Second Train to Munich

10\6\93

The countryside changes quickly as you leave Holland and enter  Germany. Holland's flat country begins to roll and grow trees; houses begin to look neater, larger, and more prosperous. You gain a sense of economic well being and great care for appearances. The hills grow larger and become large stone walls lining a beautiful river, the Lorelei, I think. Farmers somehow manage to grow grapes on these steep, rocky slopes. 

The farms are small, perfectly symmetrical patches that almost look painted onto the hillsides. Neat, tidy houses line  the  river banks. Barges push themselves through the water, carrying cargo. Even the barges look well scrubbed--not like the disreputable rust buckets you see in the States.

The Germans love their flowers and gardens. Geraniums sprout from window boxes all along the rail line. Small gardens, too, grow along the line. Each garden seems to have its own little potting shed, some much nicer than others, painted and in good repair, and almost large enough to live in. (Some do appear to be lived in.)

The trains run on time, making very brief stops at the stations. We had about three minutes to change trains in Mannheim. We really hustled our luggage--like a pair of displaced Okies, which, of course, we were.

The trains just keep getting nicer. I think the Germans have an aversion to litter. Everything is so . . . TIDY.

I hope we don't mess it up.