Dune grass on the western coast of Sylt, the North Sea island off Schleswig-Holstein. A single building sits on a rise in the middle distance. The beach is nearly empty. This was early March 2022, the sky turning violet above the water.

When our second son was born, we took some time off in Sylt. We arrived in late February. I had been there in summer many years before, and even that was too cold. I was unsure what we would do for three weeks in the March cold with two small children. It turned out you can have a lot of fun at the ocean without actually dipping into it. We would often just stand on the beach and look at the water and the sky. It was a kind of sanctuary.

A much-needed one, because the human additions to the island are the worst combination of West German excess and austerity. Sylt is one of the most expensive places on earth, yet Westerland looks mainly like a run-down real estate nightmare. All the money goes into silly cars and handbags, leaving nothing for art or culture. People spend ten million on a hundred square meters of house and then rarely live there, using it for holidays, while the working class cannot afford to live on the island at all. If you are up early enough to catch the sunrise, you see the workers coming in by train.

But the beauty of the island makes up for a lot of the oddities.