Trip 38 — Usedom Walk

Day 6: Balm to Usedom town via the Lieper and Usedomer Winkel
Saturday, 18 November 2023

Today: 61050 steps/46.24 km/28.73 mi/8h 21m Total: 217310 steps/166.71 km/103.59 mi/31h 0m

The way west from the Hotel Balmer See was directly behind the golf course, but I didn't realize it until I'd detoured through town. A rough track merged into the main road west, and I passed the church in Morgenitz, where a crew was cheerfully maintaining the grounds and wished me a good morning.

It rained for about a half-hour, but then there was some blue sky and even bright sunshine throughout the day. A couple of rainbows appeared, small arcs but one quite wide. In Krienke I took the back roads into the forest; ample signposts kept me on track. There was some mud: it was easily skirted, but it slowed me down.

"Split pace: twelve minutes and three seconds per kilometer," MapMyWalk announced.

I haven't stayed anywhere near my usual pace on this trip; there have been far too many kilometers over 12 minutes — my target is ten. I sped up and promptly started swishing into mud.

"All right, all right, all right," I said, taking my time again.

At Liepe I rejoined the main road, such as it were — not a lot of traffic comes this way. This bulge of land, the Lieper Winkel, terminated at Warthe. Cattle eyed me on the way in, chickens could be heard on a back road, and horses saw me out. Like most villages in the area, Warthe was taken over by the Swedes after the Thirty Years' War until it reverted to Prussian rule almost a century later.

Warthe's school was closed in 1973, and its post office in 1990. But it still has bus service (perhaps to bring children to learn elsewhere, if there are any children in tiny Warthe), and its bus shelter was a good place for a break. The sun was strong, and it was even warm enough for me to take off my jacket for a few minutes. A friendly couple came by on bikes and we wished each other a good day.

I took a path along the water — this is where the Achterwasser and the strait called the Peenestrom meet — and through the village of Quilitz, which dates from 1317, about a century older than Warthe. These villages and others I'd pass today had a few dozen comfortable-looking, well-kept houses, some with turfed roofs. Often the dogs would see me before I saw them, and their barking would echo. They were all secured behind fences.

I saw a few people on the trails, some with dogs or biking. I was glad to have some company.

Having looped around the Lieper Winkel, I rejoined the road in Rankwitz, and the familiar broad sidewalk brought me to a restaurant called Zur Alten Fischräucherei — the Old Fish Smokehouse. I didn't particularly need a meal, but I needed a rest, and what better place?

It was next to the harbor and operated a market in addition to a restaurant. I had a marvelous trout and noticed that the party of four behind me was speaking American English. I'd overheard them comparing types of mayonnaise — "I love, love, love Miracle Whip" versus "I'm a Hellmann's guy" — but once they moved on (the best kind of mayonnaise is none) I became curiouser about what they were doing here. One couple from Vermont was visiting the other in Berlin.

"You're lucky," one of them said. "We've had great weather this week."

I took it for sarcasm but then realized he meant it.

"Really. It's not too cold." I had to agree with that; it might have been below freezing. "And the sun is out today. But tomorrow it will rain all day." I've learned to keep the poncho handy.

The Berlin couple had brought their dog. "Her name's Lila," one of them said. "Like 'Lila tov.'"

He acknowledged my recognition of the phrase for "Good night" in Hebrew. "Two Jews," he said.

It was already 2:30 and I still had nine kilometers to go before reaching the town of Usedom on the eponymous island. Once again I was going to be fighting the early sunset; it's been the most dispiriting aspect of this trip, far more than the rain. I get to a place and have no chance to explore it because it's already dark.

My trusty sidewalk didn't exist south of the restaurant, but there was yet another leaf-carpeted forest trail. The road had a fair amount of traffic and I didn't want to deal with it for the next hour and a half. I took a chance on the unsigned trail.

Not knowing whether I was heading the right way and the need to get out of the forest before dark inspired me to walk faster. The paved road was heading inland; this trail was hugging the Peenestrom. If the trail went all the way through, it might save me quite a bit of time.

Eventually I found trail signs confirming that I was heading the right way, but the distance to Usedom town was a couple of kilometers longer than I expected. I tried to hurry even more; with so much thick leaf cover, the trail wasn't slippery, but there were a few muddy patches that slowed me down.

The tangle of trails here was complex. Twice I went the wrong way and turned back. I found the signs again and realized why the numbers were so high: They were directing me along a winding path by the Peenestrom. On the outskirts of Usedom, at a lookout by the Peenestrom, were two people with a dog and a child in a stroller. It must be a popular sunset spot when the air is warmer.

I'd booked into the Gasthaus Natzke. There was no one there, but a phone number was provided for access and the manager or owner arrived shortly. While I was waiting, a couple of others arrived, looking for a place to stay. But he didn't give them a room, despite the place's being far from full.

It turned out that the place was on holiday, but because I'd booked two months in advance he'd honored my reservation. I'm likely the only guest for the night; why he put me in the farthest building back is anyone's guess, but he charged me €7 less than I was expecting, so I'm not complaining.

"Is there a restaurant?" I knew the Natzke's was closed.

"Roseneck" ("rosen-eck," or "rose corner"), he said with enough confidence that I believed he knew it would be open.

In the original itinerary for today, that was the end of the walking: 32 kilometers around the Lieper Winkel to here. But tomorrow's booking, in Garz, about two-thirds of the way between here and Świnoujście, fell through. There was already something weird about it — it was nonrefundable but Booking.com took no payment information — and then I had a message from the property providing bank details and asking me to make a bank transfer.

I asked if cash was possible instead, and it was only then that they told me about a €60 cleaning fee I hadn't heard about. In our very cordial conversation, the owner said the fee must have been disclosed; I assured him that it hadn't, and maybe he wanted to check his agreement with Booking.com to ensure that the correct price is shown.

"Who can say where the error lies?" he mused.

True, and it's moot. They changed the price after I booked, and I'm not having it. Other places around Garz impose a cleaning fee, and there isn't even a place to eat there. So I might as well go all the way to Świnoujście tomorrow, and complete the Usedom island circuit in seven days instead of eight.

But there's a 14-kilometer bulge below Usedom town (handily called the Usedomer Winkel) that needs to be walked, and whichever day I add it to, it's going to make for a long day. So I figured I'd tack it on tonight, especially if it really is supposed to rain all day tomorrow.

It was 5:20. The 14 kilometers would take two and a half hours at a breakneck pace, even more at the rate I've been going. I went to the Roseneck first, to check their dinner hours.

"What time do you close?"

"Eight o'clock," he said, but with a waving of his hand that suggested it might be earlier.

"Hot food until eight?"

"Yes."

I still didn't consider it a guarantee, but at least if the restaurant was closed I could make it to the Aldi supermarket, which also closed at eight.

Either way, I had to hurry. At ten minutes per kilometer I'd get back to Usedom at 7:40, and then I get to get up to either the Roseneck or the Aldi, a couple more minutes north, and I figured I should get to either place by 7:45 and not expect them to help me much after that.

I'd be following a main road and a rural road — no more going through the forest or marsh — so although it was well after dark, I considered it a safe walk. I'd be passing through a couple of towns, and I wasn't even going to be that far from Usedom.

I was surprised just how dark it was, though. It felt like midnight. The sky was almost clear (I kept the poncho just in case), but the moon was just a sliver, and the stars didn't help. As soon as I was out of Usedom, I needed the flashlight on my phone.

For the first few kilometers, along the main road, there was one of the island's signature wide sidewalks. I broke into practically a jog for a short stretch and did the first kilometer in 7:55, and several others in under nine minutes.

The main road continued over the Zecheriner Brücke, the other bridge to the mainland. Here's where I turned left, to stay on the island. This rural road didn't have a sidewalk, but it had such little traffic that it didn't matter. I walked in the middle of the road, stepping to the side the dozen or so times that a car came by.

What I really wanted was a restaurant maybe ten kilometers along the ring, so I could digest and walk the last 45 minutes. But there was only one eatery, shown as the Hafenimbiss Karnin on Google Maps, and I was sure it wouldn't be open. It also had horrible reviews of the food and the two women who operate it, matched by catty responses from the owner. "Why not go somewhere else? We don't need you." "Cutlery — what is that? Must be washed afterwards: too much of a good thing."

I passed through Zecherin and Karnin villages, each of which had a dog near the village's entrance that barked angrily at my arrival. Then Mönchow and Wilhelmshof. I couldn't make out the details of the houses, but they must have looked much like those up in the Lieper Winkel. One cyclist came by, and then two motorcycles, the one in back driven with no lights.

I arrived at the Roseneck at 7:43 to find a locked door, so I hastened to the Aldi to play a quick dinner version of "Supermarket Sweep." A pack of herring, a pack of trout, lox spread, cheese-stuffed little peppers, bread, an orange, a liter of juice, cookies...and a €2.49 bottle of wine from Macedonia. And made it out at a minute to eight.

As I ate, I put on the television. There was the German version of the game show "The Chase." They quizzed about the spelling of "feng shui," the Büsumer breakfast (with herring and crabs), and the fake penis of the female spotted hyena, which makes it hard to distinguish the sexes. But most coincidentally, they asked what island Zinnowitz is found on, and no one could answer it.

Go on to day 7