Driving In Germany

I have to start this blog by admitting that when I did no one is going to inscribe the words "She was a great driver" on my tombstone. I never learned to parallel park. I sweat bullets while making unprotected left hand turns. Most of all I can not stand driving in unfamilar territory.

Now every morning I take a deep breath, say a little prayer, put the key in the ignition and head out onto the streets of Germany. Back "home" my Honda Odessy was just a blip on the radar among the pick up truck and huge SUVs that compromise the traffic that I drove in on a daily basis. Here my van screams American as I navigate among the Mini Coopers and Smart Cars. There is no hope of parallel parking even if I knew how. I am limited to the stores I can patronize based on the parking situation. I am ever so grateful that our hotel has a parking garage even though the Van's but hangs out of the space about six inches. The parking in the garage is plentiful especially now that they are no longer parking Yetis from the conference they hosted in the garage every night.

Far more problematic from the parking is the actual driving. Germany has very interestind driving laws. For example, on a "non priority" road you always have to yield to cars on the right. At every intersection you have to stop and make sure no one is coming down the road on your right. Germany is also full of round a bouts that make me break out in a cold sweat every time I drive on one.

It is interesting to see the change that comes over these laid back, ever friendly people once they get behind the wheel of a car. They become agressive, speed loving maniacs yet the always stop for pedestrians in the crosswalks. I am not sure if I will ever get used to driving here but I have hope.

Anyway... I am off for lunch on post so my kids can have some American food and the Van can enjoy the company of other American Beasts in the parking lot. Until next time Gute Fahrt!

Hotelfrau

Day 20 of living in a hotel. At first you might think it would be nice, living in a hotel. There is no housework involved. Everyday someone comes and replaces your dirty wet towels with fresh clean ones. Someone makes my bed everyday. I can tell you now it gets old pretty quick. My husband finally called the front desk and the hospitality people stopped knocking on our door at the crack of dawn to replenish the mini bar. Are there people who really need a 3oz bottle of vodka at 6:00 in the morning? Not being a drinking person I can't really understand this.

Housekeeping never comes at the same time every day and I live in fear of someday coming out of the shower to find a stranger making my bed while my children are watching disturbing BBC public television.

check the "security lock" like a person with OCD every time I go to the bathroom.I look fondly back at the days where I ate breakfast in my pajamas while the kids watched playhouse disney. Now we have to dress and go downstairs to eat. I am tired of pickled herring and salami as breakfast foods. Not that I would eat any of that. I head for the white toast and jelly and pray that I will make it through the next hour without seeing my breakfast in reverse. Then I head back to the room and try to find all the things the housekeeping staff cleaned for me. While it makes perfect sense that I would want my neat stack of Euros to be tossed in the bag with the diaped wipes part of me wishes they would have been left on the desk. I am also growing tired of avoiding my 5 year olds questions about the absract art on the hotel walls. Two weeks from today we will finally be in our house.