Sylt in November
Sylt in November. Gray clouds, rough sea, lots of wind, and rain. That’s how I imagine (late) autumn on the North Sea. But, and this is also part of the truth, in this season, the island exudes a calmness that quickly transfers to me. So, in case the train brings me safely and somewhat punctually – which at least succeeds on the way there – a relaxed educational week awaits me. In my previous short visits to Sylt, I mostly explored the island by bike. This time, I’m on foot, and I must say: the slower I move on the island, the more there is to discover. To my delight, Christel Lechner’s Everyday People are also on the move in Wennigstedt. I got to know these unassuming and terribly normal-looking concrete figures in Braunschweig this summer. I am very much looking forward to a reunion on the North Sea. And yes, besides extensive beach walks, Sylt has more to offer. Unfortunately, the stormy weather in the second half of my stay throws a wrench into the works – it is indeed November. But, of course, that’s also a reason to come back and explore the rest of the island on foot.
Wenningstedt-Braderup
Every season has its own charm – so does autumn. A study vacation takes me to the island of Sylt, more precisely to Wenningstedt-Braderup. Here, I set up my tent for a week. I can hardly believe it, but the train, despite two transfers, brings me to Westerland on time. From there, I take the bus to Wenningstedt, a stone’s throw away for 3.20 euros. Upon arrival, I make sure to stow my luggage and head straight to the beach. The sun will set soon, and I want to see the North Sea once again in daylight because today the sun is shining. In what feels like three minutes, I’m on the promenade of Wennigstedt-Braderup. Immediately, I smell the salty water and inhale the good air deeply into my lungs. Yes, that’s it, the North Sea feeling. A sense of freedom flows through me. Here, I also encounter the first Everyday People: a couple under the shower on the way to the water, a gentleman with binoculars, and another couple lying in the dunes. Oh, and then there are the three graces with their surfboards. As I pass by the ladies, I reach the wooden pier, which takes me directly to the beach and thus to the water.
Wave Power
I am fascinated by the power of the water and the play of the waves. How the water slowly rolls onto the beach, pours into a wave in the sand, and then slowly withdraws. I am also captivated by the aftermath of this interplay. In addition to many shells in various colors and shapes, there are the foam crowns left on the beach. The glass bubbles seem to still breathe, like from an overflowing washing machine, or will the Little Mermaid be washed ashore as beachcombing? I am already captivated by the magic of the North Sea. Unfortunately, by the time I have almost reached Westerland, it is already so dark that I have to turn back. Also, dinner is at 6 p.m. But don’t worry, I will come back.
Red Cliff Hike
For the next day, I already have a goal in mind: the “Red Cliff Hike” from Wenningstedt to Kampen. A cliff hike promises adventure, and that’s exactly my thing. It starts during the lunch break. The path runs on wooden planks and through the dunes. The highlight is the continuous view of the beach and the sea. In addition to the breathtaking view, walking in the soft sand, the hike has another highlight: at the end of the route, the “Uwe Dune” beckons, the highest elevation on Sylt at 52.5 meters. The ascent is not quite easy in the strong wind, but here too, the view from Kampen to Westerland is enticing. In clear weather and sunshine, you can surely see much more. Unfortunately, my lunch break is slowly coming to an end, so I won’t make it to the “city center” of Kampen today. On my way back, I stop above Uncle Johnny’s beach restaurant and take a photo of the banner on the building wall: Faith, Love, and Hope are written on it in both High German and East Frisian.
Into Chic Kampen
On the second day, I use the lunch break for a beach walk from Wenningstedt to Westerland. It’s low tide. In the sand, channels have formed, slowly tracing their paths through the sand and swelling enough that they can no longer be crossed. I spend some time in the city center of Westerland. I must admit that the main town of the island doesn’t appeal to me as much. So, I choose the way back via the beach and reach Wenningstedt-Braderup at sunset. In the lunch break on the third day, I aim for the chic Kampen as a hiking destination. The wind has picked up, it is becoming stormy, and this may be my last hike today. I first come to the Friesian chapel via the village pond in Wenningstedt. I take a look inside the place of devotion and am surprised by its simple beauty. I really like the ceiling with the painted wooden panels. I consider the discovery of this gem as an event that would probably have eluded me during a rapid bike tour. Right next door are the Sölring Museum and the Neolithic grave Denghoog. Unfortunately, I lack the time for this cultural unit, but I add both to my mental to-do list.
The Sylt Legend Forest
When I reach Kampen, I continue towards the center of the village. The wind is really strong now. It pulls me back towards the sea because the view is so beautiful. But the closer I get to the North Sea, the stronger the storm becomes. Eventually, I turn around because time is pressing again. However, I think that I might come back tomorrow. On the way back, I notice a painted stone by the roadside. I come closer to read the inscription. I am in front of the Sylt Legend Forest. This comes in handy now because in this forest, the trees protect against the wind. And here, I encounter, among other things, a ghost ship, the Puken, and Ekke Nekkepenn. Shapes I didn’t know before. On the Wenningstedt side of the forest, I come out at the campsite. From there, I go back to the clear beach via the village pond.
When the Storm Blows Dreams Away
On the next day, I try my luck again during the lunch break and head towards Kampen. The wind has become really fierce by now. However, what’s even more unpleasant is the rain, which, due to the fresh breeze, lashes from the side and quickly soaks my left side. I fight my way to the next stop and decide to take the bus back to Wenningstedt. Too bad, but that’s how it is. Overnight, the storm intensifies, so on the last day of the study vacation, I just want to get home quickly.
Adventurous Train Journey
While my journey there was completely relaxed, my fellow travelers could tell a different story. Some of them had stood on the tracks for two hours or the booked train didn’t run at all. And since a burnt child is known to shy away from the fire, we want to outsmart the legendary train delays on the way back. Three hours before the scheduled departure, we take the local train from Westerland to Hamburg Altona. The train is bursting at the seams. An older gentleman, occupying a whopping four seats with himself and his luggage, cannot be persuaded to give me a seat. After Niebüll, it becomes a bit emptier, so we can finally sit together. An hour later, it gets really crowded at the Heide station. A large group of HSV fans gets on the train, heavily laden with coolers full of beer and, of course, a blaring boombox. Well, Bravo! Now the aisles are also occupied, and the beer level rises quickly. Unfortunately, I have to go to the toilet. I ponder for a solid fifteen minutes whether I want to subject myself to it and make my way through the fan mile. Then I just dare.
After three hours, we finally reach the destination station Hamburg Altona. Now we have a good 2.5 hours before the journey continues. Initially, I notice various train cancellations on the overview board. My connection does not seem to be affected yet. We treat ourselves to a coffee break before hitting the tracks again. I am sitting in my train on time at 6:44 p.m. A look at the DB app tells me that I did everything right. My “actual” train, which left Westerland at 3:20 p.m., did not make it to Hamburg Altona. But too soon to rejoice, because my current train departs from the station already four minutes late. Initially not a big deal because I have a 17-minute transfer time in Hanover. However, as it should be, the train manages to extend the four-minute delay to twenty minutes. My app still shows that my connection in Hanover is also delayed. So, there is still hope. The announcement on the train assures me that the train to Leipzig is waiting for us. For a whole three minutes, I am happy, then a second announcement comes. Unfortunately, the train to Leipzig cannot wait after all, and we are asked to take the slow train to Braunschweig instead. I can’t believe it. I have been on the road for over eight hours, and now I am supposed to take the local train? I just think: Women on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
When the Train Conductor is Mistaken
Completely disillusioned, I leave the train in Hanover. At first, I consider getting something to eat. Then I follow a hunch and go to platform No. 10, where my train to Leipzig would have left. And behold, the train has also accumulated more delay and is supposed to roll in in a minute. I can hardly believe it. Should I just be happy now or be angry with the train conductor because he almost ruined the trip for me? Anyway, only the result counts. Although I arrive at my station with a delay, what are ten minutes when I can avoid the slow train. All’s well that ends well.
