♥︎ Before you read this: This is a long post, a story, and I pour my heart into writing every detail of it. I appreciate it so much, if you read it when you have some calm time and the space to immerse yourself in it, away from the everyday hecticness, to take it all in as best as you can. I suggest you make yourself a warm cup of coffee, or a cup of tea, or a drink that sets you in a relaxed mood, go to a place you love, and immerse yourself in what you are about to read. Thank you, with my whole heart, for taking the time to read my adventure. ♥︎

Also, make sure to watch the videos in 720p or 1080p.

Part 1 – New Day, New Strategy

06:50 AM, I make up with one open eye on my phone screen. 9 more minutes before my alarm goes off… But just as I’m about to doze off again, I realize I feel quite awake already and that it would be a pity to not take advantage of that. And so I decide to get up. I must have had a very deep sleep. It’s the quiet, I realize, a quiet you don’t get on a single night in Berlin.

The morning sun shines softly through the tiny window next to my bed and motivates me to start this day. Today shall be an exciting and beautiful day. Today is the first day I’m hiking outside of the city. The plan is to walk out of Altenholz, the village I spent the night in, then to pass by a village called Schilksee and from there to walk along the coastline, all the way to today’s destination – Surendorf (Schwedeneck).

Curious about what the day holds, I prepare my morning coffee, do my stretches and realize that my body feels much better than I expected it would feel. I went to bed so exhausted yesterday, but it seems the good sleep really had an impact. This calms me, as today’s plan is to walk a full 21 km. At almost 30 degrees, exposed to a full sun in some parts of the route.

But I thought of a new strategy yesterday, regarding hair, feet, skin, water intake, break frequency, and am excited to try it out today:

Instead of walking around with my hair half clipped together, I braid it (pretty duh actually and done this way on my last trek 3 years ago, but somehow totally forgotten this time).

I take off shoes and socks, whenever I take a break and cool off my feet.

I wear sunscreen right from the start, reapply it every couple of hours. A cap stays on at all times.

I take a break every 2-3 km, not every 5 km, and I always carry a water bottle in one hand, while I walk, instead of keeping it in my backpack. This way, there’s less weight on my back and it’s easier to take little sips every few hundred meters, to stay well hydrated in between, instead of taking a long, big sip every couple of kilometers, which makes it harder to ration the amount for the rest of the trip. And it somehow feels more effective and hydrating to take little sips regularly than that one big sip after a much longer time.

However it goes, it’s all gonna work out somehow, I tell myself.

I gotta hurry up, I realize, as I see it’s 08:00 AM already, and my check-out time is in an hour. I quickly prepare a porridge that I am not keen on eating at all, but I force myself to, while I pack and start cleaning up the place. I put on some jazz music, which keeps me calm, making my rushed packing feel a bit melodic, at least.

09:05 AM. Oops, five minutes too late. I take one last look at everything, swing the backpack on my back and start walking down the tight stairway of the house. I find my other host, Behnam, whom I’ve had all the messaging contact with, but haven’t met in person yet, standing there, greeting me and asking me if everything was alright. I find him to also be very sweet, just like his wife, Mona. He asks me about my trip, where it started, where it’s heading, and wishes me a nice time. I leave the apartment with a warm feeling around my heart and head out into today’s adventure.

Part 2 – Jazz in the Background

The sun shines through the houses and the trees from a very low angle, casting a glorious golden hue on everything within my sight. It’s indeed a beautiful day.

I happily take my first few steps, walking towards a very tiny forest area to put on my sunscreen, as I didn’t get a chance to do that in the rush of leaving in time for the check-out, and to eat a boiled egg for some energy.

A bench, still wet with morning dew, greets me, and I try to ignore all the spider webs around it, while I swing my backpack onto it. A few steps away, I spot a hidden pathway, which feels like it leads to a corner from heaven or something. I could spend hours lying there and reading a book, but sadly, I gotta get going…

Next stop is the supermarket, an ALDI, where I get myself a pack of cherry tomatoes and a small bottle of water, to have as an extra to the two bottles already in my bag. I am curious to try out the cherry tomatoes as another way to stay hydrated – a tip I read on a hiking blog, in preparation for my trip. I then head out on my official route.

First part of the route runs parallel to a very busy street. These are my least favorite parts, as they’re incredibly noisy due to the traffic. But I agreed with myself that it’s okay to just put on my headphones and listen to music in such areas, especially if it’s going to drain me, like it does now. And so, my beloved Jazz in the Background playlist accompanies me for a few more steps, which proves to be a wonderful idea.

The music gives me a fresh boost of energy and I find myself reaching a good, steady pace after just a couple of minutes. Suddenly, the cars become elements that just whoosh past me, like in a dream, with no power over my well-being whatsoever. And I feel like I am in a dream myself.

Luckily, it’s bit hazy, giving everything I lay my eyes on a beautiful softness. Every few steps, I stop and capture a view that grips my Soul.

A field full of horses completely distracts me off my route (I love horses!). I stop every couple of steps to capture the view from another perspective. I am amused by the way the horses seem to evenly distribute themselves over the field. And I love how little they care that I am standing there like a creep watching them.

A few minutes later, I force myself to come back to reality – you still got about 19 km to walk, girl – and keep walking. I hear the Komoot (a navigation app) navigation lady complain several times in my ear: “You have left the tour. Take a look at the map”, she begs me, but I am in too much of a blissful mood to care and I keep thinking it’s probably just a delay and the app is not syncing with my current position yet.

And then I do take a look at the map. Ooops. I have indeed left the tour. How could this happen. I was supposed to take a left… just about 50 meters back. Oh, that’s not so dramatic! And so I walk a few steps back, crossing the street, and heading into a very densely overgrown hiking path. Oh no. It’s early in the morning, it’s humid, the bushes are very thick… that means: Spider webs.

(Anyone who knows me well will understand right away what that means. Ever since I was a child, I have had a deadly fear of spider webs. Not as much of the spider (who likes spiders anyway?), as of the web. I have not yet found an explanation for it. Here is a very entertaining story of how intense this fear can get and what shape it can take, from my last hike. Scroll all the way to “Stage 5 – Sincerely fucking real terror” 😊)

Okay. I contemplate. I look at the map for alternatives. There seems to be an alternative closeby. I know it doesn’t make sense to try and still walk through this dense path, as I know how paralyzed I will get every few steps I see a spider web and how much time this will waste. Please, oh please, may this other alternative work, I think to myself, as I start walking back on the path I had just walked to reach the exit I missed.

Hi, horses. It’s me again. For the third time. Just passing through… trying to stay cool about it. Because if the other alternative doesn’t work out, I’ll have to take a third one, which is about 3 km longer, and that would suck endlessly. But it’s the way it is… Let’s just see!

I feel a hint of relief, as I reach the alternative path. It’s a very wide, asphalted path, surrounded by the forest, which should mean… no spider webs. Yes! At least not any spider webs cutting through the path. I take advantage of the shade the high trees cast on the path and allow myself my first break.

The cherry tomatoes really prove to be a good idea. They are a tasty snack and do indeed feel like an alternative to water. At least in this moment, when it hasn’t gotten so warm yet. I walk around my spot, enjoying how light I feel without the backpack, and suddenly, I hear a strange sound, like some sort of vehicle I can’t identify. And indeed, some sort of leaf and dust blowing vehicle pulls up from behind the curve of the path. Shocked, I walk back to my backpack, lift it up and start walking away, while the vehicle approaches. The driver lifts up the part which blows away the leafs, as he passes me, and I thank him awkwardly, while clumsily balancing cherry tomatoes, water bottle, headphones between my hands and chest. A couple of seconds later, I stop to re-adjust everything that I carried hectically in the rush, asking myself, why I didn’t just stay where I am. I could’ve just waited till he passes, but oh, well… my awkward shyness was a bit more dominant this time. That’s okay. I should anyway proceed.

Part 3 – Not a Soul, Not a Sound

The path leads through a beautiful forest, and I don’t see a single soul all the time. The forest gets denser at some parts, and I feel some anxiety creeping up on me. I laugh at myself, after realizing I put the music down, to be able to spot the spider webs better. Like when you put the music down to be able to park better. It’s anyway time to listen to the sounds of the forest now, I think.

Indeed, it is very quiet, and I just hear some birds and the sounds of the leaves rustling.

I also spot some horse poop and chuckle, as I realize this comforts me to see. It means someone passed here with a horse a few minutes ago and broke any spider webs that might have been blocking the path. Amusing thoughts, as I start spotting an end to the path…

…amazed at where I suddenly end up. I see a bridge, leading through thick reed, over some sort of a very still body of water. I still can’t quite identify what I see, as I make my way towards it, but I can tell it’s picture-worthy and am already pulling out my camera.

On the way there, I spot a girl with a blue hoodie and white shorts, squatting next to her dog and talking to it in a calming voice, between some bushes, on the left side of the path. Wow. I admire her nonchalance about sitting there, knowing how densely populated with insects such bushes are. Also, what about the mosquitos? Those shorts can’t be suitable for that… but she seems to be a local, so I guess she knows what she is doing. And this just gives me more reason to admire her.

I walk further, finally ending up on that bridge. It feels, as if I entered a time that stood still. Nothing is moving. The water is incredibly still, there is not a single breeze. But luckily, it’s less humid than in the forest. And then I spot some ducks in the distance, excitedly munching their way through a very thick layer of yellowish-green algae.

As I walk down that bridge, I keep looking down, fascinated by the algae, actually fascinated by that whole place.

I decide to sit there for a while and to have my next break. I’m at 5km now, so I allow myself to have a longer break now and to have a snack.

I notice the girl with the blue hoodie is now also sitting on the other end of the bridge, with her dog. She’s immersed in her phone and I barely hear anything from both of them. And so I am able to stay in my own bubble and enjoy the calmness this moment carries. At least, until I hear what sounds like kids in a school yard, screaming and making some sort of collective drumming noise. I can’t fathom what that could possibly be. But it doesn’t bother me as much as it makes me curious. And where could that school possibly be? This whole place is surrounded by nothing but trees, and it’s so hard to believe there’s an actual village just a few steps away.

Immersed in my fascination, I notice I’ve been sitting here for almost half an hour and that I need to get moving. Especially after my phone almost slips out of my hand, almost falling into the water, giving me a mini shock that surely wakes me up for real now. Okay, off we go.

Part 4 – With Every Sip I Dreamt of the Sea

During my hikes, it again and again amazes me how at one moment you could be walking through the most natural, densely grown forest and feel like you’re in the middle of an abandoned jungle, and then suddenly you reach a perfectly asphalted street, with cars and pretty houses, perfectly distributed along the pavement. This was such a moment. Just like that, I am walking down a clean, asphalted pavement, seeing first characteristics of the village I couldn’t believe exists just a few moments ago. Schilksee, here I am.

I notice a bus passing next to me, and as I take a look in its direction, I see a woman rapidly bumping the man next to her with her elbow, pointing towards me, and they both stare at me. Wow, am I that much of a spectacle? How amusing… As agreed with myself before, I stay in observer mode and do not let this unsettle me at all (oh, have we not come a long way, dear Soul?). I keep walking.

The streets are quite empty, most of the people I see are seniors. I see a senior woman, using a rollator, accompanied by a younger man, walking towards me. And as I pass them, I hear the old woman say, literally out of nowhere: “Some just have such nice, smooth legs”, guessing she refers to another woman, who was walking ahead of me and just passed them, with a dress that showed her smooth legs. LOL.

Soon enough, as I walk down a street, I am rewarded with a beautiful view of the Baltic Sea, awaiting me at the end of it. I’m standing on top of a hilly area, so I am reminded a bit of the sea view from Telal, Ain Sokhna, Egypt, which is always such a pleasure to lay eyes on, especially when you are at a much elevated position. In that moment, I miss it.

As it’s quite hazy, the water blends with the sky in a mesmerizing way, entirely blurring the border between the two. It’s very calm, I notice. There are people, but everyone is so quiet. I take a moment to rest on a bench, looking into the distance, re-adjusting my backpack and taking a few closer looks at the route that awaits me. I am surrounded by a few residential houses, some of them have a sea view. Must be lovely to live just a few footsteps away from the sea. A few people walk past me, a jogger, a woman with a big dog, a senior man, a man on a bike. I feel so blissful in the calmness this moment holds.

And then, I get up. There are some stairs leading down to the water every 50 meters or so, as the promenade kind of runs along the top of a small cliff. Some people are sunbathing (without sun), some are swimming, most are just relaxing, immersed in a book or a newspaper. I take in all the impressions with every step I take.

I realize I really need to pee. Luckily, there are bathrooms by the beach every few meters, but horrible signage. I keep walking back and forth, between two signs pointing in the opposite directions, until I realize I must walk down a ramp to get there. And so I do, hoping it will be a functioning and usable bathroom. Sigh, all is fine, I realize, once I get there. It’s a whole container with several stalls and the best thing – it’s for free!

I walk in, curiously observing a man standing outside of the stalls, with the side of my eye. He’s completely in the nude, except for a hat that covers his head, while he’s reading a newspaper, his suitcase open on the ground, with all his stuff exposed (including pans and a pot), as if he’s camping by that place or something. But there is no tent or anything. He stands in a very self-confident pose, and he doesn’t really look up from his newspaper at all. I am amused.

After I finish up, feeling like a relieved newborn, I walk past a little kiosk, about to open for the day, and I hear the two men, who are in the process of opening it, speak Arabic. Oh, the familiarity that keeps visiting me everywhere. I keep contemplating if I should already grab a coffee and snack here or wait till I reach the harbor, which is already within sight, and to check out a café I had marked on my route. I decide to keep going.

I am very fascinated by the harbor, the Olympiazentrum Schilksee. It’s not beautiful at all, but it’s like an everything-in-one harbor, which I later find out exists since 1972.

The architecture feels very heavy to me, very grey and a bit aggressive somehow. But I am so curious about it, never having passed such a kind of harbor before. It contains shops, a hotel, underground parking, cafés, restaurants, a bank, and all kinds of services (pharmacy, waste oil disposal, coin laundromat, engine workshop). And of course, every service you could need for your boat.

After making some photos, I decide to finally grab a much craved coffee and cake here. After some confusion on how to get up there (the café is on a higher floor), I find an elevator and decide to just take that. Some music, the kind you’d hear on your local radio or something, starts playing and amuses me. I never experienced that in Berlin. Maybe everyone would be feeling slightly lighter, instead of being yelled at by the elevator lady voice every floor you reach.

I reach the upper floor. The place is totally empty, except for the terrace of the Café Backbord, which is the one I am looking for. I walk through the occupied tables on the terrace, into the café, which is almost entirely empty, a bit shy at first, as it couldn’t be any more clear that I am not from here, but then immediately feeling at ease, after a very sweet and cheerful waiter greets me in a warm way. I walk to the display and find a wide choice of cakes awaiting me – cheese cakes, chocolate, berries, lemon tart, nuts, and whatnot – which the waiter happily recites for me. Hmmmm. I settle for Kalter Hund/Hedgehog slice, a very chocolatey-biscuity German sweet, that I love. And of course – a black coffee.

I wait, feeling warm and excited about my well-deserved treat, as the waiter prepares the coffee and packs the cake in a bit of a hectic motion, as if he’s constantly confused about something. Suddenly, he turns to me, and asks me if I don’t want at least a bit of milk? No sugar? As usual, I say no, with a sincere smile. He hands me the coffee cup and then lifts his finger remembering something. Do I not want a cover for the cup? Nah, I’ll just drink it right away, I reassure him. With a lot of carefulness, he wraps the cake for me. I pay and head out, thanking him a lot, wishing a nice day, and off I go.

Back to the elevator, back a few steps into the direction I just came from, I walk back to an area with some possibilities for sitting, with a view on a sandy area of the beach. The sky is still hazy, so the sun is not too rough. I choose to sit on a wooden block, big enough that you could lay down on it, if you like. Backpack aside, I choose to take off my shoes and socks, stretch my legs and to have my cherished coffee break, observing all that is happening around me.

I receive a message from my next AirBnb host, confirming that check-in is flexible and I can arrive whenever, which relieves me so much. That means I can take my time with this break and any other breaks awaiting me on this hike. And I guiltlessly do just that.

I enjoy watching the mundane happenings take shape around me in every way. I watch a senior man on an electric wheelchair, taking a break under a tree, looking around. I watch a woman and her daughter (probably between 7 and 9 years old or something), who is incredibly talented aerobically, doing all sorts of moves in the sand and asking her mother to look at her every five seconds. The mother tries to stay engaged, but you can see she really needs some space to read her book.

I watch enormous seagulls carefully looking for crumbs and awaiting that one moment of unattentiveness to steal away someone’s food. I watch a man accompanying his son by a swing. I see two older women sitting on another wooden block, having a lively conversation, and I see a man swimming in the distance… and I enjoy every sip of coffee I take and every bite of the cake, which has become incredibly messy, due to the chocolate melting in the heat.

Another thing that amazes me is the endless quiet, despite so many things happening. Everyone is so calm. Everything so peaceful. Can’t these moments last forever?

Part 5 – Scenes From A Summer Movie

After around half an hour of peace, I get moving, deciding to fasten my pace now, after my long energy recharge. And I do. I walk past all the boats. I see some boats getting prepared, being moved, being cleaned. Boats in different colors, sizes, ages, shapes.

I remember the Yacht Club in Cairo, where I used to have lunch with my parents what felt like every Friday for a while, suddenly feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over me.

After walking one more kilometer, I see more and more people, people who don’t have much to do with boats. People taking walks, joggers, cyclists, and lots of people sunbathing by the water, in every possible spot imaginable. I see a couple sunbathing on gravel ground next to a boat, in a place that looks so uncomfortable and hot. I see people lying down on their towels spread out on rocks, immersed in their books. Some sit between bushes of grass, on dunes. Where there is sand, people sit on the sand. Accompanied by little umbrellas in every possible color. Some don’t have umbrellas. I am amazed at their tolerance for the really strong, burning sun on their skin. But all in all, I’m very warmed up by the mood. With music in my ears, I feel like I’m floating between all that is happening, my body moving in a comfortable rhythm, almost trance-like, pushing the exhaustion way into the background. And it’s all so colorful, like in some summer movie.

I see many older women walk in duos, and I unintentionally pick up on parts of their conversations that usually have to do with food. One woman tells her friend she checks Chefkoch (a very popular German website full of cooking and baking recipes), and another woman talks about the meatballs with Béchamel, which her friend cooks. I am amazed at the energy these women have, several of them accompanying my hike for 2-3km.

I enjoy the asphalted path, which makes walking in a steady pace very easy. Now the sun shines from the South, falling onto my back, which makes it a bit more comfortable to walk. And the blue water to my right is so beautiful, as the sun makes it shimmer.

I reach a spot with little stone “sculptures” and benches facing the vast sea, positioned in the sun. And I need a break. So I choose to sit down on a grass area in the shade, looking at the benches from behind. The grass is so cold compared to everything else and cools me off in an amazing way. It even gets a little chilly. But this cooldown is exactly what I need.

The path is very busy, with people regularly walking or cycling past me. Two older women sit on one of the two benches, and two other women sit on the remaining bench. All of them immersed in a very lively talk, which I don’t hear anything from. However, suddenly, one of the older women starts laughing uncontrollably, with such intensity. Every time she tries to stop, she bursts out laughing again. And then, after a while, she gets up, and as she and her friend are about to walk away, she turns to me and says, while still laughing: “So, tell me, the Earth is flat, isn’t it? (laughs) And the mountains would fall off, if it wasn’t, right? (laughs)” I awkwardly mumble something I don’t remember, trying to match her energy, as they walk away. So that’s what was so funny! She must not spend much time on social media…

Another 10km left. Halfway through! I can make it. I keep walking, noticing it is getting a little emptier, as I move away from that village. It is so sunny, which I especially notice, as the route takes on a curve towards the East, making the sun shine on my right side again, instead of on my back. But it’s okay. I keep walking, knowing I am about to reach the lighthouse, at the “tip” of the land.

And before that, I find a tiny piece of “forest” and a bench protected by the trees, with a wonderful view over the sea. I sit down and take a longer snack break this time, making some notes about all I’ve experienced today, before I forget anything.

I watch a woman’s silhouette, while she walks along the beach, carefully looking at the stones on the ground. She never picks anything up, though, so I never get the answer as to what she’s looking for. The whole time I’m sitting there, I see her continue her search. Maybe she’s just admiring the stones.

Time to continue. I walk the few steps left to reach the lighthouse. The area gives you the possibility for a beautiful panorama view. It’s emptier than I expected it to be, and I realize I actually prefer all the other views, which I walked by before, much more. So I shortly capture a couple of photos and continue my way. I can see the cliffs in the distance, very keen on getting there.

I walk towards a mesmerizing view, thankful with every step I take, that I get to see this with my own eyes. Amazed at the beauty this Earth holds. Sad that this is not accessible to everyone.

A few steps later, I walk up a cliff, into a thick forest, relieved to be surrounded by trees and some shade. A woman passes me with a scooter. She suddenly stops and looks very attentively behind her. I don’t understand what could be grabbing her attention so much, and I start to think that she’s looking at me, until I see a big black dog sprinting from the distance. It is running in such a straight line, with such a tunnel view, that it only avoids running into me in the last second, because I get out of its way. It runs to her and she drives down the hill, with the dog chasing her. So that’s what she was looking at…

After I reach the end of the first part of the cliff, around 14km, I realize I am getting tired and walk down to the sand to rest a little. I am now very close to the water. Sheltered by the shade of a small bush with little pink flowers behind me, I lay down a plastic bag to sit on, which I only coincidentally remember I have and take a few deep breaths in. I watch the people walk by the water, try to mentally recharge and get up to continue after a few minutes again.

Getting up to walk the second part of the cliff, which I know is entirely exposed to the sun, with no trees, only fields, I spot a sign, which states that access is prohibited. It’s the nesting period of the larks, and they should not be disturbed, it says. Apparently, the official hiking path, the E1, which I am supposed to take, goes along the water, underneath the cliffs, it claims. Ignoring this can end up with a hefty fine of several thousand euros. Signed by the mayor. Okay, that would end up to be a very expensive trip.

It annoys and confuses me so much. I contemplate and contemplate. If I walk underneath the cliff, I know it will be double the energy, because I know walking on sand slows you down incredibly. On the other hand, underneath the cliff there is shade… As I see no one else taking the path over the cliff, I decide to obey to the clearly very hiker-friendly mayor and to walk back. Underneath the cliff it is.

Part 6 – Leave the Horror Here

What I didn’t know before and realize after a few steps, is that the air is very, very humid underneath the cliff. And there is not a single breeze to cool me off. The air feels very stuffy. And I am sweating and sweating. But what makes up for it is the amazing view. And that there is almost no one else. Which is always nice, and at the same time a little worrying. What if something goes wrong or the path gets cut off?

But I decide to focus on the solitude that surrounds me in this moment, and to embrace the challenge. The challenge of navigating through the changing terrain. At the beginning, I find myself walking very close to the water, further away from the cliff itself, basically where the waves touch the sand, because this is the most comfortable area to walk on, and the sand right underneath the cliff is way too soft. Then, the sand by the water gets too soft, and I move a bit further, walking over dry algae instead. Then, the whole beach gets very rocky, and I have to balance myself over rocks of all sorts of shapes and sizes, which requires a very deep focus with every step.

However, with some pride and inner strength, I notice that I have indeed grown stronger over the years, my legs and my whole body, and that balancing myself has become something very natural to me.

I especially notice that in a moment when my foot slips off a rock, but my body just counter-acts the slip automatically and I balance within a millisecond, without getting the chance to even feel a shock. Wow. And I acknowledge the investment I made in my hiking shoes back then being so worth it, as they have the best grip ever (except on wet, slippery ground). The first and only hiking shoes I ever bought myself. 70 euros, discounted. Back then, feeling like a fortune to me, which I could barely afford. But gladly realizing the amount of joy the buy brought me, not regretting it for a single day.

I start to feel a little light-headed due to the stuffy air, but I don’t want to take another break yet. Maybe some music will help. I put on Spanish Sahara by Foals, a song that always holds such power over me, especially if I listen to it by the sea. It tells me to leave the horror here, forget the horror here. (The video holds such symbolic meaning to me, especially on this trip.) And with the bliss and power it makes me feel, I walk the steps I need to walk, and push myself through, as required, to make it through this part.

Suddenly, what feels like it’s out of nowhere, I spot a woman walking down some stairs in the distance, towards the water. Never in my life have I experienced the relief of seeing another human being, like when I’m hiking. That means there is an exit here, that means I wouldn’t have to walk all the way back!, I think. Because worst case scenario, if I end up not finding an exit, I’d have to either attempt climbing up a very steep cliff, probably fall and break an arm, or walk all the way back. And we don’t want either of these scenarios to happen.

The woman sits down on some rock, and I greet her while passing her. She seems a bit unhappy that there is someone else here, too, and I totally get that. I keep on walking, keen on getting further as well, but after a few steps, I realize that the stuffiness is getting to me and I’m starting to see stars. Okay. Let’s just sit down, while I’m still feeling fine, shall we?

And so I do. On some random rock, I allow myself to lay down, backpack aside, looking towards the sky in relief that I’m taking a break. It’s so quiet. I allow myself several minutes of pure rest, surrounded by the sound of waves, the cold rocks, and the silhouette of the woman in the distance. A military helicopter randomly passes over the water, with a soldier dangling their feet from the door (yes), ruining the quiet, but fortunately, it’s over within a few seconds. I realize with some curiosity, that the rocks are quite cold, and I hold one onto my face to cool it down. Which also works great on my neck, my collarbones, my wrists. Wow, I learned a new hiking skill!

Part 7 – All For The Soul

Luckily, just a few hundred meters later, I reach a very high stairway, leading to the top of the cliff. As I see some people coming down and going up, I figure access is not prohibited anymore. I reach the stairs with what feels like strings pulling against my feet (so tired), and I walk up, feeling like I’m growing a year older with every step I take, sweating insanely. Just keep going.

And then, I reach the top. And I turn around. And I look at all that beauty. A glimpse of paradise, in all directions I could possibly look. And I let myself fall on a bench, again taking a break, admitting utter exhaustion, while my Soul falls in love with the beauty. It’s all for you, dear Soul.

After a few minutes, I start walking again. I am completely exposed to the sun, and it’s very hot. I decide to take a break the next chance I get. But till then, I walk through fields and fields of flowers, beauty surrounding every meter I cover. And despite the heat and the exhaustion and the craving to finally arrive, I stop at what feels like every meter to try and capture it, with not a single picture doing it the justice it deserves.

I encounter an old man and what looks like a teenage girl, as I walk. They keep stopping at some bushes and identifying some flowers in a sweet way. I hear her telling him with a sweet laugh: “Schafgarbe, you told me it’s called, not Schafsgarbe, right?” It amuses me that she, as a German person, also makes that mistake. It also took me a while to realize that the name of that specific flower, the Schafgarbe (achillea, in English), she is referring to is pronounced without an s. And I still forget that sometimes.

I spot another bench. Yes! Shoes and socks off, I lay myself down, feet spread out on a wooden box… which breaks the very instant my feet touch it. Oops. Luckily no one saw this.

Another beautiful view, some shade, I recharge and try to put myself into the mindset that I’m going to make this somehow. I still have about 5km left…

I take a look at the map and am relieved to know there is the option to take a bus in Dänisch-Nienhof – a village I’m about to reach – if I can’t make it further. I already walked 17,5km after all, I tell myself. And it’s so hot!

But maybe it will get better, once I reach the forest nearby. So I manage to push myself, get up and to keep walking. The path is getting a little busier again now, as there is a street leading to the spot I am in. I walk a bit further, still admiring the landscape, despite my tiredness, keen on reaching those woods I can already see in the distance.

And then I reach the forest, first passing three women, who are walking super slow and talking a lot. I greet them and continue on my way. Once I reach the forest, I immediately feel the relief of being in the shade again. But then… I see spider webs, veeery close to the path. That means no one has walked through this forest in the last couple of hours. Why, oh why?! I am so confused, as it seemed on Komoot like the path is one that is taken a lot.

I still try to walk a few steps further, but then I reach a part, where I can see a spider web kind of hovering over the path. I could just duck down and walk through… But then I realize I would still have another 3km to walk through that forest and I neither have the time nor the energy to do this at every spider web that passes me. Gaaaaaaaaaah, this is so annoying.

Counting in the risk that at some point it could get so dense and bad that I would have to walk all the way back. Nope! Might as well just walk all the way back now.

And so, I walk back, luckily only 300 meters till the next exit, leading away from the shore, into the village Dänisch-Nienhof, which is where I’m taking the bus from. I could walk it from here instead, but I’m already at 18,5km, and it’s getting dark, and I’m tired. So I just calmly walk to the bus station.

Part 8 – A Day Passes Revue

It’s golden hour, and just like in the morning, a glorious golden hue falls on the trees, the grass and the fields. I pass by a horse stable on my way, watching a woman riding, being guided through her training by another woman. On the other side, I admire the beautiful, healthy horses, standing around and eating. The day is ending where it started, I realize.

I make my way to the bus station, realizing it will come in another 20 minutes or so. I sit myself down on the ground, away from the spider web infested seating area, which doesn’t seem to bother a woman who talks very loudly and aggressively on the phone. I can see she’s had a few drinks. Well, I’m just as happy on the grass.

I am in disbelief at where the day started, and where I am now. I let the images flow like snapshots in my head – my host waiting downstairs, while leaving the last apartment, the jazz soundtrack to my first steps, the girl with the blue hoodie, the coffee and cake, the old woman laughing uncontrollably. Wow.

The bus arrives, and I get on it with another girl. It’s only the two of us. I look out the window, at everything passing me in incredible speed, relieved that I didn’t choose to still walk all of this distance. My God, that would’ve been bad.

Five minutes later, I finally get off at Surendorf, the village I’m staying in. It’s 07:15 PM. I realize I’m very close to a supermarket – a Netto – and I decide to just head there to get something to eat, instead of ordering food, which is what my plan would’ve been. I really take my time choosing, so relieved that I have basically arrived.

I pay and stop for a minute outside in the parking lot to put the stuff into my backpack, distracted by the loud laughter of a couple sitting on the pavement, a few meters away from me. I see that they look at me, staring at me provocatively, especially the woman. And just as the wolf inside me is about to attack, the very tired… horse? in me silences it on time. Not today. I am way too tired for a meaningless fight. It’s clear they’re bullies with a lot of time at their hands and I’m not letting them feast on my energy. So I give them a mean look instead and walk away.

Finally, I reach my shelter for the night. The sun has already set and the sky has a very navy tone to it. Anne, my host, greets me with a lot of warmth and an incredible amount of curiosity about my hike. I am very honored and at the same time disappointed that I am unable to match that level of excitement and to share all I would have loved to share about my experiences as a solo hiker, keeping my answers way too vague. But I try my best. She’s amazed that I am doing this on my own and asks me what it’s like. She is seriously contemplating doing that next year, she says. I say that I can definitely recommend it. And I tell her a bit about my first hike, three years ago.

For the second time today, I hear “you are so lucky with this weather”, and I tell her that I thought the same, but that it was actually too hot. But now… I guess, thinking of the amount of pictures I could make and the breaks I could basically have anywhere, at any time, without any worry of getting wet, that in the end, despite the sweat, the pain, the stuffiness, yes, that was indeed a lot of luck. :)

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Today’s completed route:

Trip stats:
approx. 20,5 km – 4 hrs 36 minutes (in motion) – 4,5 km/h (average speed)

If you’re interested to see the path I walked on komoot, follow this link:

https://www.komoot.de/tour/1294552276