It’s a blast from the past.
Two weeks on the white beach. Playing volleyball. If you feel like it. Reading a book. If you feel like it. An almost turquoise sea, blue sky above. And besides that, seashells and little white balls of salami. And a slice of cucumber.
That’s how it always was. Back then. When I was little.
Because I’ve been going to the Baltic Sea beach ever since I was a baby. I was born just around the corner, and every year (through the East German electronics company where my father worked) we had a permanent use of a caravan with an awning.
Always the same campground. Always the same caravan.
Back then, the washrooms consisted of little more than a hard, uneven concrete floor and a faucet that only ran cold water. When it rained or thundered (and in my memory, that happened often), half the campground was flooded. It’s never stopped me from going camping even now, but I can somewhat imagine that my parents swore off it for good.
The Baltic Sea and its beaches, on the other hand—those have become a staple of our family life. We don’t go every year, but we do go once every two years. And that’s still ridiculously infrequent, since it’s only a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Berlin.
I’d go so far as to say: almost nowhere else in Europe is the sand so white, the grains so fine, or the water so beautifully clear. It’s also less salty than the North Sea or the Mediterranean. So when you step back onto land after that one refreshing dip (which does take a bit of effort, because the water was sooooooo cold…), you can just lie in the sun without a white salt film on your skin.
You hardly notice the tides here either. The sand you’re lying on is still just as dry the next morning. High and low tide: here, they’re negligible.
And the beach is often bordered by the forest. With old trees bent by the wind; hidden behind them here and there, a beautiful (chic) hotel and a few vacation homes. Not overbuilt, but constructed with taste and care after the fall of the Wall.
We didn’t camp this time. Now we rent cottages where everyone fits right in and where, in the evening, we can stretch our legs on the terrace when we’re tired.
We were only away for a week. I couldn’t read as many books on the beach as I used to (since a baby and a 4-year-old do require some attention…), but I enjoyed it just as much.
Let’s actually do what we so often plan to do: go back there soon!