Day 10 - Poland and a "Different Germany"
Trip Start
Aug 31, 2008
1
11
14
Trip End
Sep 13, 2008
Schöneberg,
Germany
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Quite by accident someone left the door open, so in I went to have a shower. I had been given a small blue plastic tag which I was told at the reception was for getting a shower, and instructions were up on the wall. The instructions were certainly there, but even though I read them through - three times - there was no hot water forthcoming from the showers. So in slight disgust I had a shower in the van.
At the back of the block, they had a motorhome dirty tank emptying point, which to me seemed a really sensible idea. But when you looked at how close to the back wall it was situated, no way could even a Mercedes Smart car have driven into the tiny allocated space. Some planning thought would have been nice.
Anyway, enough griping, and this morning I turned up at Frankfurt an der Oder, alongside the border with Poland. What a nice small city, with some respectable looking churches, a very decorative riverside walk along the front of the concert house, and an impressive bridge crossing over into Poland. There was even a long shopping street still called Karl Marx Strasse, replete with bleak grey concrete busts of the man himself. I'm sure the major proponent of Communism would have been slightly niggled that a four-level shopping complex, the Lennepassagen, had been situated on his road. Communism and retail therapy on the same street - now there's an uneasy mix.
The redbrick church - I forget the name - had a most fetching exhibition on, about the actions of Germany in WW2. Called "The Plans Of A Different Germany" it went from 1925 right through to 1946, and some of the photos were unforgettable. At home (in the UK) we will have seen many photos and films of the war years. But most of the photos here have, I would imagine, never been out of Germany. I saw photos of starving emaciated children in the Warsaw Ghetto and the concentration camps, of people chopping up a dead horse to eat, of a soldier with his head completely ripped off, the raw flaps of meat and skin draped over his shoulders, and the rest of the body untouched still in a neat uniform. Like I say, all quite unforgettable.
Being so close to Poland I just had to call over even for half an hour. Open borders mean no patrol or customs guards, and it was like walking from one side of an unmanned bus station to another. The buildings on offer, in Slubice, were all neatly turned out, but still with that underlying plain concrete style that ties it to the socialists. I couldn't understand a word of Polish, but there were many bilingual signs with German, and a fair number with English and French as well. Half the people talked German, half Polish, so traffic over the bridge, especially on such a lovely warm sunny day, was obviously active.
Driving north from Frankfurt I called at a Norma general store in Lebus. Just after I bought what food I needed I noticed two green and white Zoll (customs) cars had pulled up beside the van. Had they rumbled me for something? Perhaps I had ignored some unwritten protocol? Of course not. They had all turned up to have their tea break at the café beside the store. Their cars even gave their website as www.zoll.de - now who would think the customs would advertise their internet site? What next - police forces in the UK having their website addresses on their cars? Probably it's only a matter of time.
I drove further north, then decided to go over into Poland for about half an hour, and go south back to Slubice (where I knew I could get back into Germany). This was really a reccie for me to see what driving in Poland would be like. Well, it wasn't much different than Germany, of course. Signs were different colours, words were unpronouncable (many place names near the border having a German equivalent), and surprisingly all vehicles had their headlights on permanently. This last thing is something I am used to as they do this in Norway and Sweden, but it's the first time in mainland Europe I have seen it.
I then started heading west, over the top of Berlin, but far enough out that it was all just forest. Wonderful scenery here, especially on a sunny day like today where the sunshine streams through the tall straight birches. Fabulous effect - but unfortunately nowhere to stop to take photos.
Have you ever wondered how they get those huge propellers up onto the wind turbines? Neither had I. But I got the chance to see it done. Many other vehicles had stopped to witness this. Approaching the village of Trampe on the 168 there is a large cluster of these turbines, the height of a 15-storey block of flats. Each propellor must have been the width of a football field, so the crane needed was really, really big. And I mean big. And then some. The blades were on the floor with about 40-50 chaps busy doing something to them. At the edge of the group was one chap watching them, talking on his mobile. Wonder what he was saying? "Guv, we're missing one of those sprocket thingies". Or perhaps: "Are you sure it's the right fitting". Anyway, the way the crane bent when it lifted the blades into the air, I'm amazed it didn't topple forward. Fancy explaining that one to the insurance company.
Now here I find myself pulled over from another one of those forest roads just west of Schönberg. I've had a few cars go by, looking at my van as if to say "wish I had one of those", or perhaps "wait till midnight when the Police wake you up". Let's see!
