On Driving

I love to drive. Well, not in DC. Driving in DC makes me an angry, aggressive Crazy Lady. But growing up in Oklahoma, there was nothing like hitting the road, windows down, country music blaring, no traffic, and wide open plains all 'round. I love the combination of perceived freedom, speed, and being (sort of) outside. (Interested in the history of driving for pleasure? Read this fascinating article).

Germany is a driver's dream. We debated whether or not to use trains or rent a car while in Germany in 2012. I'm so glad we chose the car. We were able to go to so many out of the way places at our own pace. One of my favorite things to do was just explore...no destination, no idea where I was really going, no sense of direction. I'd get in the car and start driving. The area where we were staying (and where we'll live) is in the district of Kaiserslautern in the Rhineland-Palatinate, one of sixteen German states. It is a countryside of rolling hills, villages dating back to who-knows-when, and fields of rapeseed. 

I had no idea what rapeseed was until two years ago. Rapeseed is a source of vegetable oil and when it blossoms, it produces a bright, yellow flower. In the spring, rapeseed fields are everywhere in Germany, creating a brilliant patchwork quilt of color. 

The best thing about driving in the German countryside is the size of the roads. They. Are. Tiny. I mean, barely large enough for one car to drive on, much less two. Add to that the incredibly winding nature of the roads, the over-hill-and-dale undulation, and the sporadic nature of the villages (which sit right on the road), and you've got yourself an exhilarating ride. Mine was often the only car on the road, and as I would top a hill, I would see miles of deserted, narrow roads ahead of me. Ahhh. I would feel such a sense of Discovery as I rounded a corner and found myself in a small village containing a few farmhouses, perhaps a cobbled street, maybe a church. How long had it been there? What was it like to live there a thousand years ago? Had Charlemagne ever walked there? (Be forewarned: I like Charlemagne. He will be mentioned again on this blog).

Contrast Idyllic Meandering with the Autobahn. People don't so much meander as they Barrel Down. Imagine a jet-lagged couple fresh off their flight into Frankfurt. They pick up their Ford Focus (as they are clearly living The Big Life) from the rental agency and load their luggage. Destination programmed into their GPS, they pull out of the airport onto the autobahn and naively assume that they have time to accelerate from 30 mph to 60 mph. Then imagine irritated Germans glaring and swerving past, a backseat driver (who shall remain anonymous) loudly telling her husband to speed up (it's called yelling), said harried husband asking where he should go as the GPS malfunctions, and, eventually, the abrupt swerve into a non-parking spot in an unknown neighborhood as they attempt to Figure It Out. 

Or, picture me driving something like this down the A6. We disparagingly referred to it as "The Twig." Because we envisioned it snapping in half quite easily. I mean, it was such a sturdy thing that when you wanted to close the car door, you had to walk the door to the frame and push it shut. It was un-slammable. That happens when the door weighs as much as a piece of cardboard. I remember trying to pass on the autobahn in The Twig. I accelerated, moved to the passing lane, and waited for the car to...well...accelerate. I pushed on the pedal harder and realized that it was, indeed, already completely floored. The Twig was just chugging along at a death-inviting speed as the Audi's, BMW's, and Mercedes' (which were the ONLY other cars on the highway) rapidly approached in my rearview mirror. I quickly learned that The Twig and I should stay out of the left lane. 

I look forward to the time when I pick up friends and family in Frankfurt and, with ease and finesse, drive them to our humble abode. Until that time, have fun imagining me doing the opposite.