Baltrum, Germany, July 2022
Baltrum, Germany, July 2022
On a cloudy summer day, the ferry rocked gently as it carried me toward the island of Baltrum. As we approached the dock, I was greeted by a waving welcome committee—whether official or not, Baltrum is undeniably a friendly place.
The village is a collection of red brick houses and red brick paths, with a small red brick church at its heart. Right next to it, perched on a simple wooden frame, stands the island bell—Baltrum’s only landmark that isn’t made of brick. There isn’t much more to the town, but honestly, that’s all it needs.
The island’s name is a mystery, though some joke that it comes from how quickly you’ll be “bald rum” (soon done) with exploring it. But that turns out to be misleading. With nearly 15 kilometers of sand and dunes, circling the smallest inhabited East Frisian island is no task for the impatient. Here, you walk slowly—because there’s simply no reason to do otherwise.
As I board the ferry back, I see people waving from the dock again. Or maybe I just imagined it, to give this story a fitting ending. It doesn’t really matter. On Baltrum, it just feels right.
























