We never really discussed a specific time to wake up or leave, just vaguely aimed for around nine or ten in the morning. After finally getting up and quickly packing, we saw it was already nearing 11 AM when we reluctantly headed for the parking garage.
On the walk from home to the garage, we passed the train station. The sights and sounds activated familiar pathways in my brain, as if in the next second I would veer off my path and head towards the platform. But then I remembered: with a car, we mostly wouldn’t need to take the Deutsche Bahn anymore. A fleeting sense of nostalgia washed over me, but it quickly evaporated when I recalled the frustrations caused by Deutsche Bahn delays.
She drove the entire way there. I asked if she wanted me to take over at some point, but she seemed energetic and said she was fine, so she handled the whole drive.
We took the A5 south, then near Stuttgart, switched to the A8 heading directly towards Munich.
I remember how the weather shifted from overcast to sunny during the drive. It started with dense clouds and a light drizzle, but as we headed south, the clouds broke apart, revealing the sun. Sitting in the passenger seat, I watched the changing scenery fly by. The transition from narrow stretches to wide-open sections was particularly impressive. The road opened up into four wide lanes in our direction, allowing speeds over 130 km/h even in the rightmost lane. Green forests lined both sides, with hazy hills in the distance, and the clouds above were remarkably full-bodied–sometimes light and wispy, other times dense and heavy, the weather shifting as erratically as the needle on the speedometer.
We hadn’t prepared any music beforehand, only starting to choose songs once we were on the highway. We picked them in an “impressionistic” manner–tracks that left a strong impression came first, followed by those with lighter ones. The strongest impression, undoubtedly, belonged to playlists titled something like “Super High Quality - Essential Car Anthems”. I recall seeing similar CDs in the cars of many older folks (“uncles and aunts”), albums with no set name but always some combination of these descriptive adjectives. The artist was invariably listed as “Various Artists” or some other vague term. The flavor was strong, almost overwhelming, yet genuinely authentic.
Elements like “Neimenggu” (Inner Mongolia), “Caoyuan” (Grassland), and “Xizang” (Tibet) seemed especially popular with the older generation, pushing “tangled love stories” aside. It was either the deep voice of a middle-aged man or the soprano of a “national treasure” female artist; all sorts of disparate styles converged on a single CD. I heard too much of it as a kid and grew tired of it, but driving my own car now, it felt surprisingly energizing. Could this be the wisdom of the elders they talk about? “Ei hei~ hei ei~“–a sudden playful voice emerged from a mountain folk song, pulling me back, wave after wave, to childhood memories in China. It seems this wasn’t such a bad way to reconnect with that feeling of home after all.
Along the highway, rest stops appeared at regular intervals. Their placement seemed remarkably deliberate. Just as your bladder started sending signals, you’d find a place for relief within another ten minutes or so of driving. I boldly hypothesize that the spacing of these stops might be calculated based on the average adult bladder capacity and tolerance time–hence their exquisite timing, which had us clicking our tongues in admiration from our seats.
The rest stops had a strong commercial atmosphere; stopping almost forced you to spend money. Besides the pricey fuel, this was evident in how toilets and food were handled. Using the restroom cost one Euro, but inserting the coin dispensed a one Euro voucher usable for purchases in the adjacent shop. The shop prices felt about 1.5 times higher than usual, so with the voucher, the final cost wasn’t too bad. However, you could only use one voucher per item, meaning any extra vouchers had to be saved for the next time. Since using the toilet was often necessary, getting a voucher was unavoidable. To feel like you were getting “some value”, you felt compelled to use the voucher, which often meant buying another coffee. Then, after drinking it in the car, you’d wait for the caffeine to work its magic, setting up the cycle of needing the toilet and spending money at the next rest stop. These people are sharp, and rather shrewd.
After about five hours of driving, we finally reached Munich. She was exhausted and quickly fell asleep. I didn’t disturb her, my thoughts drifting to EU regulations on long-haul driving safety–the rule requiring a 45-minute break after every 4.5 hours of driving. It makes sense, as driving is undeniably tiring, but it contrasts with practices back in China. I recall that buses in China rarely seemed to stop for driver breaks. It reminded me of Turkish drivers too, often in white shirts, who might stop mid-route to pick up more passengers, their breaks consisting of just a quick coffee or tea. They handled those huge steering wheels like wizards, weaving through winding mountain roads with incredible ease, almost nonchalantly. But ultimately, all that rushing was about earning more money and getting more rest time later, invisibly cultivating and refining various driving skills in the process. It’s admirable, yet undeniably tough work.
Having experienced the narrow A5, I opted for the A9 to A3 route for the return trip–heading north first, then west. This proved to be a better choice; the roads were wider, and the roadside facilities were more comprehensive.
Learning from our previous long drive, we knew to prepare a playlist beforehand to avoid scrambling for music. The quest for our favorite songs inadvertently turned into a late-night music appreciation session, resulting in a very long list. We barely added any duplicates, except, curiously, for “‘Tao Ma Gan’”, which appeared twice. Perhaps the allure of grasslands and stallions led us independently to the same choice. Well played!
Compared to her steady approach, my driving style was a bit more spirited. The actual speed limit was dictated by whichever was lowest: the posted signs, the car’s ability, or my own comfort level. Once comfortable, I found a certain pleasure in overtaking–always prioritizing safety, of course.
This time, the weather pattern was reversed: it went from overcast to sunny. The sun gradually peeked through the clouds, its rays warming my arms and body. Thanks to the wide roads and abundant greenery, the views were excellent. Watching small towns perched on hills appear and then recede, I imagined their entirely different ways of life, ones not centered around major urban hubs.
After driving for over two hours, we found a “bladder break” rest stop. We parked, used the facilities, but skipped buying food, instead retrieving the simple fish burgers she had made. The sun was veiled by mist, the weather turned grey, and a wind picked up. We sat in the car listening to a finance podcast, munching on our burgers and discussing the content, sipping coffee when thirsty, and carefully trying not to drop crumbs in the clean car. Perhaps because I wasn’t fully accustomed to driving yet, my eyes felt strained. So, I relinquished the driver’s seat to her for the remainder of the journey.
With practice, her driving had improved noticeably. She managed the speed well and overtook with more confidence. This led us to another realization: when something happens, it’s better to state it calmly rather than exclaiming. Shouting can startle the driver, leading to erratic maneuvers, poor driving, and frayed nerves. Suppressing the urge to yell and maintaining composure benefits everyone.
The rest of the trip was uneventful. We entered the city and pulled into the parking garage. I didn’t feel as tired as before and was getting more accustomed to driving and being driven. It seems these trips might become more frequent from now on.
