The Colossus Of Prora: Sandy Beach Vacation Or History Lesson?

About 300 km north of Berlin on the island of Rügen lies Prora.

Gazing out at the Baltic sea and lazily lying on the sandy beach makes it a great place for a weekend away.

Prora's beaches have been compared to the beauty of the Caribbean; it's serene, calm, and a well deserved summer break from the busy and noisy surroundings of Berlin.

That is, until you turn around and see the enormous structure for which Prora is so infamous.

The partially abandoned concrete building stretches along the beach for 4.5 kilometers and consists of eight blocks (five remaining), each six stories high.

Today, the majority of what locals call "the Colossus" is merely a skeleton of its original purpose; the windows are devoid of glass, and the facade is crumbling. From outside, the small rooms, with their walls covered in graffiti, are discernible and alluring to urban explorers. The building is eerie and disturbingly unavoidable.

It is in every photo, every memory, and every experience.

The building was built as a seaside resort to house 20,000 vacationing citizens of the Third Reich so that they could enjoy affordable holidays along with a steady stream of Nazi propaganda.

Construction of the building started in 1936 by the KdF (Kraft Durch Freude, Strength Through Joy) wing of the Nazi Party. Each room was built to look exactly the same, with standard furniture and all windows facing the ocean. The resort was supposed to operate like a city, with restaurants, kindergartens, hospitals- even a wave pool and solarium.

Hitler originally intended for there for be five such resorts around the Baltic region, however Prora was the only resort started, built with the hands of war captives and forced laborers. With the outbreak of World War Two, construction was halted.

Instead, it was used as a refugee camp, a hospital, and a training school for servicewomen. When the war ended, the buildings were used to station Soviet troops before falling under the control of the East German army until 1990.

Now, the building stands as an awkward and ever-present reminder of the past, much like Berlin's Tempelhof and Olympia Stadium, and the Nazi Party rally grounds in Nuremberg.

Similarly, in Prora such a large building cannot be ignored and is once again being re-used and re-appropriated. The New York Times reports that Blocks 1 and 3 will soon be converted into 3,000 apartments for vacationers once financing comes through.

A youth hostel was opened on July 1st of this year in the northern end of the structure, and a sign in the lobby boasts it is "the longest in the world." Visitors can also camp in front of the hostel on the lawn with a view of the building's open-air art exhibit, which is plastered to the outside of the building. The hostel works in association with the Prora-Zentrum, also housed within the complex, which was established in 2001. The Prora-Zentrum documents and educates those visiting the region about the structure's difficult past, and offers a variety of educational tours around the area.

But the recent renovation work on the site is not without controversy. A recent Spiegel article states that critics believe that Prora is "the last place where people should be spending their holidays," and that far-right bloggers have been "celebrating the opening of the hostel as a continuation of the Nazis' strategy of providing cheap vacations."

Indeed, upon visiting Prora, the confusion surrounding the building is alarmingly evident. Can one vacation responsibly in a spot plagued by such a history? This problem is not unfamiliar to those living in Germany, and only time will tell. But so far, the attempts to re-appropriate "the Colossus" as an educational tool, accessible to everyone of all ages and backgrounds, seems to be a positive one.