Schleswig lies at the head of the Schlei, a long, narrow inlet of the Baltic that reaches inland like a fjord and gives the town the feel of a harbour that forgot the sea. The old part is a gentle, slightly sprawling affair: a cathedral with a tall brick spire visible from the water, a baroque castle called Gottorf on an island across the way, and, down by the water, a remarkable fishermen's settlement called Holm, a little village of small houses grouped around a churchyard and a tiny chapel.
Of everything here, Holm is the one to walk. The houses are low and tidy, painted in gentle colours, with cats on the doorsteps and nets still stored in sheds. It has been fishermen's territory for centuries, and you can feel that the place had a rhythm of its own long before cars. The cathedral, with its altar carved by Hans Brüggemann in the sixteenth century, is a short walk off and worth a look if it is open.
The region has deeper layers. A few kilometres away lie the remains of Haithabu, or Hedeby, a Viking trading town that was one of the biggest in northern Europe a thousand years ago and now has a museum and reconstructed houses. It is on the UNESCO list, and visiting it explains why the Schlei has been a crossing place for so long. Schleswig was long a border town between Danes and Germans, and the history of that tug of war runs through the region's language and culture, including a place for Danish minority schools.
For riders, the town is a good stopping point. It has about twenty-four thousand people, so fuel, supermarkets and food are no problem, and the waterfront has places to sit with a coffee and a fish roll. The approach roads in from Kiel, Eckernförde or Flensburg are quiet agricultural lanes, flat to gently rolling, lined with hedgerows known as Knicks. Cobbles in the old town are rough and the streets narrow, so park on the outskirts. Morning is calm and the water is flat, and that is the best time to see it.