Yes, I am finally doing this. On a journey of exploring, growing and healing the self, I have found myself – basically from one moment to the next – incredibly intrigued to explore the idea of hiking solo for several days. Where to? The sea, of course.

And so the planning started. Overall a couple of months, and a couple of weeks of discovering a world of wanderlusting… starting full of questions, ending with a lot of excitement of counting down the days to the actual trip. Where to start? What to wear? What to eat? Where to stay? How to stay out of danger? All questions that suddenly seemed ages away, as I stand in the station of Berlin-Spandau, enjoying the warm early sunshine of 7:00 AM, waiting for the train that shall take me to my starting point… of day 1: Neuruppin.

Stage 1 – It’s happening

I was in a quite euphoric state. I am doing this, keeps going through my mind. People around me, if you only knew what journey I am about to embark on!

Such were the kind of words going through my head, as I watch beautiful sceneries pass me by…

…appreciating the chilled atmosphere in the empty train and the (not to be taken for granted) friendliness of the train personnel.

Anxiously, I await the last station of the train’s journey. The first station of my journey – Neuruppin Seedamm. We arrive at 9:24 AM.

Stage 2 – A lost old lady (with cookies)

I already can’t stop taking pictures. I know I still have 20+ km to walk, but since I know myself, I anyway planned my official start at 9:50 AM, so who cares if I spend the first half hour just taking photos?

Funnily, I’m already put in the next interesting situation. I had heard a nice guy asking an old woman with walking aid if she’d like to cross the street. Then, between some mumbles I hear ‘well, do you know where you want to go?’, but I don’t pay much attention other than noting to myself that this guy is very nice for stopping and asking.

And then, a few minutes later, as I’m stuck taking the photo above this paragraph from different angles, I find this guy approaching me and the old woman slowly coming up behind him. He talks to me: “I am having a bit of an awkward situation. This woman doesn’t know where she wants to go. And she doesn’t remember anything.” Oh!

I am a bit overwhelmed, because I’m not from the city myself and was never put in such a situation before, but of course I try to help and talk to her. I ask her if she knows how long she’s been walking. She mumbles but doesn’t respond. “That’s what I mean. I guess it’s dementia or something”, the guy says. Considering the seriousness of the situation I am calmed by his lightness in the way he talks to her. I keep suggesting answers to her: half an hour? Ten minutes? Just an estimate is all we need. 30 minutes? “No, no… not so long” I manage to get out of her. She’s still very confused, so of course I can’t trust her answer entirely. I then get the idea of asking for her ID, to check her address. I try to keep my questions shorter from now on, as I get the feeling long sentences confuse her more. “Address?”

I am relieved as she starts fumbling around her stuff after a few seconds of not responding at all. The guy tries to help by looking into her trolley with her. I chuckle on my inside as he comments out loud “you have all possible things here… cookies, sweets…” Finally, she grabs a very tiny squished up wallet out of her pocket and picks out a piece of paper…. with an address on it! And a name. Phew! As I already grab my phone to check for it, the guy points out happily that he knows the street. “Straße des Friedens, that’s over there, but how did you get here, there’s a very stoney road, how could you pass over it with your trolley?”

He seems to enjoy teasing her and so I take it as a queue that I can leave while feeling relieved she’s in good hands. He really was very cute with her. But the poor woman! I kept wondering if that happens often, or if we just witnessed a very rare situation, which ended lucky for her…

I go back to myself, enjoying walking the streets of that tiny, old city…

Stage 3 – Arriving

Everyone who passes me greets me so nicely or wishes me a good morning. It’s a pleasant feeling. I enter the first forest I shall encounter today and stop by the Alter Rhin for a not so quick break already.

After getting enough sun, I keep walking. I pass Alt-Ruppin, admiring the charm of the houses…

A few minutes after crossing and passing busy streets and getting barked at by the first guard dog, I’m led to the backyard of a house I don’t see a single person in. The whole area is so quirt. I am really overwhelmed by the absolute quiet that could exist at such a place. And by the view I was looking at…

After walking a few steps further, I realize that the path that was being shown on Komoot is basically just grass. My mind goes yay, closer to nature and then the grass keeps getting higher and I think hmm and then I reach a dead end, while komoot tells me to go straight onto the street. HMM! Okay… no panic. I make a detour…

I eventually realize that “hoping” to find a road to lead to the street is too much to hope for considering I still got 3/4 of the distance to go. And so I just walk through the trees (as you see this strange turn on the map) and “elegantly” walk down to the street, pretending that this is not awkward, no.

Phew! Time for my first snack. I happily get out an energy bar from my fanny pack (first time I use this word ever!), and just as I am about to open it, I stumble over my own shoelaces… and kind of fall down, aaaaand push myself up so fast as if nothing happened and keep walking. Roots, grass, fallen trees, I can pass anything! And then my shoelaces do it. Ah well…

Soon enough, I forget all about the detour issue, because I am happy to see a new tiny city called Neumühle. I love the color of its houses and enjoy walking through the very green forest…

It was quite a thing to walk for minutes and hours and see only a couple of people. I loved it (till then), and every few minutes I would stop in my tracks and listen to the silence around me, interrupted only by wind making the leaves of the trees sing their songs…

Eventually I realized that I wouldn’t mind actually listening to some music during the experience. I let my phone play in my pocket on very silent loudspeaker. And it’s been two tracks that I have listened to on repeat since then… one is Ruby by Ali Farka Touré & Toumani Diabaté, and the other one is called Manitoumani by several artists: -M-, Toumani Diabaté, Sidiki Diabaté & Fatoumata Diawara. Both songs have grown so dear to me over the last few days, especially Ruby feels like the whole world’s soul is in its music…

Doesn’t it look like some dragon or snake or something drinking out of the lake? I know… very cliché…

I stay very curious as to what is coming next so my breaks aren’t very long at the end. And so I proceed… and reach some more beautiful scenery that I couldn’t help but stop and capture basically all the time.

I love golden fields… they feel like the sun shining out of plants. They had something very Toscana-like about them, because they were so dry, and you could hear these cicada-like sounds.

What was very interesting was how much the scenery constantly changed… so one minute I’m walking next to this field, and the next minute I find a resting place by Molchowsee that I recognize from a visit years ago.

Here I take the first big break and have a mini-lunch, as I sit in the sun, looking at the stillness of the water.

Stage 4 – Overcoming challenges

A bit later I face a similar issue with komoot like at the start. It first leads me along a field, which is beautiful, but then somehow the road gets lost, and I have to walk in high grass along the field again. At least I get to make some more photos.

Actually it was my fault, as I decided to change route spontaneously, because another field parallel to this one looked lovely and I wanted to walk along it and it showed there’s a path on the app but there was not! It was quite a challenge, especially with the sun, but I just tried to focus on the beautiful butterflies flying around me and away from under me..

Here you see my sad attempts at trying to walk into the forest to find a path.

Thankfully I trusted my gut and did not do it. The forest (the green area) was going down steeply and there’s no sign of a path. It was the right thing to keep walking along the smaller field (the darker yellow one).

Eventually I got out of this challenge and found another opportunity for a break. With a swan view! (See photo) I also liked watching these boats pass by. Everyone said hi, which was sweet. Also what seemed like a couple of an interesting sports combination passed by – the girl was on a SUP board (stand-up paddle board) and the guy was in a canoe. They were pedaling next to each other.

This is the perfect spot for a coffee, is what I kept thinking. I had bought this gas cartouche only so I can make coffee on the way – but damn, was that a fail! First, I was extremely anxious about even putting it on. I connected it to the “stove” or however you’d call it, and as I was screwing both together whoosh! the gas started leaking out the opening and making this sound. I jumped back (lol!), my heart beating like crazy, unsure what to do next, hoping nobody sees me, as I wasn’t even sure I’m allowed to use this thing. I could hear the sound get quieter, and so I approached it again and tried to screw both together stronger and then it stopped. Well, I eventually figured it only made that sound because of the high pressure it was on, while it was closed, and because I hadn’t screwed them together properly in the first place! Okay… so time for a coffee.

I get out this plastic pot I got from Decathlon to cook and eat in and then think to myself: plastic? Won’t that melt? Although it says 100 degrees C on the pot, I don’t trust it. I must be getting something wrong. But hours later I think to myself that it would’ve probably worked just fine.

What about the coffee though? I ended up drinking it cold.

I do not recommend it… but hey, it tasted like (some very sour) coffee.

Off to see more fields!

Ravens which I loved looking at and then got creeped out by. Because they were circling on top of me and making sounds and then I remembered this funny video of these people getting attacked by crows. I’m not here to hurt you! I tried to telepathically tell them. Maybe it worked. They kept to themselves at the end.

Stage 5 – Sincerely fucking real terror

So what happens next? Why this very dramatic title? This shall be a funny story for everyone reading this but me. Maybe it will be funny for me one day, too. Actually it already kind of is. Okay. Look at these beautiful trees down there…

It’s like a dream, isn’t it? So it felt to me too. But then komoot took my love for trees very seriously and started leading me again into the forest. Surprise: no path. Just grass. No problem. I don’t mind. Closer to nature, I think again. I walk, and walk, and I feel a little strange with time, and then I get why. It’s clear that nobody’s walked that “path” in a long long long time. It’s clear because it’s full of spider webs. Everywhere.

Anyone who knows me well will understand immediately. Maybe silently has already wondered, but was too afraid to ask me: what will you do about all the spiderwebs?

To everyone else I say shortly and clearly: ever since I can remember I have had an incredible fear of spiderwebs. I don’t know why, and frankly I expected it to be way less intense than I experienced in that moment. But it was just too much too fast too unexpected.

All that happened was me slowly realizing that I need to change my paths to avoid walking into small spiderwebs. And then they’d get bigger. And harder to avoid. And then I realized as I looked around: there was a spiderweb between every two trees I could see anywhere. And I was surrounded by trees! Just like you see in the photos.

What would sound like a metaphor quite frankly isn’t: it was a nightmare come true. I actually dreamt that before. Kind of.

Anyway. Look at my recorded path.

You see around the top that my path started becoming “more crooked”. That was me trying to avoid them. And then going right, following komoot’s instructions, and then realizing I am sooo running out of options to avoid them.

This section is probably way too long for the actual seriousness of the situation, but I can only try to describe what I felt: a heartbeat of what felt like 120 per minute, sweat, goosebumps, the need to whine out loud at every one I spot. Ugh!

I was already laughing at myself on the inside. I tried to think of ways to deal with the situation. One attempt was to cover myself up entirely. Scarf covering face and hair, jacket, gloves, and walking straight into them without even knowing. I prepared myself for that. And could not move my feet a single step. Frozen, entirely.

Option two: google what happens when you walk into a spiderweb and try to rationally have a conversation with myself because nothing will happen simply didn’t seem to do it. I just couldn’t move. But thankfully there was no signal anyway, as I doubt the answer would’ve calmed me down.

Option three: grab a fucking branch and break them one by one and pass. Ohmygod, I wince internally. I cover myself up again, but eyes stay free and prepare myself in a Star Wars Warrior with light saber pose to fight off my enemy. Seriously? I hear you ask. Oh, yes.

And so I moved step by step. Breaking one spiderweb after the other and crying out loud every time. Part of me was happy nobody was around and part of me was dying to find somebody to just be my savior, walk ahead of me and I’d walk behind. And part of me thought I must be the funniest creepiest strangest hiker to ever pass this place…

And so, eventually you guys, I found an emptier spot and saw that there is a field nearby to walk along. And so I desperately walked to that field and it worked. No spiderwebs there. I walked to the first big street I could find, took a deep breath and decided I won’t go into “natural” paths for the rest of the day. I had intentionally after all planned the path to be as natural as possible. I walked on an official street for cars till I reached the last village before my destination.

You can see how far I walked taking the street here.

To close this chapter and answer an obvious question: why did I do this trip despite knowing I have this fear?

I simply did not expect such a situation to happen. I didn’t think the app would lead me off paved roads, and then I didn’t expect this kind of intense exposure compared to the exposure I am used to from Berlin and surrounding areas. I never experienced spiderwebs in the middle of unofficial roads like that, at least not in that intensity.

But I learned a lot from this situation. I learned to properly look at the planned roads in the future, properly estimate if they are really there or not, and I also learned to try and do something about this fear again. Still, I keep thinking: what would a normal person do? Surrounded by hundreds of spider webs? Would they just walk through them as if they are a minor discomfort? I can’t imagine it at all. I truly wish I had someone with me in that situation.

Still, I refused to let it ruin my mood, although it took a long time (approx. an hour) for the adrenaline to get out of my system. Only then could I start enjoying the surrounding again..

Stage 6 – Reaching my first destination

Some trees celebrate Autumn already.

The last village I passed before reaching Rheinsberg was Zechow. I sat there by a bench for a few minutes, my shoes taken off (got me some curious looks) and trying to realize the fact that I am almost there.

I let the day flow through my mind again, remembering the morning, waiting in Spandau for the train. It all seemed so far. I remembered the few issues I faced and managed and realized that in comparison to the spiderweb topic, I basically managed just fine. It worked! I was about to reach my destination…

I encountered one last sweet incident before reaching the pension in Rheinsberg. I was walking on a path shared by passengers and cyclists. I heard a bike bell being rung at me. I looked back, seeing an old couple approaching on their bikes. I keep walking, knowing they have enough space to pass, but they ring again. I turn around, annoyed, ready to have an argument, but all they did was say a very sweet “hallooo, hallo!”, to which I couldn’t help but smile and greet them back. The old woman adding “so ganz alleine hier…?” (So entirely alone here?) both made me laugh and realize that I am indeed here alone. And that I can pat myself on the back. Both for making it work but also for being here in the first place.

A nice uplift it was, as I did my last few tired steps, seeing the pension a few meters away… again, admiring the surrounding.

Until, after I nicely get greeted by a lady and her dog, I finally get the chance to lie down…

…in my very authentic rooftop room at the outskirts of Rheinsberg.

__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __

Trip stats:
25,8 km – 5 hours 26 minutes (in motion) – 4,8 km/h average speed – 230 m elevation

If you’re interested to look at my actual path on Komoot, here you go:
https://www.komoot.de/tour/260957507