Today’s post is brought to you by most of the letters in the alphabet, including one that I didn’t know we even had.
By the way, “DE” in the title is the 2-letter code for Germany. Today was a German driving extravaganza.
Our hosts – Bernard and Yolande – gave us some tips on what we could see today, and because it was going to be raining all day, it seemed like a good idea to go for a drive.
Except it wasn’t raining … we went off this morning to mostly blue skies. Stupid weather forecasters.
So our planned itinerary was to drive across the border to Durbach, and then drive the Schwarzwaldhochstraße through the Black Forest to Baden-Baden, then home.
Sounds simple, right?
Durbach is just up the road – 29km or about 44 minutes in a Citroën C4. That bit of the trip was uneventful. We got into Durbach, found some parking, and got out to go for a walk.
Have you ever had one of those dreams where you wake up in the morning and everything is the same as it was the night before, but all of the people have disappeared and you are the only one left?
OK, maybe that’s just me …
But if you could imagine that scenario for a moment, then you can imagine Durbach. Shops were closed, the free public toilets were locked (bugger!), there was nobody on the streets.
It was a bit weird. It was like a ghost town.
We did see a tractor go whizzing through the town, which made it feel even weirder.
We had an impromptu call from a couple of our FLP who were getting ready for bed and wanted to talk to Grammy and Grandpa, so that was nice.
It filled our emotional tanks.
OK to be honest, we probably saw about a half dozen people in the township, but it was very odd. We were also advised by our hosts to go up to the castle to see the panoramic view which we did, and it was pretty amazing.
And they had toilets, so that solved an immediate problem.
And there were more people up in the medieval castle than there were in Durbach. Crazy.
In Durbach along the main street they have vending machines, often bolted to buildings. Cigarette vending machines, not condom vending machines.
The cigarette vending machines come with a written warning that “cigarettes could lower your fertility.”
Just like condoms, but different. Different method, but a similar outcome.
We left Durbach for Mummelsee and before we’d gone far we realised that we had another immediate problem – we needed coffee. It was about 11.30 and this morning’s coffee was no longer working. It must have been faulty.
MBW checked the Intergoogle and found a little coffee shop in Oberkirch that got good reviews, so Joséphine got new instructions.
Coffees were good, the slice was great, and the cherry and caramel cake was wonderful.
Oberkirch – like many of these little European villages – is very perplexing to drive through. Many of the streets are very narrow and cobblestoned, to the point where you can’t be sure if you are driving on a street, someone’s driveway, or a pedestrian walkway.
Sometimes you are driving through an archway in a building, and feel like you are going to find yourself in somebody’s garage. But then you pop out the other side and continue your journey.
We left Oberkirch around 12.15 and true to form – a combination of unclear directions from Josephine and uncertainty on my part – we missed a turn, so Joséphine punished (or possibly rewarded) us by taking us on an alternative route.
A “scenic” route.
And when I say scenic, imagine a road that is barely wide enough for one vehicle or two goats, but is designed for two way traffic. It has blind corners and hairpin bends, and all the time you are climbing into the mountains, but surrounded by pine forest.
Oh, and it has a posted speed limit of 100km/h.
And then it turns to dirt.
Pretty. Pretty scary.
I always said I wanted to drive on the Autobahn here in Germany, but I was fairly certain this wasn’t it.
But Joséphine knows what she is doing, and we eventually found ourselves back on bitumen on a true two-lane road, and arriving in Mummelsee.
There is something about these Germans – they are a secretive lot.
In both France and Italy, all tourist signs and information was posted in the local language, plus English, and often German too. They want everyone to know what’s going on.
But here in Germany they seem to take a view that if you can’t speak or read German then you miss out.
Whole tourist information boards about Lake Mummelsee were written only in German, so we have no idea what they said. In fact the only sign in English was to say that the lake was melted glacier and “might be colder than you expect.”
Considering that we both had on several layers including our puffer jackets, we weren’t planning a swim, so the water temperature was unlikely to be a problem.
For us, anyway.
Not much to see in Mummelsee and it was starting to rain, so we jumped back into Claude and headed to Baden-Baden. We have been told that the casino is the most beautiful in the world.
Joséphine successfully navigated us to the Baden-Baden casino – right out the front – but there was no parking, so she directed us onwards … into a dead-end street.
And we were the only vehicle there, except for a maintenance truck.
So we pulled onto the grass, did a 3-point turn, and headed back out … to find that the maintenance guy from the truck was standing in our path with his hands on his hip.
Not good.
He took a look at our (French) numberplate and started with a pleasant “bonjour” before launching into rapid-fire French that sounded unfriendly.
Actually, it sounded very unfriendly.
Me: “Je ne parlez pas Francais”
Him: “English?”
Me: “Yep”
And he proceeded to berate me for driving on his grass, and then for driving in an area designated for pedestrian access only.
We blamed Joséphine and apologised profusely, and I think he realised that we were only stupid Australians who had no idea what they were doing, so he told us to “have a good day, watch for road signs, and don’t trust Joséphine.”
He didn’t actually say “don’t trust Joséphine,” but it was implied.
Have a good day. Like the day can get any worse.
We did a couple more laps of the city without (to the very best of our knowledge) breaking any further road or traffic rules, or upsetting anyone. One lap included a trip through a 2.4km tunnel and some wrong turns, and we finally found ourselves back in front of the casino and presented with an empty parking space.
Claude parked, and we went for a walk. The casino is very beautiful and the grounds looking very neat … except for those Citroën C4 tyre marks on the grass 😞
We took some photos, wandered into the city, and bought a sandwich thingy for lunch.
Lunch was accompanied by a soundtrack of thunder, so that was our cue to find Claude and head for home.
And it rained, and it rained.
I don’t know enough about the German Autobahns to know whether any motorway is an Autobahn, or whether the Autobahn is a specific motorway.
But we found ourselves on a motorway with Claude reporting the speed limit as a white circle with five diagonal lines – a sign for “all limits and restrictions have been lifted.”
I don’t know if that was an Autobarn, but my knuckles were white holding the wheel at 110km/h while other cars went past me in the fast lane doing easily 160-180km/h.
In the rain.
If it looks like a duck, and walks like a duck … then it was probably an Autobahn.
I felt like everyone was on their way to a maniac’s convention, and they were all running late.
Other than that (and traffic congestion), it was an uneventful trip home.
We voted against dinner tonight, but having cake at 11.30am and a chicken panini thing for lunch at 3.00pm will do that. I might have some chocolate later just to keep my strength up.
Tomorrow is a walking tour, then Friday we leave Strasbourg to go to our very last two nights in France, just outside Paris.
Then we hand Claude back with about 4,500km on him, and go to the airport to fly home.
It’s all coming to an end.
Ciao
#Europe2025