'Fairytale Road' lives up to its name
HAMBURG, Germany -- No one has written a song about the drive from Hamburg to Holland. There's no "Route 66" or "Highway 61" about E22.
I'm pulling over to say don't get blue on E22.
During a recent visit to Hamburg, my traveling companion Lynn and I rented a car and checked out the countryside on the five-hour trip to Amsterdam.
This process actually began in Chicago.
My car rental company told me I had to obtain an International Driving Permit, which required forking over $28 at an AAA Chicago office. That's $15 for the license and $13 for my mug shot. I asked the customer service rep if I could purchase a map of northern Germany. She refused to sell me a map unless I joined AAA. Again, in a slower cadence I said I was more than happy to just buy the map. She still refused, and in fact, I sensed a bit of delight in her keeping the candy away from the kid.
No one ever asked to see my International Driving Permit, the portfolio-size permit gave me the cache of some kind of James Bond character (not even the rental company in Germany). I still show it to
tollbooth employees when I pass from Illinois into Indiana.
They do not laugh.
Life got better when I was upgraded to a Toyota Prius hybrid in downtown Hamburg. This was the first time I had driven an eco car. Once I figured out where to insert the key, the ride in the world's first mass-produced hybrid car was indeed smooth and quiet. I learned how the electric motor becomes a generator during deceleration and braking. Through this process regenerated energy is used to recharge the battery. Mastering the breaking was a little tough and it caused some minor concern from Lynn when I stopped in front of our hotel on a narrow street in Amsterdam and the car continued to lurch ahead.
Most important was the fuel efficiency we realized. Because of its electric motor and gasoline engine, we could travel up to 650 miles on a tank of gas. I felt as green as Willie Nelson. And I was in Amsterdam.
We loaded up on music we found at Hanseplatte, a cool independent record store in the St. Pauli section of Hamburg. The best of the lot was the new "Blunders and Mistakes" CD from the Robocop Kraus, a post-punk band from Nuremberg, Germany. In songs such as "Hynea," the band shows it understands the value of a good pop hook. Previous Robocop Kraus originals include "Concerned, Your Secular Friends," which tells of how the band's bassist left the group to find Jesus during a trip to Amsterdam. That didn't happen to us.
We made one stop on the drive to the Netherlands.
We found Bremen, a small town that's part of the state of Bremen (as Hamburg is part of the state of Hamburg). We pulled over to eat at a quaint diner in a downtown neighborhood that featured seven kinds of schnitzel served on plates the size of UFOs. I had a crispy schnitzel laced with cream and paprika sauce and Lynn had a schnitzel filled with sweet tomato sauce and pickles. Potatoes were served on the side and mine came in small wedges. Hers were fried with bits of bacon.
We stopped on a Saturday afternoon and the place was packed with locals watching Bremen's soccer team on television. Unlike many American sports bars, these customers were quiet and transfixed by the action on the screen.
Only upon my return did I learn we were driving near "the Fairy-Tale Road."
Like a magic carpet, the road rolls out from the Main River (the border between northern and southern Germany) through Sababurg (the alleged location of Sleeping Beauty's castle) near northern Bremen. Much of the forest-lined trail served as mystical illusions for the writings of the Brothers Grimm. I kept my eyes peeled for road signs that warned "Do Not Pick Up Hitchhiking Rapunzels."
There seemed to be some sort of speed limit on E22 but we couldn't understand the German signage. We were not on the autobahn. I rambled around 120 kilometers on the way to Holland and raced at 180-200 kilometers on the way back to Germany to catch our flight. One U.S. mile equals 1.61 kilometers. You do the math. At least that's what I told the German police officer on the way back. (Just kidding.) It was refreshing to see a highway void of SUVs but there were more RVs and trailers than we anticipated.
The cost of the car rental for three days was 107.56 euros, which in early October translated to $159.18. We went this route because it was cheaper than flying to Amsterdam and we had more autonomy than if we had taken a train. And most important, this was the only way we could have chowed down on gutbusting schnitzel in Bremen.
Here's a good one from correspondent Edoardo Flores in Turin, Italy who got a wakeup call from our recent column on "Do Not Disturb" hotel signs. Flores writes: "I am one of a handful of 'serious' collectors of Do Not Disturb signs who over the past 12 years has accumulated over 4,500 signs from all over the world. I have even created a Web site to help promote this hobby; www.freewebs.com/dndcollector/.
"Quite apart from the function for which they are designed, many signs provide an insight into different customs and cultures, besides the creativity of their anonymous authors. They would certainly deserve a more keen in-depth study on their evolution over the years. Unfortunately hotels are not so keen with collectors whom they probably perceive as a nuisance, while it would appear that they don't mind collaborating with the press on such issues. Anyway, congratulations for your interesting article. ..."
Thanks, Edoardo. I was just admiring my German Do Not Disturb sign from the Hamburg Marriott.