Sylt Westerland Beach

Sylt is the northernmost German island, in the North Frisian chain, connected to the mainland by a causeway that carries only trains — cars are loaded onto them. The western side is a single beach running some forty kilometres, facing the open North Sea.

The island is losing itself and being rebuilt. Sylt has been eroding for centuries — its shape has changed measurably within living memory — and since the 1970s Germany has pumped sand from offshore onto the western beaches every year, in the order of a million cubic metres annually. It is one of the longest-running beach nourishment programmes in the world, and without it the island would have been cut in two.

The beach is fine pale quartz sand with dunes behind, real North Sea surf, and reliable wind, which has made Sylt a German surfing and kitesurfing centre despite water that reaches perhaps 18°C in August. Strandkörbe — hooded wicker beach chairs — are hired by the day and are a north German institution. Sections of the beach are designated naturist, a practice with a long history here. The island's shape has changed enough within two centuries that maps from the 1800s show a coastline that no longer exists.

Development is resort towns — Westerland, Kampen, List — with a reputation for wealth that is well earned; Sylt is among the most expensive addresses in Germany. Ellenbogen at the northern tip is the emptiest part of the island, and the Wadden Sea side behind the dunes is a national park where the mudflat walks run at low tide.

An island being eaten by the sea and pumped back into place at a million cubic metres a year. Sylt is the best place in Europe to see coastal defence at the scale it actually requires, and the Strandkorb is the correct way to sit through a North Sea afternoon. Nobody comes here for warm water and nobody pretends to.