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Havelland
Havelland
From apples and pears
The writer Theodor Fontane got his ideas from the Brandenburg sands of Havelland. Even today it offers quiet tranquility, hardly an hour’s drive from Berlin’s Kurfurstendamm.
Ralf Schanze
04/10/1997
“The fruit trees? You’re a couple of years late. Everything cut down. «The innkeeper in the small town of Ketzin west of Potsdam answers our question about the famous orchards of the Havelland with disaffection. No fruit trees? This is just unreal! After all, all travel guides report on huge apple-growing areas, and next weekend the famous Tree Blossom Festival is to take place in neighboring Werder. So Klaus and I go looking. With the Kawasaki Eliminator and the Triumph Thunderbird, we will be grazing every avenue and country road in the area over the next few days – but in fact there is no trace of the blossoms of apples, pears and co. But almost by the way, we discover completely different things during our search – a quiet heather and river landscape west of Berlin. Through shady pine and beech forests, we roll past glittering streams and reed-fringed lakes. Water everywhere you look. The main and tributaries of the Havel seem to meander through the green of the meadows and forests in an infinite number of ramifications: Theodor Fontane, Brandenburg’s most famous son, who chose the sand of the Mark countless times as the backdrop for his novels and short stories, and Kurt Tucholsky once Respectfully referred to as the “Brandenburg Goethe”, the Havel once named a “lowland Neckar” in reference to its southern German brother. From Berlin its blue ribbon loops in the direction of Hamburg. Around the new capital, motorboat fans, weekend house owners, allotment gardeners, camping enthusiasts, cyclists and hikers alike get their money’s worth in this little Venice. Because of the sandy soils, the Berliners also affectionately and mockingly refer to the recreation area as the »sandbox of the nation«. And fruit trees that have been cultivated in Havelland since the 17th century thrive on these sandy soils. But where are they? Finally we discover a few on the B 273 in the direction of Potsdam: to the right and left of the road, the branches covered with white flowers protrude into the blue sky. The apples are not far either: a woman has set up a couple of fruit boxes on the roadside in front of her Wartburg. We stop Eliminator and T-Bird in front of the plastic bomber and order half a dozen “Jona Gold” as food on the way. The apple seller Brigitte Lampe, a cheerful, buxom lady with rosy cheeks, also complains about the decline of the Havelland fruit tree industry. “At the weekly market in East Berlin they literally tore the fruit out of my hands, and now I sit here for a few pfennigs on the roadside.” More than 90 percent of the orchards, she estimates, are in the frenzy of turning the ax Fell victim. Only a fraction of the former 17 million trees have survived. The rest of the fruit growers plowed under for a ridiculously low EC premium because the much-touted cherries, apples and pears from Havelland suddenly appeared on the European fruit market as new, undesirable competition for Dutch, Spanish and Italians. Today they already regret this clear cut and are carefully beginning to reforest again. Ms. Lampes ‘Jona Gold’ tastes delicious, the rest disappears in the tank bag. As a farewell, the woman from Brandenburg recommends a detour to the region’s most beautiful fruit tree avenue. At the small Beezsee near the town of Wachow we finally find a “white mile” that not only makes the photographer’s heart beat faster. Blossom snow rushes past the visor to the left and right, while the cotton candy tops arch into a semicircular tunnel. It doesn’t really matter that the pavement looks as if Brandenburg moles had just held their annual general meeting underneath. In any case, we hop up and down on the benches as if we were trotting up on horseback across the prairie. In the small town of Ketzur we take a short break, recover from the blows of the lowest category East German country roads. We have hardly unfolded the side stand when a white-haired pensioner in a beige cardigan and plaid slippers is standing next to us. His gaze wanders curiously over the shiny chrome of the Eliminator. “Boy, you’ve got to readjust this thing. The manifold is already very blue, “he complains with an expert undertone – and adds that you can’t do anything with these” things “yourself anyway. Fritz Boll, that’s the name of the two-wheeler specialist, proudly tells us that he was able to completely dismantle his old MZ. “I drove it to the steelworks every day, whatever the weather, 25,000 kilometers a year, for 30 years.” Only a few years ago he gave away the trusty piece, but he still has his helmet. Before we know it, he disappears into his house and rummages in the attic. Grandpa Boll once vigorously blows the dust off the egg hood with the worn leather straps and points to a crack on the side: “Years ago I drove over a badger and broke all my ribs. Fortunately, the head was still intact «. He taps the nostalgic head protection with his knuckles appreciatively. We can hardly break away from the sympathetic narrator, but we still have some plans. Via Rathenow it goes to Stolln. A piece of aviation history took place in the small village in 1896 when a certain Otto Lilienthal dared to plunge into the depths of the 110 meter high Gollenberg with his self-developed flying machine. After 350 meters there was a rough crash landing, for which a memorial was erected for him years later. A visit to the local inn “Zum 1. Flieger” is much more exciting than visiting the monument. All kinds of sketches and drawings of Lilienthal’s vehicle can be admired there, and a model of the flying machine hangs from the ceiling in the dining room. When I see the filigree mother of all airplanes, however, I wonder how you could even lift an inch off the ground with it. In any case, I wouldn’t even throw myself off a curb with it. At the end of the village, we immediately spit away again: There is actually a full-fledged aircraft of the former GDR state line »Interflug« on the top of a small meadow. A museum has been set up in the discarded passenger plane with the affectionate name of »Lady Agnes«, which also provides detailed information on the history of the Lilienthal flight. We roll comfortably back to Potsdam on Bundesstrabe 5. Our next station is called Ribbeck. The village west of Nauen became world famous for a gentleman who loved to give away pears. Of course, Theodore Fontane, whom you meet here almost at every turn, wrote the famous lines of “Herr von Ribbeck auf Ribbeck im Havelland”: “Herr von Ribbeck auf Ribbeck im Havelland, a pear tree stood in his garden …” – who doesn’t remember his school days? Mr. von Ribbeck is supposed to have actually existed. His last descendants allegedly perished in the concentration camp as opponents of Hitler. According to tradition, the pear tree is said to have blossomed in Ribbeck, and today – our polyglot promises – a new tree is growing in front of the village church. Polyglot editors are only human and can be wrong. Because we didn’t find a trace of the said tree when we walked around the small church several times in vain. Startled by the rumbling of our engines, some elderly people from the Ribbecks’ castle next door, which today serves as an old people’s home, eyed us suspiciously. We do not want to disturb the village peace and leave disappointed: another bankruptcy in terms of fruit trees. If the good Theodor Fontane only knew … But we still have the tree blossom festival in Werder. In 1879 a fruit grower named Wilhelm Wils had the grandiose idea of announcing the height of the Werderan tree blossom in all Berlin newspapers and inviting guests to it. An appeal with consequences: in the same year, the tree blossom guests traveled by special trains. Later, tens of thousands of Berliners made the pilgrimage to this spectacle by steamboat, omnibus, by car, even on foot and by bike. After the fall of the Wall, the old days were successfully resumed. During the tree blossom festival, the old town of Werder is transformed into a turbulent fair. When we arrive, we can see a Ferris wheel from afar, which rotates lazily between the characteristic silhouette of the old town church and the post mill towering next to it. We buy a ticket and let the colorful gondolas carry us to lofty heights. From a bird’s eye view, the picturesque location of the village is easy to see, whose city center is enthroned in the middle of an island in the Havel. A couple of sailboats are cruising on the water with their white sails, and a few pedal boats are doing their laps in between. When we are back on solid ground, we find that the cheap fruit wine, which is served here as a specialty of the region, has already left its mark on numerous visitors to the fair. This saves the money for the carousel. We take a small ferry across to Ketzin. We have an appointment there with Joachim Habicht, one of the last Havel fishermen. In Ketzin and the surrounding area alone, 30 fishermen cast their nets in earlier times, today there are only three. Joachim Habicht runs a small shop on the market square of the village. When we ring the doorbell, his wife Anneliese opens the door for us with blood-dripping hands in the best Edgar Wallace manner. “Come on in, I’m gutted a fish,” she excuses her red-smeared fingers. While Frau Habicht is wiping her hands on her apron, she leads us into the small back yard of the fish shop, which reminds us a bit of a remake of “The Old Man and the Sea”. Dozens of faded nets and traps that have seen better days hang on the brick walls. The goshawks have been fishermen for four generations. During the GDR era, their catch was marketed by the cooperative. That was a pretty good place to live. Today they have to sell their “eels in aspic” and the sweet and sour pickled “roaches”, a kind of herrings, themselves. A tough job, especially since the fish stocks in the Havel are decreasing from year to year and the money raised in summer has to be carried over the winter by the family. “Everything is just not the same as it used to be,” sighs Joachim Habicht and pensively pushes his worn cap back on his neck. Finally, 89-year-old Grandpa Habicht joins the group, and they talk about a couple of kebabs from the old days. Back then, in the GDR, the Havel fishermen secretly smoked some of their eels at night in order to sell them “black” to acquaintances and the West German water police. Anyone caught is threatened with a lot of trouble, in severe cases even a life-long professional ban. When we say goodbye, Joachim Habicht invites us to go fishing with him early the next morning. So we sneak through the former fishing district at dawn with tired eyes. While deep in my sleep, the realization matures that the working hours of journalists and fishermen somehow have little in common, we reach the landing stages. Shortly afterwards we slide out into the labyrinth of the countless arms of the Havel on a narrow boat. Only the old ship’s diesel breaks the morning silence with its monotonous chugging. The water is as smooth as a mirror, thick morning mist creeps out of the bank thicket. Without a word, Joachim Habicht and his colleague Gerhard Cuhrts do their work in the hours that follow, pulling in the nets and sorting the catch. A calm and idyllic picture that compensates us for all the missing fruit blossoms and pear trees of the past few days.
Info
Havelland is around 45 minutes’ drive from Kuhdamm. A detour into the landscape characterized by countless lakes and rivers is not only worthwhile for capital city dwellers. The small, little-traveled streets and romantic avenues are an Eldorado for every biker.
Getting there: The fastest way from the north is via the A 27, from the west the cheapest way to get there is via the A 2, and the southern Germans come via the A 9 from Leipzig. All journeys end at the A10, the Berliner Ring west of the capital. There you can choose any descent. Gastronomy: Fruit growing has also left its mark on the kitchen. In Havelland you can find particularly delicious apple and cherry crumble cakes. The numerous lakes and rivers also provide the basis for delicious fish dishes with trout, pikeperch and carp, even if, for example, “eel in aspic” is not for everyone. Accommodation: Good hotels and guesthouses are unfortunately still in short supply in East Germany. The guides »Inexpensive overnight accommodation in East Germany« by the Georg Simader publishing house (two volumes at 14.80 marks each) and »Overnight stays in the new federal states« by the grafit publishing house for 24.80 marks are helpful here. Our inexpensive tips: · Gasthof “Zum 1. Flieger” in Stolln, Otto-Lilienthal Strabe 7, phone 033875/30000, the prices for double rooms are between 90 and 100 marks. · Hotel Muhlenberg, Phobenstrabe 10, 14476 Toplitz, phone 03320 / 2318, the double room costs 75 marks. Hotel Zieten Hof, Berliner Strasse 32, 14712 Rathenow, telephone 03385/503095, price for the double room: 130 marks. For larger purses, the converted, former Bollmannsruh recreation home, directly on the Beetzsee, is recommended: Hotel Bollmannsruh, Bollmansruh No. 10.14778 Pawesin, phone 033838/4790 The prices for a double room range from 178 to 215 marks. In addition, inexpensive alternatives are the private accommodation that is offered everywhere. The prices for double rooms are between 40 and 70 marks. Travel time: Despite reduced fruit tree plantations, spring is still the best time to travel through the Havelland. Those who travel to Werder for the “Tree Blossom Festival” in May have to expect shortages in accommodation due to the small number of hotels. Then you either have to book early or move to Berlin. The harvest season in autumn is also attractive. Literature: Light fare is the small polyglot “Brandenburg / 12 routes around Berlin” for 7.80 marks and the HB image atlas “Brandenburg” for 14.80 marks. More information can be found in the DuMont art travel guide “Brandenburg” for 44 marks and the Merian Brandenburg for 12.80 marks. Theodor Fontane’s travelogues “Walks through the Mark Brandenburg” (which he actually did with the carriage!) From dtv in three volumes for 59 marks are suitable for literary introduction. Further information: Tourist Association Westhavelland, Schleusenplatz 4, 14712 Rathenow, telephone and Fax 03385/2336.
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