It’s a sunny day again, as I open my eyes and see the sun warming up the walls around me. Although I actually wake up early on my own, I still take it a bit too easy packing everything up, doing yoga, etc. that I end up going to breakfast at 8 AM after all, although having set my mind to be there earlier (like the hotel worker yesterday told me I could do). One last glance at the sunshine on the wall makes me say goodbye to that place happily.

Rushing down to the breakfast hall, I see an unknown number calling me. My phone analyzes the number code to be coming from Waren, the city I am in.

I am greeted by the hotel guy in black with one word: “Verschlafen?” (Overslept?)
While laughing, I tell him that I just took too much time packing things up.

“I thought we’re having breakfast together”, he tells me. Oh yeah, I probably assumed right. He was the one calling me, wasn’t he? I ask him if he had just called me. “Yeah, I wanted to wake you up, in case you overslept.”

I thank him nicely and sweetly, as I can do so well, while silently kind of being glad that I am late, as “having breakfast together” would’ve probably just been very awkward. Maybe also nice, but also awkward. I still say “well, I am still here” to which he answers that he slowly has to start working now.

Ah well. I ask him if I may check out first, and then have breakfast, so I can eat with more ease, and he agrees without any hesitation. Yay, I’m free. This “down-to-the-minute” planning had been causing me anxiety since yesterday, in an inner monologue that goes something like this:

What if they don’t let me check out before breakfast?
Isn’t that my right? How would I argue with them, if they don’t let me?
If they really don’t let me, I can probably have breakfast in ten minutes, check out fast and still make it to the train, which is literally 3 minutes away by foot. But what if someone else is waiting before me and taking too much time? Can I push myself forward?

I am definitely an over-thinker, as they say. Back then, in school, I used to over-think friendships, minor daily incidents, but now I over-think everyday interactions with authorities, institutions, etc. What a pain. Definitely gotta work on that.

Aaaanyways, I have a nice breakfast, I head out, the hotel guy nicely accompanies me to the hotel door, I wish him all well, and I head to the train. And I still arrive like 7 minutes earlier. Why all this anxiety?

I use the time I have to calm down a bit, to enjoy the chilly morning and the emptiness of the platform. In Berlin, an empty platform is quite the exception.

The train arrives on time. 8:30 AM. I get in, it’s very empty, and I’m looking forward to the day. Plan is to get out in Rostock’s central station, take a bus to Kühlungsborn and start walking from there to Rerik.

For anyone who’s not familiar with Germany’s map: This is the day I reach the Baltic Sea! All these mentioned cities lie along the Baltic Sea. It’s the primary inspiration for the route of this trip.

Once I arrive in Rostock, another form of anxiety emerges. (In the end, it all turns out juuust fine.) The background to my anxiety: due to Corona, you can’t buy tickets in the buses in Berlin anymore, so as not to be a danger to the driver’s health. I didn’t know what the rules are in Rostock, so I was worried. There seems to be no ticket machine anywhere, and I am not sure if I can buy the ticket from the bus driver. Well, let’s just see.

I get myself a coffee and wait for the bus at the station.

People start to gather around me, more and more with every passing minute. I see that they all have tickets in their hands. Where’d you get them?!

Finally, the bus comes. It’s about ten minutes late. It looks comfy. I wait at the end of the line, see everyone show their ticket to the driver, and then I get in. With my cute voice I ask:
“Can’t one buy tickets here?”

The driver mumbles “Not right now, the machine is broken, that’s why it took so long”, as my heart keeps skipping beats, but then he waves with his hand for me to just go in. I hesitate, as I’m sure I misunderstood, but he waves again. WOAH! I walk in. And I get my trip for free. Isn’t that awesome?

I feel some moments of euphoria. Everything worked fine, the bus is empty, I am getting to Kühlungsborn, it’s all good. I watch scenes of the city pass me by.

The bus ride is quite an experience. Some people are sitting without any masks, and some people don’t cover their nose. Ugh, at least they’re sitting at a distance. One woman opens a window to get some fresh air in (finally!), and the people sitting in the back already complain, because it’s too windy. They have a short discussion about Corona, etc. but the window stays closed in the end. Soon enough, the bus gets fuller and fuller. Every seat is taken, also the one next to me, and everyone is standing very tightly together. Not to mention, again: some people not wearing their masks properly, and some not wearing masks at all. I keep thinking Corona does not exist in that bus apparently.

Thankfully, I’m sitting at a window seat, and I don’t have to play human Tetris (like someone calls it so nicely) every time someone needs to get off the bus. The bus is so full, it’s indescribable. Adding to that, it doesn’t show each station on a screen or anything. Everyone has to know for themselves when to get off. Okay.

I have Google Maps on on the side, playing a mix of looking at the moving blue dot representing me, and the changing surroundings, trying to catch the name of every station we pass. By the time we reach Kühlungsborn West, where I need to get off, the bus is already half empty again, to my luck.

Having coffee on an empty stomach was not a good idea, as I desperately need to use the bathroom. Luckily, a nice gentleman from a bar/restaurant/café next to the stop allows me to use the bathroom, since it’s still calm enough. I freshen up and feel ready for this day, glad that everything has worked so well already.

Before I start my long walk, I stop at a Lidl supermarket, getting some snacks and a cold packaged coffee for the road. Some people smile at me, which I find nice. I’m all set for walking now.

A few minutes into my route, I realize the first challenge that shall be facing me. Komoot shows that there is a path along the beach, but in truth, it’s sand. The promenade ends at some point, and so I have to continue walking on the sand. As nice as that can be, it’s not so efficient, when you still have 10+ km to walk. Still, I find no other option, so I just do it.

The path keeps changing between sand, promenade and natural paths. As much as I enjoy it, I am seriously suffering from the direct sun. Again, I bitch about myself leaving my cap in Berlin and decide to seriously buy one as soon as I’m in Rerik. I don’t want to get sunburned so I apply sunscreen every hour. My face gets white as a zombie, but I have to not care.

That photo between the grass dunes shows the last part of the path, before I have to walk along the water / in the sand for what feels like ages. Although it’s visually beautiful, it feels extremely exhausting on the long run, especially with the sun shining in my face all the time. I need a break, so I sit on the sand with my back to the sun and eat up a sandwich I got. Thankfully, I am not doing this trip in the middle of the summer, so the sun is only shining in an angle, making the sunlight more bearable.

Finally, I reach a path in the green again. I am incredibly relieved.

Eventually, I reach a big rest area and with that comes a big sense of relief. It also comes with a beautiful view.

Walking further, the path keeps changing between trees and open landscapes. I pass by several fields again, just like I did the last days. All the time, you are facing a beautiful view, looking from a high point down to the sea. According to komoot, it’s an elevation of 20 m above seawater. Not little.

The path is quite well-visited. It doesn’t feel bad, because the more people you see, the more it means that a city or village is nearby. And the more they get, the closer you are. So I use it as a kind of self-comforting, to keep seeing people.

At some point, a tiny funny incident occurs. It’s not really an incident. I merely see a couple with a dog, the man blocking the path, bowing down feeding his dog from between his legs. In other words, I see his butt, as he feeds the dog, of course with clothes on and all. As I get closer and he hears my footsteps, he says with a smile “oh, that must not be a nice sight! Sorry!” and he gets out of the way. As stupid an incident as that might be, it really lifts you up on such a trip, when you’ve gone hours without speaking to anyone and are entirely immersed in your thoughts. I’m really thankful for such funny minor incidents.

Soon, I’m walking along another field… at least I can walk next to some tress, which provide me with some shade.

As I attempt to take this panorama the first time, a woman with two little dogs comes from the distance. One dog starts barking at me for no reason. She tells him to stop. As she comes closer, I say “he doesn’t like the camera much, does he?” She, in a quite funny dark tone says: “yeah, I don’t know what’s with her, I thought she’s barking at another dog, but then I see there’s nothing. As they say… “große Klappe, nichts dahinter””, and she rolls her eyes. She really makes me laugh. What she says kind of translates to: “a big cakehole, but nothing proper to say”

Again, uplifted, I laugh out loud. And I attempt another panorama shot, which works this time (the one you see up there, with the woman on the left side, having passed me).

On and on I walk, sometimes listening to music, sometimes not… enjoying the trees and the view, counting minutes and steps to the destination. The long walk through the sand, in direct sun, has really exhausted me.

It feels like I make breaks at every chance that occurs to me. I am so tired. Today is the shortest distance, but it is by far the most exhausting one. Soon enough, I finally reach Rerik…

Luckily, I find a shop that sells hats and beach stuff at the very beginning! Wow, I am overwhelmed at how well this works. I choose a black cap made of linen, which even covers your neck. The guy is also quite sweet. A black-haired young man with Asian features sits at the cashier’s and works on a very cool drawing, as he talks to me. When I ask him, if I can pay with a card, he says he’s sorry… no card here… “there is not so much happening here…” with a bowed smile. I tell him I’m familiar with that from Berlin too, where there is a lot happening, and still no card payment possible, so no worries. He turns down the price of 12,90 euros to 12 euros for me. So sweet! He wishes me a nice time in Rerik, and I tell him it’s my first time here and keep going.

Finally, I reach the guesthouse and am led to my room. The man at the desk is also sweet and quite funny. At some point he coughs strongly and says in between “don’t worry… no Corona… just smoker’s lung” I laugh and tell him I’m familiar with that, and he laughs. It makes me sound like I’m the one who smokes a lot, when I was referring to other smokers in my life, but who cares. It makes us both laugh.

After checking into my room and taking a shower, I head out to eat. I am so exhausted.

I am starving. I walk to the harbor, where I catch a glimpse of the sunset reflecting in the water. It’s an idyllic view, just as expected.

I end my day with a Flammkuchen (a “French Pizza” or “tarte flambee”) at a restaurant I’ve been to last year. Funnily, even the same waiter still works there.

Afterwards, I spoil myself with a Nutella crèpe and head home with a happy full stomach. The moon is just as beautiful as the setting sun.

__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __

Trip stats:
13,3 km – 3 hrs 4 minutes (in motion) – 4,3 km (average speed)

If you’re interested to see the path I walked on komoot, follow this link:
https://www.komoot.de/tour/263614178