An attempt to remap Europe and claim back the lost territories of the North Sea
Sylt: Day four
On our last full day on Sylt, I woke up feeling unwell. After using the campsite’s internet connection from the reading room, I noticed that the funds in my bank account had just about run out. So we chose to pass the day nearby, in order not to spend money on transport.
We walked down into Hörnum village. After sitting on the beach, we wandered down a little toward the great sandy area at the southern tip of the island. Hörnum-Odde is known for its shifting sand and, according to some, is the point on Sylt most vulnerable to erosion. In recent years, it has been through a dramatic loss of several metres of its area.
We walked to Hörnum harbour. From here, boats leave on cruises to the neighbouring islands and to Helgoland. We had thought about leaving Sylt for the afternoon, but my financial situation made this impossible.
At the opposite end of the quay, we noticed the new property developments and the vast golf course. This used to be Hörnum’s sea-plane base, which was the scene of the first bombing raid on German soil of the second world war. Although Hitler had set Sylt aside as a bird sanctuary, it was believed that German sea planes were being used in mine-laying and attacks on British ships. It came after a raid on Scapa Flow and was one of the events that marked the end of the Phoney War.
Source: Flightglobal Archive
The weather got cloudy and we went for dinner at the campsite’s restaurant. Tom was kind enough to pay for this.
The next morning we would travel back via Westerland. Before leaving the island, we took a little time to on the Kurpromenade and think about the village of Eidum. This was lost to the sea in the fifteenth century and is now about two kilometres out to sea.
- Time: IN THE AIR: Raid on Sylt (1 April 1940)
- Hansard: British bombing raids, HC Deb 20 March 1940 vol 358 cc2000-1
- Flightglobal Archive: War in the air (continued) (pdf)
Sylt: Day three
On Saturday we woke up to hazy sunshine. We went over the dune on to the beach and for a short time into the water (which was extremely cold). When we got back to our tent, it had become strangely foggy. I’d never seen coastal fog before, so it was an odd experience.
The fog looked just like clouds at ground level, rather like being on a mountain. It seemed very different to the winter fog I’m more used to. Apparently in Scotland, they use the term “haar” to describe the fog that is brought in from the North Sea.
We bought some supplies in the local supermarket branch and walked down to look at Hörnum’s lighthouse. This was barely visible until we got close, which seemed somehow ironic. But I suppose, the poor visibility only really highlighted the need for a lighthouse here.
The lighthouse was surrounded by a small wooded area. Tom remarked at how strange this seemed as there were so few trees on the island.
Walking back along the beach seemed to take a lot longer than our journey there. The weather got much warmer and the midday sun felt quite intense, although for a time, we couldn’t see beyond a few metres away.
We stopped for a beer and an ice cream on a stick. The weather felt heavy and was weirdly tiring. We became very aware of how affected this place is by the weather and how obviously exposed it is to the sea.
After sitting for a while, we noticed that to our north, the sun was breaking through. Back at the campsite, it had become a beautiful clear afternoon and we prepared some food on a disposible barbecue.
Sylt: Day two
Leaving from our campsite in the morning, we walked 10km north toward Rantum.
Initially we followed the main road. But veered off a little to have a look at the marshland. Most of this is fenced off as it is a bird sanctuary. The island is at its narrowest here, so it was only a short distance from the open North Sea to the west and the Wadden Sea mudflats to the west.
We wandered past the LORAN-C radio mast. This is the only such navigation transmitter in Germany, but its use has diminished in recent years, with the rise of GPS technology.
Arriving in Rantum, it was striking how new the houses were. It seemed to be predominantly holiday villas, built with a vernacular thatched roof, but most appearing to date from the 1980s or later. I had read that Rantum had been rebuilt a number of times through its history after severe storm flooding. I wondered whether this explained the lack of old buildings.
We found very little to do in Rantum. After a meal of labskaus at a restaurant near the sea, we caught the bus back to Hörnum.