Day 4: The Autobahn

It happened in Stuttgart, about halfway through the trip. I was exiting the parking garage under the Stuttgart art museum, onto a narrow two-way side street, going left. On the way out I saw a forklift coming at me, in the right-hand lane of the street, where I was trying to turn onto. They were doing some minor repair work to the side of the building.

Instead of stopping, I instinctually pulled hard left, to avoid the forklift. The rear fender of my van scraped against a raised barrier by the exit in the process (just what purpose that raised barrier serves is unclear to me, but it was there). The result was a clear scrape-dent in the rear left fender: the car was still fully drivable, but it’s not something I could hope the car rental people wouldn’t notice. It was bound to happen at some point, but it still bugs me – careless of me not to stop before turning.

Let’s back up: the car I rented was a Renault Transit, outfitted for personnel transport – I take it the usual use for this is as a mini utility/cargo van. The purpose was to get plenty of room, large passenger windows for good views, and a relatively cost-effective price. The Transit checked all those boxes: technically, it had seating for nine (if you counted the middle-front seat); even with the three row seating, it had more than enough luggage space for six; it had large windows; it cost about $100/day. The smaller seven-person minivan would have cost $170/day. With this nine-seater, we could even pick up and drive Nonna and Nesta around with us, which we did on Day 2 (and again on Day 14). And we weren’t cramped on the four days that required us to drive with our luggage.

It, however, had one fatal flaw that I had not checked. The size that I prized so much made this van “non-standard” in terms of insurance – meaning, my credit card, which usually covers car rentals for accidents, did not end up covering this. I’ve been renting cars in Europe for so many years that I stopped checking the details – been there, done that – and it will cost me this time. Oh, I try to take the long view: the smaller mini-van that I could have rented instead would have run $1,000 more in charges anyway; purchasing the rental insurance would have been an extra $500, and come with a high deductible. In retrospect, I’m lucky I wasn’t in a serious accident, because it turns out I was pushing 90 on the Autobahn without any insurance. Yikes.

So I’m going to place a retraction here: I’ve recommended all along that driving Euro roads is no big deal, go ahead and try it on your next vacation. And mostly it wasn’t: German highways are wonderfully constructed, smooth and in good repair. I can point out, for example, that our kids got car sick only twice on the trip: once  while winding up through the twisty Black Forest roads (to be expected – Holman had been playing on his Kindle the whole drive). The second time? Paine, on the bumpy I-20 ride back from ATL.

But I speak the language, and am pretty familiar with the similar driving terms in French & Italian. This is no small thing, I now realize – I can concentrate on driving, without having to work out what the signs are saying, too. I really don’t know if I’d be able to say the same if I was in Beijing or Wroclaw. It’s not a small thing, and I realize now that unfamiliarity with road signs and terms amounts to a constant distraction – bad for driving. And if you do rent – check the fine print on your credit card. Go ahead and call the benefits team and specifically ask what vehicle is or isn’t covered.

Anyway, this is Day 4 -- transit day. Our schedule was for us to leave the Steigenberger and head further into Germany. But before that, we drove into Amriswil, CH, for a lovely lunch hosted by Nonna and Nesta. By now I was pretty well familiar with the drive Konstanz-Amriswil, and didn’t need the assistance of the car navigator. However, I relied on it pretty much throughout the trip, once I figured out how to work it properly. E.g. – right off the bat, getting from Zurich to Konstanz was confusing, even with my pre-printed map routes (perhaps because of these – this is also known as a “Fox Butterfield”). I found the GPS to be very reliable, although on one occasion it took us on a route that made little sense; on other occasions, it had trouble with the frequent road closings that happen in the Black Forest. But otherwise…I asked Annemarie how I ever got around Europe without a GPS. She reminded me that we often got lost; and yes, there’s a town between Florence and Siena, in particular (Poggibonsi) that caught me in a Groundhog Day style navigational loop two or three times back in 1999.

Once out of Amriswil, it was on to Deutschland, and our main stopping point in the Black Forest. The drive wasn’t particularly difficult. German highways have no billboards, so you can’t play distracting billboard games with your kids. We let ‘em play on their Kindles (see above) and admired the German countryside – gentle rolling terrain with farms nearly everywhere; the Germans can’t afford to waste any space. If it’s specifically not forest, it’s being put to use. On that score, I recounted to the boys the story of Armenius and the battle of the Teutoburg Forest. No wonder they still keep room in this jam-packed country for woodlands.

And, there’s a day. We landed in Mitteltal late afternoon, took a brief stroll along the town’s main street, and had our afternoon wine. We dined at the hotel restaurant (Hotel Lamm) more traditional German fare (I had a mild venison with a cherry sauce). The food wasn’t special, but good enough for us to try it again later in the week, which was possibly a mistake.

They also served a delicious white asparagus soup. Well, who didn’t? We were close to the Asparagus Capital of Germany, and it was in season. That meant that the country was awash in this vegetable; nearly every restaurant featured it on the menu, and roadside stands were selling it every few kilometers. White asparagus is larger, milder, and less fibrous than its green cousin, which makes it very versatile, as a base or even feature, say, with hollandaise. I was pleased to be there at peak season. At first. After 10 days of an endless parade of white asparagus, one starts to hope for a carrot or two.