At this moment, the Baltic states are in some sort of touristy limbo: Certainly not an insider tip anymore, Latvia is still far from being overrun by large tourist groups.
Although Riga is a modern and forward-looking metropolis, Latvia’s entrancing capital preserves proudly its cultural identity, traditions, and a melancholic charm.
Since Latvia, together with the other Baltic states Lithuania and Estonia, was part of the Soviet Union till 1991, these states stagnated pretty much unnoticed by the western world behind the iron curtain.
Estonia’s capital Tallinn cannot be described with a handful of corny attributes and some stock catchphrases.
For the standard categories, this city is too diverse, its past too changeful, its faith too inconsistent, its present too dynamic, and its future too promising: A hub between the poles of history and creativity.
Estonia is the northernmost of the three Baltic States. Culturally and language-wise, there are close relations with Finland, historically there are multiple cultural ties to Germany through the German Baltic states.
Somehow the ravishing city of Lübeck has always reminded me of Venice: An innocently cute and relatively small city that used to possess such a political influence and economic power – reaching all over Europe and beyond.
Although Lübeck has incredibly beautiful buildings and alleys, seven church towers, three Nobel prize winners and world-famous marzipan, it does not suffer from destructive over-tourism. I don’t want to change that, however, I’d like to show you around one of Germany’s most ravishing cities.
While international tourism to Germany is increasing, visitors rather stick to the clichés like beer and Lederhosen at Munich and a cruise on the river Mosel; or they hang out at the hip capital Berlin – instead of enjoying Island Hopping in Germany.
I guess that might be the reason why many people believe Germany is landlocked and don’t think about long coasts, two seas, and about 80 islands.
However, that’s exactly what Germany’s north has to offer – and many fascinating phenomenons like the tideland that comes with it. As a matter of fact, Germany’s shoreline is longer than the Portuguese one.
So what are you waiting for? Join me on my island hopping…in Germany!
“Why don’t you just come back in July?”, asks Kim, the representative at Fehmarn Tourismus, a savvy planner and organizer and as cute as a button. “We’d have a camper van at your disposal, this way, you could experience the island from a genuine, more rustic side”. “Oh….oh….kay, let me get back to you”.
I’ve had a soft spot for the Northgerman Island of Fehmarn for the longest time: Beaches, Breezes, Birds, and endless fields of Brassica Napus – I don’t really have to explain why on this island in the Baltic sea Plan B is the Best Plan, do I?
Brassica Napus – translates to rape in English, a term I can hardly sell you in a positive way. However, let the endless fields of bright yellow speak for themselves.
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