Friday, 17 October 2003

Southern Germany: Every red-blooded American male can tell you the fastest he's ever driven, down to the very last mile per hour. He can tell you where he was driving at the time, the make and model of car, what the road conditions were like, and how the car handled. If pressed, he'll tell you that he would have gone even faster, but (a) the spedometer didn't go any higher, (b) there was traffic, a curve, or a cop (some of the best stories involve a cop) or (c) he didn't think the car could take any more.

Every American male also dreams about the Autobahn, Germany's premium highway system. Miles and miles of German-engineered roadwork, with three lanes going all the way to the horizon, and not a speed limit sign in sight. (In reality the Autobahn has road construction just like any other highway, drops down to two lanes occasionally, and is even known to have speed limits in some areas—but let's not spoil the fantasy, shall we?) We dream about high-octane Mercedes and BMWs roaring down the highway at Warp Ten, flashing their lights as they pass each other at speeds that only NASCAR drivers achieve in the United States.

My Autobahn experience was only slightly marred by the fact that I was driving some sort of Ford Craptiva clown car instead of the Porsche that the rental car company was obviously meant to provide. (What sadist delivers roads like these and then supplies me with a four-door hatchback?) Nevertheless, my "personal best" driving speed is now up to 128 mph (or 205 kph, as they say over here); I'd have gone even faster, of course, but that was the maximum speed of the vehicle.

- Posted by Scott Forbes at 2:00 pm. comments.