settled on a Polish restaurant a short distance away and I ordered a traditional soup, followed by bigos - a hearty stew. The drinks stuck with a German theme, Nicole and I sampling Berliner Weiße mit Schuss - a flavoured syrup. Nice and refreshing on such a warm day. I had the green (woodruff) additive and Nicole went for the red (raspberry). The temperature was really starting to climb and a severe heatwave for forecast for the next few days. Germany seemed to be affected a couple of days behind the UK, where the mercury had actually topped 40 degrees in Lincolnshire, beating the all-time record high. I wondered what lay in store over here. The rest of the week was spent mainly indoors, hiding from the burning sun, only venturing out later in the evening for a walk around the village, or having a cool-off session in the swimming pool outside the back door. After a couple of really stifling days, the temperature began to ease but it was still way too hot to contemplate a serious walk. I suppose I could have managed an excursion but it wouldn't have been enjoyable. Our next train trip was up the Berlin line as far as Bernau, where Nicole's father picked us up and gave us a quick tour of the town centre. Jens had even lined up a spot of urban exploring on the journey to his home village, stopping en route at the old Russian barracks - Kaserne Vogelsang - vacated since the 1990s. There are four buildings standing in a vast compound that seems to be undergoing some form of development. A sign said "Betreten verboten" but we wandered a few steps inside the main gate and I took a few pictures from the top of a mound of rubble. The pervasive graffiti and sea of broken windows indicated the site had been fully explored and roundly trashed. I found numerous photos online to confirm this state of affairs. I didn't venture any further inside and was happy to experience the atmosphere of the grounds. A reminder that the Soviet military presence in East Germany didn't cease immediately after the Berlin Wall tumbled in 1989.
We spent a pleasant day at the home of Jens and Katherine before it was time to head back to the station. On the way, we pulled into the brewery taproom where Jens has a part-time job. The Bernauer Braugenossenschaft opened in 2020 and occupies part of an old industrial yard. It is run as a cooperative and is the brainchild of a group of beer enthusiasts who met in 2016 and discussed plans to revive brewing in the town. Three house beers are sold and I sampled a couple on site and purchased a few bottles to take out. The rest of the holiday was spent mainly around Schönermark, although we did venture back into Schwedt and visited the bookshop in the old town. It was still too warm to do anything extravagant during the day but the evenings were significantly cooler. We visited a farmer who allows us on to his private property to watch the birds by the small lake and we were hoping to see bearded tits. They had appeared in a bush right in front of us a few years ago at this very spot and tonight we were again lucky. I clearly saw the beard outline through my binoculars as they landed on the reeds standing in the water. We were also aware of large numbers of starlings gathering and it suggested a murmuration could be on the cards. This is a spectacular phenomenon where they fly around in a huge swarm, making phantasmagorical shapes in the air. We didn't manage to catch the display, despite returning the following evening. Maybe next year. We did however see a group of wild boar in the field adjacent to where we had parked. Two females and at least half a dozen piglets. Fortunately they were in the far distance and didn't pose a threat. We kept an eye on them though! We handed in a bottle of malt Scotch whisky to the farmer as a token of our appreciation, which was happily received.
Nicole decided to stay an extra couple of weeks in order to spend more time with her mother in the family home, which is now due to be sold. Bärbel will be moving into a small apartment in the village, while David, Nicol and the boys are going to live in Angermünde. Certainly it won't be the same not staying in the big house. I had a last walk around the village, past the Heimatmuseum (pictured) and picked up an ice cream from the van that calls once a week. Tomorrow I had to leave at 5.33am on the first train to Berlin. The journey went smoothly and I changed at Gesundbrunnen for the airport. Security was quiet and I was in the departure lounge with plenty of time to spare. Back in Scotland, I bussed it to Ferrytoll and collected the car from the park & ride. Another great trip to Germany was over. We will return, but under different circumstances.
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