Hollingstedt is a village of only a thousand people, but a thousand years ago it was a harbour that connected two seas. Ships came up the Treene, a slow, winding river that runs from the North Sea marshes, as far as Hollingstedt, and from there goods were carried by wagon the last few kilometres across the neck of the peninsula to Hedeby on the Baltic side. It was the western half of a transport system that let Viking traders avoid the dangerous voyage around the tip of Denmark, and the Danevirke was built to guard the land bridge between them.
Archaeologists have found traces of the old river port, including wooden structures and boat parts, and the Treene valley still has a damp, secret quality. The river meanders through meadows, alder carrs and reed beds, with herons standing in the shallows. The Crooked Wall, a section of the Danevirke named for its bend, runs through the country east of here, one of the more irregular pieces of the whole system. It follows the edge of a wet valley and the contours of the land with a looseness that suggests it was dug in a hurry.
The riding here is lovely in a modest way. Roads run through flat farmland and along the river, with big skies and long views, and the villages are small and neat. Groß Rheide and Silberstedt, both a few kilometres off, are the nearest neighbours. Surfaces are generally good, but farm traffic leaves mud and straw, and in autumn the leaf litter can be slippery. The wind from the west is a steady companion.
For fuel and a proper meal, the nearest sizeable place is Kropp, about ten kilometres away, and Schleswig is not much further. Hollingstedt has a small inn and a bakery at best. It is a place to stop for ten minutes at the river and let your mind wander back to the long ships and the rolling wagons. In May the meadows are yellow with buttercups, and the water is full of the sound of frogs.