The Grand Hotel Heiligendamm, first built in 1793, quickly became a spa retreat for the aristocracy of central Europe. But it has been a struggle to keep in going in modern times.

The Latin inscription on the pediment above the Tuscan-style columns of the Kurhaus reads Heic Te Laetitia Invitat Post Balnea Sanum. Which loosely translates as ‘joy awaits you as you emerge from your bath’.

A sentiment that is not so original, perhaps, given how many hotels today have spas, but then this is the Grand Hotel Heiligendamm, first established in 1793, which makes it Germany’s oldest and smartest seaside hotel.

The property was first established here, on the Baltic coast a dozen miles west of Rostock, at the instigation of the Duke of Schwerin. Besides the Kurhaus with its classicist facade, it comprises seven historic white mansions, surrounded by beechwoods on either side and with sweeping lawns down to a pier and a sandy beach.

It quickly became patronized by German aristocracy, by literati such as Proust and Rilke, and even by Russia’s Tsar Nicholas I. At its peak in the mid 19^th century it was a meeting place for Europe’s rich and famous, who came to bathe in the Baltic and to gamble at the first horse-racing course in Germany.  But then came two World Wars, the dismal curtain of communism, closure and decay.

Today it is back, and determined to roll back the years.

In truth, the Grand hasn’t had an easy ride even since it re-opened, post-reunification. In two short decades it was transformed from a crumbling ruin to a luxury Kempinski-steered property chosen by Angela Merkel to host 2007’s G8 summit. But despite all the associated publicity, complete with that iconic image of the world leaders in one giant tailor-made strandkorb (basketwork beach chair), it was bankrupt by 2012.

In truth, there were always going to be problems with trying to re-establish an elite beach resort on the Baltic in the era of easy air travel to the Med. Especially with no airport nearby.

Back in the day, the glitterati used to arrive at the Grand on a dedicated steam railway, built specifically to chuff them right to the front door. Today, the Molli, although charming, is more of a curiosity than a method of travel.

Then there’s the issue of retaining quality staff in a relatively remote location. Particularly because Mecklenburg-Vorpommern is the poorest of the German states, where old anti-capitalist attitudes still prevail. Moreover the beach at Heiligendamm is not much to write home about.

When it went bust in 2012, the hotel’s Perlenkette (pearl necklace) of villas had to be sold, and have since been reconstituted as luxury apartments. The remaining core buildings were bought by Paul Morzynski, a tax accountant from Hanover, who is working to re-establish the hotel by concentrating on the spa, the sanctity of the enclave and the quality of the food.

With these things in mind, he has added a spacious outdoor pool and seasonal staff accommodation. Interiors have been refreshed with silk fabrics, marble and brocade. All of it, of course, in the best possible taste.

Following the collapse of East Germany’s German Democratic Republic 30 years ago, a number of towns and cities emerged as hitherto undiscovered. Because of their eastern location they were largely undamaged by wartime bombing and their architectural splendour survived the worst of the GDR town planning.

Among such towns are Görlitz, profiled elsewhere on this site, and Schwerin, 20 miles south of Wismar and inland from the Baltic coast. Once the historic seat of the Dukes of Mecklenburg, the town, with a population just under 100,000, had always played second fiddle to its larger industrial neighbour Rostock, particularly during the days of the GDR. Rostock, as a state-supported shipbuilding city, was much more in keeping with the image the country wanted to present.

However once the reunification of Germany was completed and the Land of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern was re-established, the decision was made to restore Schwerin to its rightful place as the state capital.

Neuschwanstein of the north

The jewel in the architecture of the city, Schwerin Castle henceforth became the seat of the parliament of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern. In the 19^th century the building had been the ducal residence but in 1918, as the duchy ceased to exist, the castle had become the property of the state.

A castle has stood on the site of the current building since the latter years of the first millennium. The town was an important location in the medieval quest to extend eastwards along the Baltic coast. However as the frontiers of Prussia moved east, the requirements for the castle changed and it could become more of a showpiece.

Accordingly, when the current castle was built in the mid 19^th century by a group of architects including Gottfried Semper (who was responsible for building the Semper Oper in Dresden) they created one of the finest Renaissance buildings in northern Germany. It has been dubbed the Neuschwanstein of the north.

The castle can be visited daily all year round (closed Mondays) and guided tours are available. Alternatively you can take a tour of the castle gardens, one of the finest gardens to mix baroque with classical English design.

Undoubtedly the best way to appreciate views of the castle and the town is by boat, cruising on one of the many lakes surrounding the town, the largest of which (indeed one of the largest in Germany) is the Schweriner See. These trips run from March until October and can be caught from the pier by the castle. They offer great views of the Castle and the town beyond.

The town as a whole, despite its modest size, punches well above its weight and has well and truly shaken off its GDR past. It has undoubtedly become one of the liveliest and most vibrant towns in northern Germany. – Mark Arrol

Let’s face it, the popular tourist destination of Baden-Württemberg is a helluva mouthful for non-German-speaking visitors. It has a poor brand profile on the international market, and it doesn’t have much recognition factor either. You might know (part of) it better as the Black Forest. In fact, most visitors to the Black Forest will know nothing of Baden-Württemberg.

Another very popular region, the Rhineland-Palatinate, is a bit of a challenge, too, sounding like a cross between a type of rock and a metro station.

Mecklenburg-Vorpommern is even worse. It sounds like a disease that horses might get.

But these are key tourism destinations in Germany; besides the Black Forest, Baden-Württemberg has automotive capital Stuttgart, lovely vineyards and ancient cities like Heidelberg. Happily the regional tourism board has appreciated the problem and substituted a couple of new names for the ‘official’ title, calling the region variously ‘Southwest Germany’, which is rather nebulous, and the ‘Sunny Side of Germany’, which seems like they’re trying harder.

Meanwhile Rhineland-Palatinate, a region to the north of B-W which includes the lovely Mosel valley and the vineyards and castles of the Rhine, has subtitled itself as ‘Romantic Germany’, which just about works, although it is pretty unhelpful when you try to find it on a map.

Over in the east, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern is one of Germany’s biggest landes covering a huge area north of Berlin which includes extensive lakeland and Germany’s most striking coastline, all the way along the Baltic Sea. Its official translated name is ‘Mecklenburg Western Pomerania’, but that clearly is no help at all, so it has taken to subtitling itself the ‘Best of Northern Germany’. Or even just ‘MeckPomm’ to its friends.

And that, in the end, may be the way ahead. If Mecklenburg-Vorpommern is MeckPomm, then Rhineland-Palatinate could be RhinePal, which means Baden-Württemberg becomes… BadWürt. Ah well, two of three ain’t bad.