Port of Wismar, Germany | Cruise Port Guide

In 1922, filmmaker Friedrich Murnau was searching for a setting for his vampire film Nosferatu. He chose Wismar, with its Gothic lanes and old harbour basin. A century later, this Baltic city in northern Germany has lost none of its character, though sunshine has replaced the shadows. Dark red brick, ornate gables and seagulls on the cobblestones: listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site alongside its twin city of Stralsund since 2002, Wismar offers visitors one of the most complete collections of Hanseatic architecture in northern Germany.

From the Pier to the Old Harbour

Ships dock in the port’s industrial area, about a 15-minute walk from the centre along a flat route beside the water. The first stop is the Alter Hafen, the old harbour basin that has served as the maritime heart of the city since the Middle Ages. Fishing boats unload their catches, which are promptly smoked and sold in sandwiches at floating stalls. A replica of a cog, the rounded trading ships that helped make the Hanseatic League prosperous, rocks among the traditional sailboats. At the entrance to the basin, two brightly painted heads of moustachioed sailors, known as the “Swedish Heads,” recall a local peculiarity: Wismar belonged to Sweden for more than a century and a half, until the early 19th century.

A Square on a Grand Hanseatic Scale

A few streets uphill, the market square stretches across 10,000 m², making it one of the largest in northern Germany. At its centre stands the Wasserkunst, an elegant Renaissance pavilion completed in 1602 that once supplied the city with drinking water. Today, its arcades serve as a popular meeting place for locals. All around it, the façades tell six centuries of architectural history, from the Gothic house known as the “Alter Schwede” to pastel-coloured classical residences. The patios invite visitors to pause in the sunshine with a coffee or a slice of cake.

The Great Gothic Churches

Wismar’s churches convey the scale of its former power. St. Nicholas, built for sailors and fishermen, boasts one of the tallest naves in Germany, with vaults that seem to defy gravity. St. George, devastated by the 1945 bombings, was painstakingly restored section by section over several decades. Visitors can now climb to its viewing platform for sweeping views of the red rooftops of the old town. Of St. Mary’s, only the 80-metre-high tower remains, serving as a navigational landmark for sailors. An exhibition inside explains the secrets of Gothic brick construction. The free World Heritage House completes the picture with an account of the city’s UNESCO listing.

Fürstenhof, an Italian-Style Palace on the Baltic

Between St. George’s Church and the site of the former cathedral stands Fürstenhof, the former residence of the dukes of Mecklenburg. Its Renaissance façade is covered with terracotta friezes depicting biblical scenes and processions from antiquity. The Italian influence, exceptionally rare this far north, reflects the ambitions of the court in the 16th century. The building now houses a courthouse, but visitors can still admire its reliefs from the street.

Narrow Lanes, Shops and Film Memories

Between these monumental buildings, a maze of narrow lanes offers its own pleasures: artisan courtyards, bookshops and small shops along the canals. The little bridge known as Schweinsbrücke, decorated with bronze pigs that passersby rub for good luck, leads to the local history museum, housed in a handsome Renaissance residence. Film buffs will enjoy recognizing the street corners featured in the original Nosferatu.

Evening Light on the Brickwork

On the return journey, the waterfront path leads gently back towards the ship. Shipyard cranes stand out in the distance, the smokehouses are still fragrant, and the brick church towers turn crimson in the fading sunlight. Murnau was searching for an unsettling atmosphere; today’s visitor takes away the opposite impression: the warmth of a city that has weathered plague, wars and empires without ever turning its back on the sea.

Frequently Asked Questions

In the industrial port area, about fifteen minutes' walk from the centre on a flat route along the water. It is not the prettiest start to a call, but the walk is easy and leads straight to the old basin.
The old basin, the maritime heart of the town since the Middle Ages. Fishing boats land their catch here, smoked at once and sold in sandwiches at the floating stalls, and a replica cog, the round-bellied ship that made the Hanse's fortune, rocks among the traditional sailing boats.
Two brightly painted heads of moustachioed sailors at the entrance to the basin. They recall a local peculiarity: Wismar belonged to Sweden for more than a century and a half, until the early 19th century.
A square of 10,000 square metres, among the largest in northern Germany, with the Wasserkunst at its centre, an elegant Renaissance pavilion completed in 1602 that once supplied the town with drinking water. All around, the façades recount six centuries of architecture.
St. Nicholas, built for sailors and fishermen, whose nave is among the highest in Germany. St. George, devastated in 1945 and raised section by section over decades, offers a platform from which to take in the red roofs of the old centre.
Its tower alone, 80 metres tall, which serves as a seamark for navigators. An exhibition inside explains the secrets of brick gothic construction: more interesting than it sounds, and it illuminates the rest of the walk.
The former residence of the dukes of Mecklenburg, whose Renaissance façade is covered in terracotta friezes parading biblical scenes and ancient processions. The Italian influence, exceedingly rare this far north, testifies to the court's ambitions in the 16th century.
No, the building now houses the court. Nothing stops you admiring the reliefs at length from the street, however, and that is in fact where they are best seen.
Yes. In 1922 the film-maker Friedrich Murnau was looking for a setting for his vampire and chose Wismar, its gothic lanes and its old basin. Film enthusiasts still enjoy recognizing street corners from the original.
The tangle of lanes holds craftsmen's courtyards, bookshops and canal-side stalls, and the little Schweinsbrücke, decorated with bronze pigs that passers-by stroke for luck, leads to the local history museum. Currency: the euro.