Elliot Douglas heads to the Spreewald to enjoy gherkins, kayaks and…swimming with penguins
Packing, even for two nights away, after a corona-induced six months of inertia got me surprisingly flustered. Extra shorts—an umbrella—will we need passports?—we need to leave now to have time to get our COVID tests (they were negative)—what’s the quickest way to Ostkreuz station?—train tickets!—and then suddenly, miles of Brandenburg countryside was streaming past our window, and my boyfriend and I were drinking gin from a can. It was real—we were out of Berlin!
Less than an hour later, we were in the Spreewald (Spree forest), a place famed for a series of narrow, tree-lined canals that are diverted off the river Spree to form a sort of grid system—locals used them as transport routes between villages, rather than horses and carts—as well as its bilingual signs in German and Sorbian, fields stuffed full of cows, middle-aged German couples in matching Jack Wolfskin jackets…and pickled gherkins. But after months of being crammed into a Neukölln apartment, it felt like an exotic adventure.
Like much of rural Germany, if you want to really get around you need a car, but the regional train (towards Cottbus) can deposit you at the “gateway to the forest”—the pretty market town of Lübbenau—and you can also bring your bike to explore the region. Our first impression was Lübbenau’s attractive marina, whose quaint aesthetic was only slightly ruined by an enormous pirate-themed restaurant with its own bowling alley, children’s play area and garish sign. We were then told by our hotel receptionist that we had “better rush if we still wanted to find a restaurant that was still open”: it was 7:30pm.
We found a waterside table and devoured what was to be the first of several potato-and-pickle-themed meals over the next 48-hours. Next to us, geriatric gondoliers were ushering in tourists for the last barge ride of the day. There were dozens of these long “Kahns”, each of which seated around 20 people, broken into parties of four gathered around tables separated by Covid-era plastic screens. After spending some time persuading my unenthusiastic boyfriend that a gondola trip would be just the ticket, the point ended up being somewhat moot the next day when a chilly breeze appeared and it started to rain.
Instead, we wandered round Lübbenau’s charming old town and strolled to the castle, but the weather meant we were eventually forced to look for indoor activities. At the tourist information office, we were directed to the Spreewelten Bad, a sauna and swimming pool where you could allegedly swim with penguins. Intrigued, we queued with dozens of screami…