The windmill at Straupitz is a Dutch-style tower mill, a plump, whitewashed thing with a turning cap and four long sails, standing at the edge of a Spreewald village that otherwise looks as if it belongs in an illustrated children's book. It is a working museum these days, and the sails creak in a good breeze. It is only part of the reason to stop. A few hundred metres away stands the village church, built in the 1820s and 1830s to a design of Karl Friedrich Schinkel, a big, round-arched brick building with a surprising grandeur, sometimes called the cathedral of the Spreewald.
Straupitz belongs to the Sorbian, or Wendish, country, the home of a Slavic minority that has lived in Lusatia for over a thousand years. Place names appear in two languages on the signs, and in some villages older women still wear the elaborate folk costume and headdress on feast days. The cuisine is distinctive. Spreewald gherkins, sold in jars everywhere, are famous, and a plate of boiled potatoes with quark and linseed oil is a local dish worth trying at least once.
The landscape is flat and watery. The Spree splits here into a maze of small channels, with alder carr, wet meadows and little farms on raised mounds, and in summer the whole area is full of green light. The roads are straight and quiet, with avenues of old oaks and poplars, and the bends come when the road meets a channel. The surface is generally good, though in places it has the patched look of a road that floods. Mist and midges are common near the water, and cyclists fill the lanes at weekends, so give them room. Spring and early autumn are lovely.
Practically, Straupitz has a small shop and an inn, and the nearest fuel is in Burg, about nine kilometres away, with more at Lübbenau. Neu Zauche, closer by, is a tiny village. Take cash, because some places do not take cards. A visit to the windmill and church takes an hour, and the nearby cafes sell gherkin rolls and cake, which makes a good lunch for riders short on time.