It is difficult to imagine this seaside resort behind an iron curtain, difficult to imagine the lives of others.  The town is quaint resembling California’s Carmel although in this instance the quaintness is real, not manufactured.

The soft white sands stretch along a broad windswept beach for nearly two miles.  Empty numbered basket chairs are arranged in neat little rows, facing away from the sea and prevailing winds, they seem designed for eavesdropping.  Nevertheless, first  impressions can be misleading.  Beneath the lighthouse sits the Teepott (Teapot). This thoroughly modern sculpted building looks post-unification but was actually constructed in 1960.  Administrations and appearances can be deceptive.

Margaret Leigh writing in 1941 (Driftwood and Tangle) of a disappearing life in the Scottish Highlands describes a burial-ground with its freight of memories and prayers slowly sinking into darkness.  These are communities which  died of natural causes brought on by progress; by contrast the disappearance of many similar communities across Europe was hastened by war and its aftermath.