Sylt – icy experience

List auf Sylt, 28. February – 7.March 2018
(by Christa)

List is the northernmost village on the remote, bordering on Denmark North Sea island of Sylt. In winter it is almost as lonely and abandoned as at the time of my childhood, when no one knew that a few years later it would be called the “pearl of the North Sea”. Here are my roots, buried deep in the sand with the memories of a difficult, war-torn childhood. On the other hand, we had unlimited freedom and sometimes also light-heartedness in the expanse of dunes, the beaches and the ever-changing sea. We learned to walk and to swim at the same time, because the beach and the sea were our playgrounds.

More than half a century later I am in List with Michael – in the middle of winter. Already when the car rolled onto the Sylt shuttle, the connection between the mainland and the island, the sharp wind brought up the smell of salt and sea water. On the island the icy north-east winds turned into a blizzard. Our quarters were cold – “still, we thought, will get better”. But the cold north-east emmidiatlly sucked the hesitant warmth out again. And there was no water in the kitchen – the pipes were frozen.

And where is the sea? We ran to the beach – no water to be seen, only ice, a landscape like on the moon! This is what a visiting child once said to me as we walked through the dunes: “How can one only live in this lunar landscape!” I was outraged and offended: “Let him stay at home!”

An extreme cold like we are experiencing currently has not existed for a long time. We try to set up everything comfortably in the apartment – despite the lack of water in the kitchen and the cool temperatures . The icy wind on the beach bothers us, cuts in the face and penetrates through the clothes. Only slowly does our body get used to the unfamiliar temperatures. On the second afternoon I wanted to go to the only cafe in the place to relax in the warmth and with a fries tea. The cafe was filled to the last seat – here everyone had fled, who had dared to visit the island and its northernmost place! I could understand that very well and cooked a coffee for ourselves in the apartment

The next days it remained cold and stormy too.  Nevertheless, the water in the kitchen began to trickle on the third day despite the low temperatures. We were relieved, as the landlady, who does not live on the island in winter, had given us an offer to move and we had no desire to do so. Good mooded (as usually always!) we drove to Braderup to the island’s health food store and on to Munkmarsch, a small today insignificant place on the east side. Once Munkmarsch has been the gateway to the island. Here the steam vessels docked, which from the mainland, the danish place Hoyerschleuse today, sailed to the island. The crossing took 3 hours or more, depending on wind, weather and water level. At low tide the ship could not dock. and many a guest became terribly seasick!!

This is long gone, since the Hindenburg dam was inaugurated in 1927 and the “Sylt shuttle” effortlessly carries guests and cars to the island. The small harbor has lost its meaning, but preserves its charm with the small sailboats and the rebuilt ferry house, so that it draws me there again and again. In the late afternoon, the sky cleared and I suspected: Michael has an evening event in his mind, and this despite the wind and cold!!!

We drove to the List beach hall, where Michael wanted to set up his tripod down at the beach. Hm, the way to the beach was closed…. Afterwards we saw that the storm had destroyed the stairs leading down. So we looked for a way over the dune to watch the sunset in the shelter behind the dune.

We were a little too late and so could just catch the last corner of the sun. The more beautiful the colors in the sky developed afterwards. I walked along the beach to get warm. It was low tide and completely lonely – a mysterious silence despite the wind, and after a while I couldn’t see Michael anymore. The darkness had something magical that I know from my childhood when it kept dragging me out to the ebb, especially in the evenings, although I was afraid. I found Michael again and thought we’re going home now. “The sky is clear, now the stars are coming…”

I padded my way back across the dune to see if the beach hall was still open. “We close at sunset (that was more than an hour ago),” said the friendly owner, whom I knew. “But I still like to make you a mulled wine.” How good that was !! and soon afterwards Michael was ready to leave. I admire him enduring hours and hours of wind and cold to take timelapse videos of the sunset or the starry sky!!

The last few days were a bit milder, so we once again dared to go to the west beach, to Kampen, past the spa houses to the Kampen cliff. This is aside of the Morsum cliff the big attraction of the island. After each winter, when the storm tides gnaw on it and the rain showers rip it, it changes its face.

The last day was a realy sunny. We walked past the beautiful cemetery through the Lister dunes and heath valleys to the very lonely youth hostel Möwenberg and then with the wide view of the elbow and the royal harbor on the outer dike and the bird sanctuary back to List. On the wet meadows and ponds romped the winter guests, wild geese and wild ducks, on the beach in summer and winter seagulls and oystercatchers. Birdwatchers will discover countless bird species that come from everywhere, rest here or even stay here during winter.

The beautiful weather seduced Michael to photograph another sunset. For this we chose a viewpoint in the List dunes overviewing the valleys of the moorland and with the large dune as the background. Here the loneliness and silence of the island becomes particularly clear, which we had already noticed in the morning on the hike to the youth hostel.

Every holiday is too short !! And the island with its austere charm always makes my farewell difficult. Strangely, it took more than 2 hours to return to the mainland via the Sylt shuttle across the causeway.