I have always been a big fan of twinning...
First, my nephews are the greatest set ever born. Don’t @ me.
Second, my wonderful hometown of Cleethorpes has been twinned with Königswinter in Germany since 1974. One of the most active and enduring of such partnerships, its roots go back to the youth exchange trips of the 1960s that were so successful the towns made it official.
Put a ring on it, if you will...
Inspiring, some forty-one years later, my beloved German husband to do the same (you see what I did there) after meeting at the wedding of my exchange partner Anne, his dear childhood friend, and despite his controversial decision to take part in the French exchange himself.
It was Cognac, to be fair, but I digress...
And what does all this have to do with Sienna, you ask? Well, her stories began in and around the spectacular landscape of Cornwall’s Lizard Peninsula, the southernmost tip of mainland UK. Unfortunately, this magnificent place was hard enough to get to even when I lived in London. Moving to Berlin added further complexity to the mix, especially in those years when international travel was a little more complicated, shall we say? So, when writing the novelisation, I went on the hunt for the Lizard’s twin, its German exchange partner.
This made for an interesting challenge. Germany is surrounded by nine different countries, or ten, if you count Bavaria*, leaving very little room for coastline (2,389km to the UK’s 12,000km) and narrowing the search to just three northern states. And then, at the very top of the country, I discovered it, a little** island called Rügen.
There, alongside the beautiful towns of Binz, Sellin and Sassnitz, you’ll find Jasmund, Germany's smallest national park and home to some of the most breathtaking coastal scenery in northern Europe. And rocks. And beaches. And crashing waves. And mystery. And that I’ve-been-here-before-even-though-I-haven’t feeling. And my search was over. I had found it.
Now, I return time and again to write, seek inspiration, and, if we’re being very honest, collect some of the best thinking pebbles*** ever. It sates a certain homesickness that never really leaves me.
These two peninsulas: Lizard, forged from the brooding darkness of its ancient serpentine, and Jasmund, risen from the ethereal white chalk of a prehistoric sea floor. Geographic opposites that somehow share a soul, a feeling, a connection. A place for those of us who sometimes need to stand at the edge of the earth to feel at home.
And the closest thing to Porthpenn without a passport...
* This joke will get me in trouble in the south and a beer in the north.
** I know, to a Brit, 926 square kilometres is a lot; this is artistic licence.
*** A truly great thinking pebble must be smooth, rounded and fit perfectly between your fingers as you pass it through them. OBVIOUSLY, I left them all on the beaches where I found them.
Did you know?
Royal & Romantic Obsessions: Both peninsulas became national sensations in the 1800s. Queen Victoria was so enamoured with the dark, polished serpentine of the Lizard that she ordered it for her royal residence, Osborne House. Meanwhile, Caspar David Friedrich made Jasmund’s chalk cliffs the face of German Romanticism, painting them as ‘a gateway to the infinite’.
The First Global Signals: These remote outposts were both the “ears” of their nations. While Marconi sent the first transatlantic radio signal from Poldhu on the Lizard in 1901, Rügen was the primary telegraphic and radio hub for Germany, acting as the vital link between the mainland and the Baltic world.
Guardians of the Deep: Both coastlines are famously treacherous. The Manacles reef off the Lizard is one of the most haunted ship graveyards in the Atlantic. To match this, the Cape Arkona lighthouses on Rügen were built as some of the earliest beacons in the Baltic to navigate ships through shifting sandbanks.
Geological Crafts: The earth here provides the industry. For centuries, Lizard artisans have polished dark serpentine into intricate ornaments. On Rügen, its “Healing Chalk” is widely used in traditional Baltic spas for its medicinal properties.