BIKE ADVENTURES
From Potsdam to Jüterbog and back: over 100 km on a bike
Brick gothic and night riding under the rain
It was one of those gloomy spring days when you don’t want to stick your nose out of the cozy home. So, anyway, I decided to go somewhere on a bike. I chose Jüterbog, a lovely town with medieval architecture 70 km south of Berlin. And since it was a bit far, I took a train to Potsdam and started my adventure there.
I rode through Potsdam fast to finally get out of the city with all its buzz and rush. The first place I reached was Tremsdorf, a tiny village without any sign of life apart from a couple of gorgeous storks on a barn. They were busy with their stork stuff in the nest and seemed not to see me.
It was pretty chilly: around 10°C, plus a light cold wind. But nature was in full spring mode. Look at this field of green grass and dandelions.
I rode for around an hour without seeing anything remarkable but then noticed this — St. John’s Church in Blankensee (1926), an incredible example of Modernist architecture. This building contains a single huge hall under a double-arched roof! Just imagine how disruptive it should’ve looked in the 1920s if it doesn’t resemble a typical church even today.
Then there were more fields and more juicy-green grass that looked like someone tuned its saturation to a maximum in Photoshop. In one of the yards stood a cute scarecrow surrounded by grazing chickens.
Then I realized why I didn’t see people in the villages — they were busy with farming chores. For me, as a city dweller, spring is just another season, not a sowing, fertilizing, and irrigating time. The photo below reminds me of Pieter Bruegel’s painting “The Hunters in the Snow,” which also depicts tiny silhouettes of people in the background.
Although my destination was Jüterbog, I did not resist the pleasure of exploring everything on the way there. For example, here is Schönhagen Airfield. It was opened in the 1930s as an emergency landing site of the Luftwaffe air base in Trebbin and housed a gliding school run by a Nazi paramilitary sports organization.
Nowadays, Schönhagen Airfield accommodates a gliding club and flight school; it has been significantly expanded and modernized lately. I even saw the take-off of two light planes from afar.
In another village, Ahrensdorf, I found a gorgeous artwork made of welded horseshoes. This red horse statue combines so harmoniously with a turquoise-accented house in the background!
Apart from naive art, I adore village fire stations like the one in the photo below. It looks like a scale model rather than an actual building.
I covered three-fourths of my way to Jüterbog and arrived in Luckenwalde, a small town with some remarkable ancient architecture.
Luckenwalde is located in the place of an earlier Slavic village, Lugkin. In the early 10th century, it had a wooden castle with a rampart, palisade, and ditches. In the course of the German conquest, the wooden fortification was demolished and replaced by stone buildings.
Although there are no documented records about the construction of St. John’s Church, it was probably built in the 12th century by nuns and monks of the Cistercian Order whose mother church was the Zinna Monastery in Jüterbog (I’ll show it in a minute).
St. John’s Church was initially small and made of fieldstone, but in the second half of the 15th century, it was significantly expanded in the brick Gothic style. There is also a massive medieval tower behind the church, but I didn’t take a good close-up photo — dozens of parked cars spoiled the view.
After a quick lunch in Luckenwalde, I rode to Zinna Abbey on the northern outskirt of Jüterbog. The settlement surrounding the monastery was unexpectedly charming, with well-groomed houses painted in different colors and lovely Easter decorations.
The abbey was founded around 1170 by the Archbishop of Magdeburg after his troops had conquered the former Slavic land.
Germans fought a lot in the Middle Ages with West Slavs, namely Polabian Slavs, who were pagans and had settled in this region since the 6th century. Polabian Slavs were defeated and assimilated; they aren’t direct ancestors of any modern-day Slavic nations.
The monastery was built in the marshes of the Nuthe River, and monks had a hard time draining the land. In the 13th century, when the abbey’s wealth grew, they bought the town of Luckenwalde and a dozen surrounding villages. But later, the abbey experienced a period of decline, ending with the Protestant Reformation in 1553.
The sky gradually got darker, and I had to rush to see Juterbog in the soft evening light before sunset. Fortunately, it was only 4 km away.
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Finally — Jüterbog!
I entered the city through the medieval Zinna Gate. It was 8 p.m., exactly the sunset time on that day. I had only half an hour or so to take pictures while the light was favorable for photography.
Before we continue, here are a couple of quick facts:
- Jüterbog was first mentioned in historical records in the 10th century and is three centuries older than Berlin.
- The town was a member of the Hanseatic League, a medieval trade and defensive coalition of merchant guilds and market towns (mainly the territory of modern Germany, Netherlands, and Poland).
- It was home to a Nazi tank division during the Second World War.
- After the war, Jüterbog was part of East Germany, and 40 thousand Soviet troops garrisoned here in Nazi-era barracks.
- Nowadays, the population of Jüterbog is 12 thousand people.
Jüterbog has quite a few medieval buildings, including churches and fortifications. It has several sections of the defensive wall and ditch and three well-preserved city gates with barbicans.
So, you’ve seen the Zinna Gate, and here is the New Market Gate, the eastern entrance to the town.
Although the largest medieval structure in Jüterbog is St. Nicholas Church (1307–1488), I didn’t come very close to it since it’s undergoing renovation, and its facades are covered with scaffolding.
But what we can enjoy in full beauty instead is a majestic medieval town hall (1285–1510).
It underwent numerous remodelings and reconstructions but preserved its distinct Gothic features. Its facade overlooks a large square, making it comfortable to examine and photograph.
Then I visited the Damm Gate, the biggest and best-preserved gatehouse accompanied by towers. Just like the other town gates, it consisted of an outer gate, an inner gate, and a walled yard in between. Unfortunately, the archway was demolished in 1851 because the narrow and low passage obstructed traffic.
I counted a dozen ancient towers in the town. It’s such a huge contrast with Berlin and Potsdam, where you won’t find anything medieval: it was either destroyed in wars or replaced with trendier Baroque and Neoclassical buildings as the cities grew and flourished.
Now, the final interesting place; surprisingly, it’s located behind the old town walls. The Church of Our Lady is Jüterbog’s oldest religious building; it was first mentioned in 1161 and soon became the main church in the whole region. One of its three bells dates back to 1471! As for the interior, the only fragment of medieval painting remained in a window arch.
And then it got too dark for photos. It seemed that I had checked all the main sites and could return to Berlin. My way back went through the town of Treuenbrietzen northwest of Jüterbog. It might’ve been not the smartest decision to go back by bike instead of taking a train.
First, I pedaled 15 kilometers in almost complete darkness through the forest. Then, it started raining, and I quickly got soaked to the skin. But it didn’t stop me from noticing other exciting things. Just take a look at these decorative cats on a house.
It’s so cheesy that even beautiful.
I wish it were not so late and I had more energy to explore Treuenbrietzen. The town has several medieval churches, a fragment of the ancient wall, and cute half-timbered houses. Despite the rain, I couldn’t help but take at least one picture of those houses.
It was midnight. I was riding to Beelitz under the rain, which stopped only closer to the town. I had no carb snacks left in my bag and felt exhausted as hell, almost falling off the bike. Besides, I couldn’t sit down somewhere to rest because my clothes were wet and would have frozen even more.
Lucky me! I managed to get to a 24/7 gas station near the northern border of Beelitz. I left the bike at the entrance, ordered a huge cappuccino, burger, and chocolate bar, sat on a chair, and called my wife to tell her that everything was okay and I had a plan B.
The plan was to wait at the gas station for a couple of hours, until 3:30 a.m., then ride 4 kilometers to the nearest train station in Seddiner See, where I would take the earliest train to Berlin. I was at home at 5 a.m., which is kinda symbolic if you recall the title of my blog.
Would I repeat such a crazy journey someday? — Yes.
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