Table of contents
to travel
Teufelsmoor
Teufelsmoor
…and always straight ahead
Curves and passes? Well, rarely. In northern Germany anyway and especially in the Teufelsmoor. Nevertheless, the flat land around the artists’ village Worpswede inspires – just in a different way.
Michael Schroder
08/20/1997
Long wisps of fog hang over the lush green meadows and pastures to my right and left. Dimly the mighty giant trees that suddenly appear in the haze as if out of nowhere and disappear again just as quickly, the huge farmsteads that seem to float on the foggy fields, the harmless cows that suddenly look like terrifying creatures, here and there narrow channels, whose mirror-smooth water surface literally steams. The sun has not yet risen, this diffuse light still reigns between night and day, this brief moment between dark and light, in which the moor looks all the more eerie because it is more unreal. This is probably why I was advised to leave as early as possible. As if drawn with a ruler, the narrow street leads straight ahead without any ifs or buts, after a while flanked by densely packed birch trees whose canopy has long grown together over the asphalt. The damp and cool airflow is a good substitute for a coffee, without which nothing would work for me at four in the morning. Meter by meter, tiredness falls by the wayside. Curiously through the visor I look at the unfamiliar dramaturgy of this lonely landscape, through which the mighty V2 engine of the Suzuki pushes me with a dull rumble, enjoying the wide, motionless space that belongs only to me at this time of day. Finally, the wonderful, drawn-out bend to the left somewhere between Oyten and Fischerhude, which also drives away the last bit of tired thoughts – and really deserves the name curve when compared to southern German conditions. The day begins much faster than expected. Only minutes, if not seconds, until the last clouds of vapor have disappeared in the first sunlight. Suddenly the country shows its true size. Meadows as far as the view extends, only interrupted by long rows of trees, small lakes and ponds in which the faint blue of the sky is already reflected. Anyway, this heaven. It is he who makes this country seem so mighty, who turns every object, no matter how insignificant, into something special. As imposing as the Alps may be – they pale against the unbelievable generosity of this area. I rumble over rough cobblestones in the hard-sprung Suzuki. Past spruced up, thatched half-timbered houses in the shade of stone-old oaks and in the midst of large, colorful gardens in the midst of a football field, the sight of which, as a city dweller, could burst with envy – in Fischerhude’s quaint town center, the world still seems all right. The village is slowly waking up, two kids are riding a pony to school, a farmer is bringing milk cans of different sizes from door to door with a handcart, three strong boys are driving a herd of cows across the small, shady market square to pasture. It drives me on because there is no breakfast despite the idyll. The paths lead straight ahead towards Worpswede. Streets at right angles to each other, framed by kilometer-long birch avenues, the bog tree par excellence. But it is still a long way to the actual moor – or what is left of it today – the Teufelsmoor. The countless canals are concentrated right behind Fischerhude. In the middle of the 18th century, they began to drain this once inhospitable and inhospitable marshland in order to turn the damp, barely inhabited lowlands between the rivers Hamme and Wumme into fertile farmland. Until then, only the few farmers who cut peat on the moorland that they brought to Bremen on one of the many waterways, where it was ultimately sold as fuel, had a meager livelihood. Today the long rows of peat sods piled up to dry can only be seen in a few places, the moor ships with their black tarred sails have completely disappeared: Grassberg, Worphausen, Worpheim. The drive through the once inaccessible moor is inspiring – despite the almost curvilinear road layout. The little streets between the tiny nests, which often only consist of a handful of houses, are sometimes even overgrown with moss or paved with coarse cobblestones. Not necessarily the terrain for the sporty TL 1000, which passes every bump on my wrists, but still, the country has character. The mild wind smells of damp pastures, of field flowers, mixed with the smell of brackish water in the ditch to the right of the road. The sun twinkles more and more warmly through the thick foliage over the asphalt, points of light dance everywhere on the path in front of me. Colorful half-timbered houses with low thatched roofs stand slightly elevated as if on small islands and surrounded by dense bushes and trees next to the paths, in the spacious gardens brightly colored dahlias and asters bloom, potatoes and Brussels sprouts grow, the useful thrives next to the beautiful – but all of a sudden is the end of this quiet idyll. There is a lot of activity in Worpswede. Fully occupied coaches push their way through the old, beautiful village center of the world-famous artists’ colony, cars are parked close together in front of the numerous exhibitions, art and kitsch are for sale on every corner – the founding fathers of fame, the painters Otto Modersohn, Fritz Mackensen, Hans am Ende, Heinrich Vogeler and Paula Modersohn-Becker would avoid Worpswede today, because there is not much left of the peace and solitude that lured them to this rural seclusion at the turn of the century. The tremendous expressiveness of their pictures has remained to this day – the moor in all variations and in all seasons, sometimes as a barren, melancholy backdrop, sometimes as a painting full of light and colors, artfully or romantically arranged: the land and the people stood for the painters of the first generation as symbols of an unspoilt naturalness. Anyone who paints like this shouldn’t be surprised that sooner or later Worpswede is literally overrun by imitative artists and tourists looking for relaxation. As soon as I leave town, I am welcomed again by this vast, almost melancholy land that stretches almost without borders on the banks of the Hamme . At the jetty and inn Neu Helgoland there is finally coffee in a rustic atmosphere. Formerly one of the most important traffic routes for the peat farmers, today only a few excursion boats and pleasure boats bob in front of me in the brown water of the Hamme. In good years it is said to have been over 18,000 wooden boats that transported peat from here to Bremen in the last century. A laborious business with a meager income. After all, only the innkeepers who set up their restaurants directly on the banks of the canals and rivers earned well. On the way again, I suddenly feel the violent wind on my helmet, which blows almost continuously over the unresisted country here. Low-hanging clouds flit past quickly and cast their shadows on the flat slopes of the Weyerberg. At 54 meters high, it’s actually not a mountain, but rather a hill. But where everything is flat, the lower one appears much higher than elsewhere. Stubbornly straight ahead I follow the wide street in the direction of Neu Sankt Jurgen, then an abrupt change of course at a right angle to the left. Birch trees, ditches, meadows, ornate half-timbering, the picture remains unchanged. But somewhere here there should still be something that has shaped the country and its inhabitants like no other element: the Teufelsmoor, the »Davelsmoor«, the deaf, barren moor, this eerie stretch of land that people were suspicious of from the start. Shortly behind the Teufelsmoor town sign I turn right and eagerly follow a single-lane path that leads cobbled across marshy meadows. In the middle of nowhere is the end, no house, no sign, no one. Only a narrow path disappears behind thick bushes. On foot I walk across the soft ground, which gives way with a hollow and dull noise with every step, finally becoming softer and muddy. But anyone who expects the eerie or even hostile to life here will be disappointed: the swampy trap that once swallowed careless people and animals has long since become a rare idyll in a small nature reserve, where you only risk wet feet if you make a mistake. Green rushes grow in the shade of young birch trees, a gentle wind blows through the white cotton grass, here and there small, silvery shimmering pools of water between the brown peat floor. The harmony of the colors, the mild climate, this absolute silence – the Teufelsmoor shows itself from a very lovely side on mild summer days. The road leads back in a wide arc past the Teufelsmoor, then it goes – anything else would be inappropriate because it is atypical – straight ahead for kilometers in the direction of Vollersode. A wonderful full throttle route, it shoots through my head, because there is nothing more to see than anywhere else. Not correct. This is where the peat farmers show their lifestyle, tasteful and generous. Mighty, ancient courtyards, flower-colored, green-roofed residential islands, brown half-timbering, blue half-timbering, red half-timbering, everything is far from the road and can only be reached via a narrow dam that just looks over the floods when the water is high. Behind it birch-lined bog meadows, horses and cows, the horizon. This is it, the stuff my dreams are made of, late afternoon. The sun is slowly tilting towards the west. Still, the days seem longer here. When most of the valleys in the mountains have long been in shadow, every corner of the plain is still glowing. The white trunks of the birch trees shine like pure silver for a long moment, the strong green of the meadows seems even more intense, the sky even bluer. I have seldom had more fun driving, seldom has I found a region that seems completely unspectacular at first glance as enthusiastic as this flat country in the north of Bremen. I stroll calmly to Gnarrenburg, sometimes on the wide main road, then back up again narrow paths that run parallel to countless drainage channels. Less and less reminiscent of the original moor landscape, more and more often red brick houses are replacing the wonderful half-timbered farmsteads, kilometer by kilometer the unique charm of the moor disappears, which has given way to fertile pastureland and arable land. All the more surprising that the past is presented most vividly here: “the gold of the moor”, brick-sized, feather-light peat sods, neatly stacked, just as they were cut in the moor in the last century. A laborious manual work that, apart from on the grounds of the museum courtyard in Augustenburg, has hardly had any tradition since the peatland was cultivated. The moor has long done its duty, but the charm of this harsh landscape has remained – all the more unreal and dramatic as soon as the fog rises again from the meadows and lakes, from Hamme and Wumme, which drags away the day.
Info
Even if curves are in short supply, the area around the Teufelsmoor offers scenic highlights that you would not expect to find on flat land – you just have to take a closer look.
Arrival: If you are traveling in northern Germany, you should definitely not miss a tour through the unique moor landscape around Worpswede. The quickest way to get there is via the A1, which leads from Hamburg to Bremen, then leave the train in Stuckenborstel or Oyten. If you are coming from the south, head for the Achim-Nord exit on the A27 just before Bremen. Travel time: A trip to Teufelsmoor is worthwhile all year round. Spring and autumn are particularly attractive. If you want to feel the real charm of this region, you should start shortly before sunrise – this is when the country shows its most dramatic side.Overnight: In Worpswede, which is heavily tourist-oriented, there is no shortage of hotels, guest houses and holiday apartments. If you would like to spend the night in a thatched half-timbered house in proper style, contact the Worpsweder Pension in the »Haus im Schluh«, which also houses a collection by the famous painter Heinrich Vogeler. You can sleep in beautiful Art Nouveau rooms from 92 Marks, phone 04792/950061, Fax 950063. You can spend the night in the village of the same name at the spacious Wellbrock Holiday Farm, directly at the Teufelsmoor nature reserve, rooms for at least two nights are available from 65 Marks per night, Telephone and fax 04796/274. The tip for tent fans: the Neu Helgoland campsite, which is located just outside Worpswede at the inn of the same name, right on the banks of the Hamme. A detailed brochure with information about hotels, restaurants and art collections is available from the Worpswede Tourist Office, Bergstrasse 13, 27726 Worpswede, phone 04792/950121 Kunsthalle in Bergstrasse 17 right in the center. Equally interesting is the legendary Barkenhoff, Heinrich Vogeler’s home and work place at Ostendorfer Strabe 10. The beautiful villa was a constant meeting place for important artists and writers at the turn of the century. Today, exhibitions on Worpswede’s art history are held here. If you want to find out something about the hard life of the peat farmers in the last century, stop by the museum courtyard in Augustenburg, which is only open on Sundays. The Torfschiffswerft-Museum in Schlussdorf also offers an informative look back at the past. The typical peat barges were once built here, and numerous historical images provide information about the old days. Opening times: Wednesdays from 12 p.m. to 6 p.m. and Sundays from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m. and 3 p.m. to 6 p.m. Literature: Detailed information about the history of Worpswede and the development and significance of painting as well as excellent photos is provided by the illustrated book “Worpswede und das Teufelsmoor” by Anna Brenken and Fritz Dressler from Ellert & Richter Verlag for 19.80 marks. A wonderful contemporary document is the book “Worpswede in old views” by Almuth and Peter Rabenstein: historical black and white photos and postcards with short but informative texts offer an interesting look back at the country and its people. The book is available for 32.80 marks only from the tourist information office of the tourist office in Worpswede. The ADAC map of Lower Saxony and Bremen on a scale of 1: 300,000 for 12.80 marks is suitable for an overview. Time required: two days Distance covered: 200 kilometers
Related articles
-
to travel Schleswig-Holstein Schleswig-Holstein Good Morning Platt is the country and Platt is the name of the language in the sea-wrapped…
-
to travel Vietnam Vietnam In the middle Lively chaos is nothing new in Southeast Asia – to experience it in Vietnam, on the other hand, is. After two…
-
to travel Nepal Nepal Once limit value and back With a 500 Enfield to the eight-thousanders on earth. A journey between wooden sheds and pagoda temples…
-
to travel resin resin The witches ask for a dance Black Forest, Bavarian Forest, the Alps: Southern Germany’s motorcyclists can draw on the full. In…
-
jkuenstle.de motorcycles Retro 125 impressions Retro 125 impressions Old school bikes The retro wave has meanwhile also arrived in the 125 cc. But is it…
-
to travel Northern Portugal Northern Portugal Europe’s last exit If you want to travel to Portugal, you need a lot of patience and a durable tire. Once…
-
to travel Moselle, journey along the Moselle, journey along the A date with Moselle Spring feelings. Enjoy the first warm rays of the sun. And the…
-
to travel Croatia Croatia Calm after the storm There has been no fighting in Croatia for over two years. Since then, the former holiday paradise has been…
-
Siemer to travel Taubertal Taubertal Offside trap Bridge arrows nimbly to Tauberrettersheim. Dwarfs work in Weikersheim without tipped heads. Beyond…
-
Streblow to travel Out and about in Romania Out and about in Romania New truths Forty years after the author and his parents were on the road in Romania…