DAY 14

Waking up in an excellent, if rather small, room at a B&B hotel, with a view of Rügen Island and the towering bridge leading to it, I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t prepared a sightseeing plan for the city I was staying in — Stralsund. After quickly reading up on it, I set off to explore.

Stralsund is another Hanseatic city on my route. In fact, since 1990, “Hanseatic City of Stralsund” has been its official name. It stands on the shore of the Baltic Sea strait separating the island of Rügen from the mainland. Stralsund is the oldest city in Pomerania, having received city rights as early as 1234, and it was once one of the most prosperous members of the Hanseatic League. From 1628 until the Napoleonic Wars, it belonged to Sweden.

The historic centers of Wismar and Stralsund are jointly inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List for their outstanding examples of Brick Gothic architecture. Stralsund’s principal church, St. Mary’s, was once the tallest chirch building in the world. That title later passed to Ulm Minster in Germany, and after the completion of the main tower of the Sagrada Família basilica in October 2025, the record moved to Barcelona.

I began exploring the city at Alter Markt (Old Market Square), where, in addition to the magnificent 13th-century Gothic Town Hall, there is an entire row of beautiful historic buildings. Nearby stands St. Nicholas Church, famous for its unique door. I walked over to see it — only to find restoration work underway and the door almost completely hidden from view. From there, I headed to Neuer Markt (New Market Square) and St. Mary’s Church.

It too was surrounded by barriers — more restoration work. On my way back, I wanted to visit the former St. Catherine’s Monastery to see the Viking gold displayed in the Museum of Cultural History and discovered during excavations on the Baltic island of Hiddensee. And yes, you guessed it — that was under renovation too. (The same monastery also houses a large oceanographic museum.) So I had to content myself with admiring the historic buildings of the Old Town, of which there are more than 500.

After a very enjoyable walk around the fascinating city of Stralsund — a place I hadn’t even heard of before this trip — I headed to Neubrandenburg. The city has a remarkably well-preserved medieval wall that completely encircles the Old Town. It stands between 6 and 8 meters high and stretches for 2.3 kilometers.

Numerous small houses are built into the wall, and four city gates open through it, forming Neubrandenburg’s main attractions. The gates, around 30 meters high and 12 meters wide, are particularly impressive, especially the double Stargard Gate (Stargarder Tor), with its delicate decorative details and rosettes.

Another prominent landmark in the city is the Fangelturm, a defensive tower that once served as a prison. The Gothic St. Mary’s Church (Marienkirche), completed in 1298, was almost completely destroyed during the war but was rebuilt by 1975. Since 2001, it has been used as a concert hall.

Not a single interesting historic building has survived on the Market Square (Marktplatz). Instead, it is home to a large shopping center and the 56-meter-high House of Culture and Education, whose slender “figure” has earned it the nickname “Finger of Culture.”

DAY 15

The previous day had been the first day of my journey south, toward the airport. I had planned the 15th day as a day of rest before heading home, but the day before I hadn’t managed to reach the planned Burg Stargard because of a road closure and a lengthy detour, so I decided to go back to see it today. (Along the way, my car continued trying to improve my driving with remarks such as “Stay in the middle of the lane” and “Take your foot off the accelerator.”) As far back as the 12th century, this place was known as Stargart, which means “Old Town” in the language of the Polabian Slavs. The castle here is the northernmost hilltop castle in Germany. Not much of the castle itself has survived, but its tall defensive tower — round, unlike the square residential towers, or keeps, of French castles — still stands firm.

Incidentally, I almost did something rather crazy. Realizing that the Polish city of Szczecin (formerly the German city of Stettin) was relatively close to where I was staying, and remembering that I hadn’t managed to visit it during my trip through Poland, I decided to drive there. After confirming that the rental company had no objections, I was almost ready to go, but fortunately I first checked what there was to see. It turned out to be much the same sort of things I’d already been seeing, only less interesting, so I fortunately abandoned this rather unreasonable adventure.

On the way back from Stargard, I stopped in the center of the town where I was staying, Neustrelitz, and regretted having left so little time for it. It turned out that for almost 200 years it had been the capital of a duchy, and many beautiful buildings have survived from that period, earning it the nickname “Baroque City.”

This region is full of lakes, large and small, including several within the town itself. On the shore of one of them, Glambecker See, stands a small hotel, and in its restaurant right by the water I celebrated the end of my journey.

DAY 16

There wasn’t really a day at all. Nor much of a night, for that matter. At 4:10 a.m., I set off for Berlin Airport, almost a two-hour drive away. I made good time and, as a farewell, heard one final masterpiece from my car: “Drive on the road!” Excuse me, dear, where exactly do you think I’m going — into the forest? Through the barrier? Come on.

As I approached the airport, I started looking for a “Rental Car Return” sign, as you would find almost anywhere in the world. There was no such sign here. At the very last moment, just before бегиннинг another loop around the airport, I caught sight of the word “Mietwagen” out of the corner of my eye. Rental cars, in other words. On my second attempt, I drove into one of the enormous parking structures and asked an employee whether this was the right place. She didn’t know. “Press the button,” she said. “Call and ask.” I did, and found out that I needed Parking 2. To get there, you practically have to drive toward the airfield. And there, once you’ve finally found the place, you are at last greeted by a large sign in English. (I hadn’t expected this from the Germans. Either the stories about their meticulousness and punctuality are greatly exaggerated, or they’ve seriously deteriorated.) But then came a pleasant surprise: right at the entrance, they accept rental cars regardless of the rental company, and you’re immediately free to begin the long walk to the terminal.

At the security check, they seemed to open the carry-on bags of roughly 70 percent of passengers and search through their belongings. The last time anything like that happened to me was about thirty-five years ago, also in Germany (there was nothing like this in Frankfurt last year). You have to empty everything from your pockets, even papers. Water, however, is allowed through. Passport control isn’t centralized but takes place at the departure gates. There are two booths and a long line. After that comes another inspection of your carry-on luggage. The result: I returned the car two and a half hours before departure and reached the gate shortly before boarding was due to close. Now, I think I’ve reported just about everything. I hope some of this information will be useful to someone.

The trip was interesting, but not an easy one. The countless detours were frustrating, as were the constantly changing speed limits, especially the many stretches limited to 30 km/h. I was very lucky that the car had a built-in navigation system, even though it had never heard of the German town of Stargard. The Polish Stargard? No problem. The German one? Absolutely not. As always in situations like this, Waze came to the rescue.

It was amusing to see familiar reminders of the past in the former East Germany: rows of private garages and tiny — almost microscopic — garden plots with little houses that looked like dollhouses. More generally, the difference between this region and other parts of Germany can still be felt, despite the decades that have passed since reunification.

And one final story. As I was approaching Neustrelitz, the police pulled me over and asked me to take a breath test. When it became clear that I was sober, the officers simply asked me to drive a little more carefully. Apparently, someone had noticed my car swerving and reported to the police that there might be a drunk driver on the road. On the one hand, it’s good that people are vigilant. On the other, it feels a little uncomfortable, as though you’re under constant observation. Even a minor incident — say, touching another car while parking and failing to report it to the police, which is obligatory — is likely to be reported if someone sees it. It takes some getting used to, especially after Israel.

My scheduled departure time has already come and gone, and I’ve been sitting on the airport bus for half an hour. We’re waiting for some passengers who apparently lost track of time somewhere in the terminal. But finally, the bus is moving. See you next time.