It’s not just the people that are different in Germany, but most of what happens around you has a sort of confusing mystery about it. Without delving too much into Germans’ weird and complex obsession with being purposefully difficult, let me rather offer you an insight to one of their other obsessions, driving.
Firstly, if you’re not in the buzz of Germany’s cities, then obviously, you’re outside of it. And Deutschland’s extra-urban spaces are clearly defined by an abundance of duplicated beauty and woeful lack of personality. These hamlets consist of scattered clusters of historical homes (and at least one bakery!), all of which are connected by a seemingly endless array of little roads.
In the mountain regions these roads are sometimes so narrow that you have to hold your breath when you encounter oncoming traffic. Obviously these conditions worsen during the winter months when the already perilous paths are lined by two-metre high snow walls. The road surface then poses degrees of danger ranging from inevitable mild collisions to death-by-tumble on the higher climbs.
Now that you have an idea of the surfaces that Germans traverse on their daily trundle, imagine travelling fast, in a car without ABS, and a woman behind the wheel! Statistics show that females drive more in Germany than, I suppose, men. And that’s partly because men know when it is a safer to play russian roulette than to pull your car out of the driveway. Those inhospitable roads of death do not faze the ladies, though.
Speaking from personal mitfahrt experience of course, German vehicles don’t travel on the legal side of the road, oh no! The middle is the place to be and drivers give way only to oncoming traffic at the very last moment, usually in the apex of a bend.
ABS, when installed in your vehicle, is used more frequently than the radio and that is quite understandable because German drivers are meticulous about maintaining a constant average speed. By the time we finally reached our destination (thank God!), I was totally drenched, not in melted snow, but rather a panic-induced cold sweat.
So, after nearly tearing the interior door handle from its mountings, ruining the footwell carpet by relentlessly “braking” into the bends of death, and having been in the company of a lousy talker ever since she engaged 2nd gear, I have to make a solemn confession.
I am resigned to the fact that when it comes to driving in these adverse frozen conditions, and only then, my wife is a better driver than I.
Freelance photographer, aspiring motoring scribe and certified car nut Bijon de Kock is currently based in Germany, but hopes to return to Cape Town soon to rekindle is love for sunny skies and long drives in (preferably) performance-oriented automobiles.
