“As you journey through life take a minute every now and then to give a thought for the other fellow. He could be plotting something.” Hagar the Horrible
I love a good autobahn. There, I said it. Exposed myself for the non-green, environment-destroying villain that I am. But I do.
My first encounter with the German road system was terrifying. Not only was a I fairly new to driving, but the first time I sat in the car, I discovered the steering wheel was on the wrong side… and worse, people were driving on the wrong side. The wrong side if you come from Australia, that is.
It took time. Time to adjust. Time to remember to get into the drivers seat on the left, time to look up to the right to find the rear vision mirror. But most of all, it took time to lose the all blood draining terror that came from having to merge into traffic travelling at about 140km per hour… Holy crap! One false move and I would be little less than road kill.
There is also the small matter of Stau (traffic jams). These can really mess up your day. Get stuck in a Stau on the way home from having your bikini waxed and there is a good chance it will have all grown back before you get home.
One particular occasion, on the way to Frankfurt Airport, we were doing good time, heading out to places yonder. About 5km before the terminal, the traffic just stopped. Nothing, nada, zip. Nowhere to go. And my bladder was full. That uncomfortable full that makes you sort of cross and uncross your legs. It makes you wriggle about a bit, but not too much. It makes you try to think of something else, but that doesn’t help. Finally, I could hold no more. My German in-laws were sitting in the front of the car. Why else could I do? We had been sitting in the car for 3 hours. I could see the lights of the airport, where toilets flowed in abundance. There was no other solution.
My father-in-law driving… we opened the front driver’s door, and the back passenger door… and I peeded, right there and then, right on the Autobahn, right beside my father-in-law, with all those car headlights behind us, illuminating my big, white bum.
Ever the gentleman, my father-in-law politely turned his head, and hummed some Bavarian folk song… Mr Dear Husband stared into space, wishing with all his might that he was someplace else. I tried to imagine that all the drivers behind us were actually looking at something else…anything else.
I wonder why you never hear about these things happening to members of the royal family. Or Madonna.