A word on driving

Americans drive.  It’s what we do.  So when I decided to take a European driving vacation, the Europeans were in awe, the Americans, not so much.  I’ve clocked over 3500 kilometers so far since June 11; that’s about 2175 miles for the metric-impaired, approximately the distance between Champaign, Illinois and Seattle, Washington, not a small distance for either side of the Atlantic.  But driving on European roads, even the big highways and toll roads, is not quite the same as driving in the U.S.  In the U.S., you can space out a bit, set ‘er on cruise, jam to your favorite tunes, and just go.  In Europe, you must always be on guard, follow strict driving rules, pay exorbitant fees for toll roads, follow local and regional customs, and read signs that are not always familiar. It's exhausting.

This one always made me wonder--"car may catch on fire?" or "traffic is so bad you might spontaneously combust?"  Actually, it's a prohibition to carry flammable liquids.  Who knew?

When crossing the border from France to Spain on the way to Barcelona, the signs are in Catalan; my tiny bit of Spanish was not terribly helpful.  The speed limit went down from 130 kph to 120, but suddenly everyone was driving 150.  Drivers in the city limits of Barcelona hit the accelerator when the crosswalk light changes to red, not when the traffic light changes to green.  German drivers on the autobahn have strict rules about passing, so you’d better not get into the passing lane unless you’re prepared to step on it.  The very furthest left lane is reserved for high-performance vehicles which are usually cruising at about 200 kph.

This toll, at 4 euros 40, was one of the cheapest

In France, the péage is the tollway, and it is expensive.  Most often, you stop and get a ticket, then drive for a few hundred kilometers and pay at a second toll station.  These tollbooths are automatic, often with no personnel present.  They do not accept U.S. credit cards, and some lanes only accept cards.  My task when approaching a tollbooth was to find the proper lane, then to make sure I had cash ready to feed the monster.  The tolls were as low as 2 euros, and as high as 35 euros.  I spent around 150 euros for my trip to the Pyrenees, Spain, and Poitiers.  The payoff is frequent rest areas, many with gas stations, restaurants, showers, restrooms, picnic area, and sometimes a little shopping area.

Another nice thing about French motorways is the signage boasting the local sites of import.  Castles in the Loire Valley, ancient walled cities (saw quite a few of these from Perpignan to Poitiers, some of the most beautiful places in France), famous wine regions, etc.  Here you see the castle of Maintenon, a lovely chateau not far from Paris.

Now that I’m back from Frankfurt, Germany (another blog post soon to follow), we’re doing some more laundry and packing up for a family trip to Brittany, a town called Locmariaquer.  And this time, I’m only too relieved to let someone else take the wheel…