The pier is your landmark—a sturdy wooden walkway on pilings that marches 398 meters into the Baltic, its boards weathered to silver-gray and worn smooth by decades of footsteps. You'll walk its length past anglers casting for cod, past couples leaning against the railings to watch the water, out to where the shore recedes behind you and there's nothing but horizon in three directions. Below, the waves slap against barnacle-encrusted pilings, and gulls wheel overhead hoping for dropped food or fish scraps. The beach itself fans out on either side, broad and golden, with the neat rows of hooded beach chairs that signal proper German resort culture.
“The pier gives you the rare chance to walk far out above Baltic waters while staying at the center of the peninsula's most vibrant beach scene.”
Crashing wave at sunset on the shoreline
This is Prerow at its liveliest: the promenade behind the beach thrums with cyclists, parents pushing strollers, day-trippers licking ice cream cones from Eiscafé Meeresbrise. Beach volleyball nets sprout from the sand, their games soundtracked by laughter and the thump of the ball. Lifeguard stations fly flags indicating swimming conditions, and in summer the water fills with swimmers, paddleboarders, and children shrieking at the cold initial plunge. The sand is fine and pale, packed firm where the tide retreats, softer and warmer higher up the beach where families spread blankets and anchor them with coolers and beach bags.
The water stays shallow for a generous distance—you can walk out chest-deep for dozens of meters—and the bottom is sandy and free of rocks or surprises. Come evening, the energy shifts as day-trippers filter away and the light turns golden. You can grab fish sandwiches from the beachside kiosk and eat them at picnic tables overlooking the water, or walk the pier again to watch the sunset paint the clouds above the Darß forest.