It was mid-September when we sat there—in the middle of a Fall cold-spell that blanketed Berlin—lamenting the early end of a hot summer. The city had traded 30° days for 12° days all too quickly and it felt like we were staring at the cold darkness that is Berlin winter right in the teeth. We couldn’t accept this was the best weather that we’d have for the next 6 months so we did the only logical thing despite the souring weather: we made the unwise decision to travel North.
I’d heard of a cheap weekend train ticket from Berlin to the Baltic Sea from a coworker so we decided that if we were going to be cold no matter what, at least we could see some open water while we shivered. As we looked out of the train window a few weeks later it didn’t take long to transition from vibrant Berlin to the dark, foggy, flat landscape of former East Germany. We zipped past decrepit train stations and neglected roads on our way north, unsure of what lay ahead. Despite our low hopes, the weather went from near-freezing and overcast to crisp but sunny while we sat in the warm safety of the train.
Four hours later we clambered off of the train and checked into our hotel before we dropped our things off and headed for the water. Olena and I ambled along the jetty that protects the harbor and watched the sunset with the lighthouse to our backs before we stepped onto an old boat in search of a hearty dinner. As we took our seats an older gentleman leaving the table recommended number 11: Baltic flounder. After we ordered said flounder and a beer we settled into our seats.
The boat rocked us back and forth gently while we waited for, and then devoured, our food. Suddenly exhausted with our stomachs full of food and drink we paid and stepped outside to head back to the hotel. And of course that was when it started to rain. Hard. We bundled our jackets around ourselves to stave off the wind and water and hustled back through town as the cold rain fell through the darkness.
After that first rain the weather held all weekend, which gave us the chance to comfortably explore Jasmund National Park all day without getting drenched. We popped in and out of the ancient Beech forest as we walked down the coast towards Sassnitz, taking our time in the sun and hustling through the shade to stay warm. We walked down the steep stairs to the rocky beach below the cliffs and wandered up and down the coast along with the few other off-season tourists.
As we stumbled back into town I glanced at my watch and noticed how late it was. No wonder I was starving. We went straight to the harbor and stepped onto the first boat-restaurant we could find. The sun set across the harbor as we scarfed down battered shrimp and fish with fries and beers. Despite the cold we stayed on the upper deck of the boat until after the sun had set before we called it a night and made our way to the hotel.
The next morning we bought tickets for a boat tour that took passengers 45 minutes up the coast to look at the cliffs from the water. It smelled like diesel fumes inside the cabin so we stood outside at the bow as the cold sea air swept past and blew our coats around our faces. The weather was crap—overcast and cold—so the cliffs didn’t look majestic, but they still looked impressive from sea-level.
We stepped off the boat and realized that we had 4 hours to kill until our train so I searched for an earlier option on my phone.
“6 minutes,” I said to Olena, “the next train is in 6 minutes, can we make it?”
She swore. Sassnitz is a small town but we were at least 10 minutes from the station. I thought for half a second and started to jog towards the station as Olena yelled after me.
“I’m not waiting 3 hours in this town, there’s nothing left to do,” I yelled behind me.
She threw her bag over her shoulder and ran after me with an evil look in her eye.
Somehow we made it to the train with two minutes to spare. Either we underestimated how fast we can run or how small the town is. We plopped into our seats and huffed and puffed while we stripped our jackets off—just as the train pulled out of the station.
After the hour long train ride to Stralsund we still had 4 hours to kill until our regional train to Berlin. We explored for an hour before we succumbed to a cozy coffee shop on the main square and pulled out our books.
Later, after we made our way to the train station and found our platform we heard a voice on the loudspeaker. Our train was cancelled. After five minutes of despair we learned that an inconvenient alternative only got us into Berlin 2 hours late, so we pulled out our books and settled in to wait.