The Colossus of Prora may sound like a piece of ancient history, but don’t be fooled by the name. This giant of a building (originally the longest in the world at a massive 4.5km) was built on the holiday island of Rügen by the Nazi party between the two World Wars.

Prora was planned to be an all-inclusive resort on an unprecedented scale, a new kind of tourism for the masses with 20,000 beds. It was the prototype of a handful of mega resorts intended by Adolf Hitler to create a nation of ‘people with strong nerves’, so they wouldn’t fail in a fight.

You can see why this location on the causeway-connected island of Rügen was chosen. The 10km beach here is of magnificent silky white sand, and back in the early 20^th century it was already attracting elite holidaymakers, who built themselves handsome villas in the fashionable spa settlement of Binz, at the beach’s south-eastern end.

Prora, however, was intended for the masses, but it never opened. It was just nearing completion when World War II broke out, and after Germany’s defeat it was garrisoned by Soviet troops, who blew bits of it up, for fun. The Stasi, the secret police, took over the remains for a while, and then for many years it was left to fall apart, shrouded in trees.

But now this sleeping giant has been reborn. In the course of the past decade, the five blocks still standing of the original eight have become a mix of hotel, youth hostel and luxury apartments.  Today, serried rows of glass balconies glint in the sun, each six-storey block slightly different to its neighbour, extending into the distance as far as the eye can see. Swimming pools sit out front, and at its road-served back, there’s newly-planted saplings and an endless repetition of protruding stairwells every 50 metres. There are a couple of spa hotels – the Dormero and the Solitaire – and a sprinkling of coffee shops, restaurants and a supermarket in the centre.

There is, however, very little reference to the building’s history, apart from in the dowdy looking Documentation Centre, where the exhibition MACHTUrlaub (‘make holidays’) fills in the detail. Here you learn how the centralised design was such that guests would have had to walk as far as 2.2km through the interconnected buildings, carrying their luggage, to reach their rooms. And how the daily programme would have included parades and communal games which may not have been described as compulsory, but there would have been informers amongst the holidaymakers, noting the non-participants. It was a matter of ‘have fun, or else’.

Along the shore

The beach itself is serenely unchanged since Prora was conceived, apart from lavish new (slightly military-looking) lifeguard posts, and regular signboards announcing ‘textilfrei’ stretches. During the post-war GDR times, FKK or Freikörperkultur was a big deal for people who wanted to experience some sense of freedom in the face of an unduly repressive state.

The original resort of Binz itself remains a period piece. The sand is demarcated with neat ranks of Strandkörbe, wicker beach chairs, which can be rotated to face the sun whilst turning their backs to the wind. There’s a pier, a bandstand outside the grand Kurhaus, and a shaded shoreside promenade that is lined with stalls selling trinkets and Milchreis, rice pudding with fruit puree.

Inland, villas of distinctive Bäder architecture, a mix of art nouveau and Long Island clapperboard, line its streets behind white picket fences with their ornate wooden balconies, rooftop gables, octagons, lanterns, and domes. Once private properties, with staff, they are now mostly sub-divided into apartments.

Binz is no longer a posh place for holidays, although the key activities are still the same:  a steamer still runs from the end of the pier to the chalk cliffs of the Königsstuhl, or King’s Chair, which were memorably painted by Caspar David Friedrich, the 19^th century Romantic landscape painter who played a big part in making Rügen popular.  And the ‘Raging Roland’ steam train still weaves its way along the coast to subsidiary resorts of Sellin, Baabe and Göhren, chugging past allotments and through thin forests of oak and beech, dappled with sunlight and laced with footpaths.

A small coastal town in Germany’s Schleswig-holstein not far from the border with Denmark, Eckernförde has more than a touch of Danish hygge. Some of the port buildings alongside the creek are painted that rusty red typical of Scandinavian countries, and the narrow cobbled lanes lined with half-timbered fishermen’s cottages look to be straight out of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairytales, particularly where the wooden lifting footbridge spans the narrows in the port.

Not so long ago this was primarily a fishing town, famous for its silver harvest of sprats and herring, which used to be prolific in these parts of the Baltic. A century ago there were as many as 47 smokeries in town, preserving the fish for winter consumption; all but one are now closed, and the one in Gudewerdtstrasse is now a very authentic Alte Fischräucherei museum run by volunteers.

These days Eckernförde is better known as an Ostseebad, a spa resort, which means the beach is thick with Strandkorb beachbasket chairs, including a new line that you can actually stay in overnight. You can see why the place is popular, because the beach itself is three miles of gentle sands, beautifully protected at the back of a sheltered bay, backed by a promenade dotted with little cafes.

Fish food

You can still eat fish here, of course. Notably in the rather unremarkable-looking Meergold restaurant/shop in Jungfernsteig, where good value fish lunches (including herring) are super fresh. For top-end cuisine, Fischdeel (Kattsund 22) is a proper gastronomic experience, with engaging chef Torsten Schott regularly popping out of his kitchen to find out exactly what his customers want.

Some of that fish is still landed in the small port, where you can often buy direct from the fishermen themselves. Otherwise the port often has vintage tall-masted sailing ships berthed here, with the quayside itself backed by newly-developed coffee places and upmarket apartments.

Unlike many a beach resort Eckernförde is a proper town, and whilst a lot of the shops are craft- and gift-oriented for the holiday visitor, it also has all the normal high street activity required to sustain a community outside the holiday seasons. One particular feather in its cap is the annual nature documentary festival ‘Green Screen’, which takes place here every September, when the small town brims over with international film makers and broadcasters.

All in all, it’s a charming mix of Danish and German port-beach-town, and worth seeking out.

After months of non-stop work, I convinced my sister Mia to get away for a few days and spend some quality time together, on a luxury trip along the Baltic Coast of Germany.

Our starting point was to be Berlin, but before we set off northwards for our ten-day scenic drive, we had a bit of time in the city for a little sightseeing.

The last time I was in Berlin was back in the winter for a friend’s art exhibition and it rained the entire time, so now, with gorgeous early summer weather, I was excited to walk around a bit. We headed out and hit the classic sights, grabbing a quick lunch at a bistro on Alexanderplatz, a square where much of Berlin’s urban history is captured, and then walking along the remains of the Berlin Wall. Mia had never been to the East Side Gallery before, where the Wall is covered in murals, and that’s one of my favourite places in Berlin. It is such a strong statement.

We were lucky enough to be staying in the Rocco Forte Hotel de Rome, right by the Museum Island, and walked back to the hotel past Berlin’s iconic monuments as the sun started to set. Dinner in the hotel’s La Banca restaurant was a foretaste of the sea: I had salt baked cod with wild herbs.

Next day we hopped into our rented convertible and headed for the coast. The drive was serene and remarkably beautiful, and the Baltic, when it came into sight, was a hue of deep cobalt blue.

Our first stop was Stralsund, a charming Hanseatic town, and the gateway to the beautiful island of Rugen. We took a short walk around the city’s old square before crossing the bridge.

Rugen itself is spectacular and was undoubtedly the highlight of our trip. The island is untouched and picturesque, surrounded by vast strands of white sandy or pebble beaches set against chalk white cliffs. In our time here, we went on a hike along the cliff-lined peninsula to Rugen’s easternmost point. We then emerged from amongst the thick trees onto the white sandy south beach, where it was bathed by crystal clear water.

Rugen is famous as a spa destination, and our hotel, the Travel Charme Kurhaus Binz, housed the splendid Puria Spa, so after an active day we could sign up for the likes of Hawaiian hot stone treatment.

After Rugen, we turned the car towards Hamburg, stopping in Schwerin to visit the city’s castle, a veritable Disneyland, complete with turrets, fortifications and elongated spires.

And then we were in Hamburg itself, a fashionable and artistic city, which provided the perfect final destination. Our trip ended with some dazzling shopping and a great dinner in the Jacob’s Hotel restaurant, which has two Michelin stars.

Nicole Harris is a travel and lifestyle journalist for Luxuria Magazine, a publication of Europe Luxury Car Hire. 

This is the time of year that tourism boards from the northern coasts of Germany start to cover their websites with images of one particular piece of outdoor furniture: the Strandkorb. If you don’t know what I am referring to, then see the lead picture on our Facebook page.

There’s no direct translation for Strandkorb – ‘beach chair’ isn’t sufficient – because they don’t exist in English-speaking countries. On UK beaches, we tend to erect flimsy plastic windbreaks and then cower behind them, but the German solution for cold, wind-blown beaches is far more effective; a substantial adjustable wickerwork half-hut which can be rotated like a sunflower to catch the rays, whilst protecting its occupants from the wind.

Proper Strandkorbs have room enough for two in the padded and lined interior, plus a protective hood, a sun visor, fold-out foot rests, stowable tray tables and compact storage behind your ankles. Give them a set of wheels and a decent motor and they’d probably keep up with most traffic on the autobahns, too.

They have a proper lineage, having been invented in 1882 under Emperor Wilhelm I by Wilhelm Bartelmann, chief basketmaker to the imperial court who came up with the design after an elderly aristocratic lady suffering from rheumatism asked him to build a seat that would protect her from the wind and sun on the beach.

You don’t have to be elderly or rheumatic to get the best out of them. Strandkorbs are usually for rent for around €8/10 per day, and you can buy them (in Germany) for around €3-400. Transporting them elsewhere in the world will be costly, of course, but if you take the plunge and invest, you could be the envy of your neighbours, sitting snug in your back garden, tanning gently whilst the cold wind howls all around.

The Baltic Coast with its 2,000 km of sandy beaches is the kind of place people come to again and again. The scenery is varied and includes high cliffs, forests and green lands. Islands like Usedom or Rügen are perfect for beach holidays and don’t worry, you don’t have to take your clothes off if you’re not so inclined.

Rügen, Germany’s biggest German island,  connected to the mainland via a dam, is famous for its limestone cliffs that feature in the works of the romantic painter Caspar David Friedrich. Beaches are wide and white such as the Schaabe with beautiful dunes and 10km of sands, or the beach at the resort of Binz with shallow waters, making it suitable for children. From here, sunbathers have also great views on the white cliffs nearby. Speaking of sun, Rügen has on average 30 percent more sun than the rest of Germany. And yes, it can get really hot here.

A real jewel is Hiddensee, a tiny island just off Rügen, with a stunning lighthouse, 15km of beaches and no cars at all – verboten. The idea here is to first rent yourself a Strandkorb, one of the roofed wicker beach chairs to be found on every German beach and invented in the 19^th century by one Wilhem Bartelmann in Rostock. And then simply relax. No stress, just nature and peace.

Usedom, a bit further east off the Baltic Coast and also known as “Berlin’s bathtub”, has fantastic beaches and is very much liked by families. The Kaiserbäder (Emperor’s spas) Heringsdorf, Ahlbeck and Bansin were frequently visited by Wilhelm II, hence the name “Emperor’s spas”, and have beautiful promenades, lined by magnificent villas. The promenade connecting Ahlbeck and Heringsdorf is a particular treat for a relaxed stroll with lots of elegant architecture on the way. In Heringsdorf, Ahlbeck, Bansin and Zinnowitz visitors can also admire the famous piers, the Seebrücken.

Breathtaking landscape and a quiet pace of life

Very much recommended by locals is also the Darß peninsula with nice beaches between Prerow and Zingst. The landscape here is breathtaking and the pace of life quiet. Apart from the islands, the mainland of the Baltic Coast offers plenty of beaching options as well. Timmendorfer Strand is arguably the most famous Baltic beach, 6 km long and with a wealth of sports and leisure facilities. The beach at Nienhagen is a favourite for divers and nature lovers and next to the Gespensterwald (ghost forest) with interesting flora and fauna.

And there’s, of course, Heiligendamm. The small seaside resort , also called “white town by the sea” because of the ubiquity of white buildings lining the sea, and its Grand Hotel Heiligendamm have seen many a celebrity, past and present. Most recently, the participants of the G8 summit in 2008 managed to squeeze into one gigantic, specially made Strandkorb there. You can get one all by yourself. All you need to do is choose a favourite beach.