The coast between Kühlungsborn and Rerik is the one stretch of this part of Mecklenburg that has any drama. The land here rises into a low cliff of clay and sand, a metre-by-metre record of the ice age, and the Baltic keeps chewing at it so that trees lean out over the edge and every storm drops a slice onto the beach. Stand back from the lip when you take a photo. The ground is softer than it looks, and the sea does not care about a view.
Rerik itself, a small resort on the Salzhaff lagoon, sits just beyond. The Salzhaff is a shallow, brackish inlet separated from the open sea by a narrow peninsula, popular with kitesurfers and with birdwatchers, since waders and geese gather in large numbers outside the summer season. A Slavic trading place called Reric is mentioned in medieval sources, and historians still argue about whether it stood here or somewhere nearer Wismar, so you can pick your side of the argument over a fish sandwich.
Near Bastorf, a few minutes away, a small lighthouse from the late nineteenth century stands on a wooded rise, a quiet corner that few visitors reach. The roads that lead to it are narrow country lanes, often lined with old trees, and much of this coastal belt is reached by two-lane roads with no hurry in them. The best light for pictures comes either in the early morning, when mist hangs over the fields, or in the evening, when the sky over the water goes pink and the cliff catches the last sun.
Fuel is not available in Bastorf, which is a tiny village. The nearest proper stop is Kühlungsborn, about eleven kilometres back, where you will find petrol stations and shops, and Rerik also has basic supplies. Weather matters on this coast. A cold wind from the north-east can strip the warmth out of a day even in June, and gusts across open fields make a loaded bike twitchy. Dress for the sea rather than for the road, and carry a waterproof layer, because a clear sky here can change in half an hour.