Kremmen sits at the edge of a marsh, and the roads around it are a lesson in how the Mark Brandenburg was made. The ground here is the Rhinluch, a broad, low-lying fen of peat and sand that was drained, diked and farmed from the eighteenth century onward, and the word Luch means exactly that, a wet meadow.
The moor is a place for birds. In autumn, thousands of cranes gather in the fields of the Rhinluch to feed before moving south, and their calls carry for miles across the flat land at dawn and dusk. White storks nest on roofs and poles in the villages, geese pass overhead in long skeins, and in the wet meadows, lapwings and curlews still turn up. The landscape is subtle, with long horizons, rows of willows, canals and the smell of wet earth and cut grass. Mist often lies on the fields in the morning.
For riders, the moor roads are straight and level, with long views and the occasional causeway raised above the fen. Surfaces are patchy, with cracks and sinks where the peat has settled, so keep an eye out for bumps, especially after a wet spring. Wind can be strong, and rain squalls cross the plain quickly. The old brick-paved village lanes are slippery when wet. It is quiet riding, good for easing off the pace and watching the sky. Early morning and evening are the best times, when the light is soft and the cranes are active.
Practically, Kremmen has a fuel station, a supermarket, bakeries and a couple of inns, and Velten and Leegebruch, about twelve kilometres away, have larger services. Berlin is within an easy ride, and the regional train from Kremmen goes in. In the autumn, you can hear the cranes from the road, so stop the engine and listen. Keep the tank topped before heading out on the quieter roads, because there is little between villages.