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In our youngest sons’ medical record there’s a medical report from the children’s hospital in Esslingen to our children’s doctor, dated the 30th of January 2007. The introduction begins:
“Report of the above named patient who was brought to our emergency department at 07:54 this morning. Found this morning …breathing loudly and drowsy. Emergency doctor called, on arrival patient unresponsive…“
I can’t read those rather undramatic words without remembering the fear I felt holding my tiny six-month-old baby and trying to get him to wake up, move, respond, anything. I remember the rasping wheezing sound of his breath as I tried to call the advice line to see what I could do, and being met with a barrage of questions about my insurance details, address, and other things that I really didn’t what to deal with right then, before explaining the symptoms and hearing the words “Call an ambulance”. Well, gee thanks. I could have done that three precious minutes ago.
The dispatcher told me the emergency doctor was on his way, and to wait outside the house for them to come so they could find us quickly, so I stood outside for a private eternity, trying to stay calm so my family wouldn’t get even more scared, while a truck decided to deliver in the shop next door and caused a traffic jam in both directions. The doctor’s red and white mercedes came, blue lights reflecting off the houses, and they piled out carrying oxygen bottles, monitoring devices and other unfamiliar but strangely comforting tools of the trade, asking questions even before they were through the door.
Our little boy still wouldn’t respond to light, noise or gentle shaking so an ambulance was called. We carried him there, lit by flashing blue lights, with neighbours watching through the windows, although I admit I felt a slight stab of justice when I saw the Ambulance was parked in the loading bay, blocking the truck in.
After continual talking and massaging in the ambulance, I was rewarded by a squeeze of his fingers as we rattled through the morning rush-hour traffic, and the ambulance drivers were fairly confident that he’d be okay, but he didn’t really seem to wake up until he was being examined in the hospital. The form shows a great long list of things they checked before coming to the eventual conclusion it was Croup, probably aggravated by the Feinstaub (Particle pollution) from diesel engines: at the time we were living in an apartment next to a street with 1500 trucks and 13000 cars passing daily.
That morning ‘caring for the environment’ became personal. For me it’s not just about ‘looking after the earth’ but a memory of waiting for the doctor and not knowing if my little boy would die. I don’t want other parents to have to stand on the street, praying the ambulance will come quickly, that their child will wake up or just keep breathing.
We’d followed the cultural belief that ‘one day’ we would have to get a car but on January 30th 2007, that changed. Our family learned first hand the cost of society’s addiction to driving everywhere, and decided we won’t live that way. The process that resulted in us getting the Xtracycle, going to Amsterdam and bringing a bakfiets to Stuttgart and much else, was kicked into high gear that morning.
We’re a car free family in a car obsessed culture: this is our story.
[When the next post comes up, this will move to the 'about' page]
Yeah, Right.
“Because new is cleaner. The Environment Premium Plus”
There’s an old saying amongst writers that when you write satire, you’ll never beat real life.
This advert shows how: the problem is where to start amongst the rich pickings of nonsense? The idea that scrapping a perfectly good car and buying a new one is good for the environment? That’s an interesting suggestion, as the old, and by implication, dirty vehicles were made by the same people that now want you to buy new ones, so are car companies now saying the very vehicles they claimed were clean and effecient are actually dirty polluters? Have they just found this out?
The really lovely bits are in that green panel entitled, “The Environment Premium Plus.” As presented here, the ‘Environment Premium Plus’ package has the following points: on top of the government handout of €2500 for scrapping your old car, you’ll get an extra reduction, 0,9% Financing, Insurance, and a lengthened gaurantee.
The new Greenwash, coming to a town near you. And if you don’t drive the car companies will take your money anyway.
Back to more positive stuff soon, I promise.
The scene: A small room set up for an interview. Two comfortable chairs, face a table with some mineral water and artificial flowers. There’s a very bland picture on the wall. Julia and Nigel are sitting in the chairs and, Julia seems to be doing most of the talking.
Julia: Hello again Nigel. How are you feeling?
Nigel: Terrible.
Julia: It’s okay, that’s normal at this stage of the therapy.
Nigel: You mean it gets better?
Julia: Probably not. Now, I’ve got the report from the workshop you attended last week: „Buying Petrol“. They say you didn’t do too badly, although you did have trouble paying.
Nigel: So… much… money…
Julia: You’ll get used to it, Nigel. They also say you only half-filled the tank. That’s okay for now, don’t worry. So tell me how the week went.
Nigel: Well, I drove around for about twenty minutes on Friday …used the car to get to work on Monday. And Tuesday…
Julia: Good, well done. And what about Saturday?
Nigel: Er… no.
Julia: Why not?
Nigel: (Shifty) I didn’t go anywhere on Saturday.
Julia: Really?
Nigel. No…
Julia: What happened on Saturday Nigel?
Nigel: I… I…
Julia: You went cycling, didn’t you Nigel?
Nigel: Well… Yeah.
Julia: Nigel, you really have to try harder than this. I know you’re gaining weight and getting more aggressive than you were, but that won’t last as long as you keep taking bike rides on the quiet.
Nigel: I know… I couldn’t stop myself. I deliberately stayed in bed late so I’d have to rush to get the milk, like you said. And I kept telling myself „Cycling is dangerous, Cycling is inconvenient and too much work“
Julia: Good, and then?
Nigel: Well, I went downstairs and saw my bike and I thought I’d move it… and the next thing I knew I was riding down the road and I’d forgotten about the milk and it was three hours later… But the strange thing was…
Julia: What?
Nigel: I felt happier after that than I felt all week. I was smiling, and I didn’t swear at Mrs. Smith, I even offered to help her with the rubbish bin, I haven’t done that for ages.
Julia: Mrs. Smith?
Nigel: My designated target of undeserved anger and abuse.
Julia: Nigel, you still haven’t managed a week of driving yet. I can’t recommend you for the next stage of training as a proper member of society until you are being aggressive and unhealthy at least seven days, and that requires driving.
Nigel: I know… I’m trying, I really am…
Julia: What about yesterday?
Nigel: (Suddenly nervous) Yesterday?
Julia: You mentioned Monday and Tuesday, now it’s Thursday. Yesterday was supposed to be your first unaccompanied pavement parking day. Did you do it?
Nigel: I tried. The car wouldn’t start: I turned the key thingy in the hole and it made a whirring sound and that was it.
Julia: (Sighs) Did you put petrol in since the workshop?
Nigel: You mean you have to do it twice?
Julia: Several times a week, Nigel.
Nigel: I can’t afford that.
Julia: You have to be able to afford that from now on. A lot of people are depending on you Nigel: mechanics, banks, investors, oil executives who haven’t had a raise in a fortnight, and third world dictators who need your money to pay for their military hardware and private villas. Not to mention the doctors and nurses who depend on the pollution you make to keep them working.
Nigel: But… It doesn’t make any sense… You really mean everyone has to be miserable so the system will work?
Julia: What would happen when everyone thought about how much it costs, and stopped driving? Hardly any children would be admitted to hospital with breathing difficulties, obesity would drop… think what would happen to the healthcare system, the pharmaceutical industry. That’s why having a car is so important: It shows you are a Good Citizen, contributing to society.
Nigel: It’s no good, I can’t do it.
Julia: Be careful, Nigel, I could throw you off the course. You’ll be considered odd by everyone you meet for not having a car. People will make assumptions about your income and your emotional stability when they see you on the street. How will you manage to be aggressive?
Nigel: But… what if I don’t what that?
Julia: (The big one) Your earning potential could drop…
Nigel: But… Hang on. I don’t have to keep buying petrol, so that’s not a big deal.
Julia: But you are so close to the next level of initiation, the right to use the new slogan „Four Wheels Good, Two Wheels Bad“, and the free pink Furry Dice.
Nigel: (He’s tempted) Pink furry dice?
Julia: To hang on the rear view mirror. (dangling dice) think about it…
Nigel: Hmm… fresh air…
Julia: Nigel. Don’t throw it all away.
Nigel: The feeling of having achieved something when I get home…
Julia: No! Fight it, Nigel! Remember: Cycling is dangerous! Cycling is inconvenient! Cycling is hard work! Think of those poor oil executives!
Nigel: I can’t do it. I need the fresh air… To see sky… (Exit)
Julia: (shouting after him) I’ll throw you off the course…
Nigel: (in the distance) Do it! (Car keys fly through the door onto the table)
Julia: (Gets up and follows) How can you be so selfish? (Exit after Mike)
(Hat tip to the Champaign-Urbana blog for the link to ‘How to give up cycling‘ Which set me off thinking about this.)
I’ve mentioned before that there is a harebrained scheme in the offing to lay yet more tarmac on the fields by our village, and last week there was an information evening where a local traffic planner was giving us details of what they were going to do. I naturally felt I had to go: I’m a local resident with children, I had a duty to both of my readers to blog about it and besides, there may be food
Some background may be needed here. We live in a fairly small village just outside of Stuttgart which happens to be between an Autobahn to the south and a port and industrial centre to the North. There is a bypass to the east and west, but we still have a lot of traffic through the village (about 13500 cars and 1500 trucks every 24 hours). Almost everyone wants a bypass because they believe it will ‘finally’ solve the problem. Like the last one was supposed to. And the one before that. It never does because traffic expands and contracts to fill the available space. Naturally the Strassenbauamt (Road building ministry) are aware of this but keep quiet about it.
While almost everyone wants the bypass, no-one wants it going past their house, and I don’t blame them. So now there is a new scheme being proposed by Stuttgart. They are offering to build a nice new road under the village to connect to one of the existing bypasses. This will take the traffic well away from the village and the noise, and no-one will have their view spoiled.
This is marsh gas. Absolute, 100% unadulterated cobblers. Anyone capable of walking erect should smell a king-sized rat when Stuttgart offers to build something for Ostfildern. Why would a city offer to spend taxpayers money on an infrastructure project in another administrative district? The answer is geography. There’s a major intersection of north-south and east-west autobahns, to the South West of Stuttgart used by a lot of traffic, but also a lot of traffic from the North-west going to the South East. This traffic has to curve around three sides of Stuttgart and climb a major hill. For about 20 years the Strassenbauamt has been quietly working on a plan for a bypass to the east of Stuttgart avoiding the hill, and it’s a section of this road that will go under our village. In other words, the road isn’t a bypass for us, but for Stuttgart, under this village.
Unfortunately, they’ve done their spin well: the notion is fixed in people’s minds that we need a bypass.
The economy is now going fast down the toilet, and the transport industry is going with it. As the majority of the traffic is cars, and about half of that is internal traffic, we could reduce traffic in the village simply by making less parking spaces and more bike infrastructure, because traffic expands and contracts to fit the space available… but I’m being rational, and using science which isn’t going to get me anywhere in this debate.
Not that any of this matters, because despite the huff and puff, no-one has yet committed to the €20-30 billion that this white elephant will cost, so I suspect it’ll be a while before any diggers turn up, but rest assured the Strassenbauamt is out there somewhere, building pointless roads to link up their fantasy network…
Yep, I’m afraid that the post I put up yesterday was an April Fools joke. Sadly, Ostfildern isn’t planning to invest in cycling in the future, even though most of the measures described are already being used within about 10 kilometres of here. Obviously my piece was a bit subtle- the local paper was less so, having a front page headline about the Mayor resigning over daylight savings time.
But if I’d posted the real news you wouldn’t have believed it either: Stuttgart and Ostfildern plan to build a new €200m bypass underground with junctions serving various villages and smashing their way through several nature reserves. The paper reporting this said that the Green Party were against this because it “May generate more traffic”. I think they “May” be right there.
But that’s Ostfildern: never mind that our dependency on oil is killing people and sending us headlong into serious economic trouble when the stuff runs out, and never mind that the rest of Germany is waking up to the idea that we can’t keep building more rat runs:, or that the Neckar valley has the worst air quality in Germany (Way over the EU pollution limit) mostly because of motor vehicles. Here in Ostfildern we’re going to need more roads, roads, roads, for our fast cars and trucks.
What a depressing thought. The next post will be a bit lighter, I promise.
Middle son learning about real transportation
The businessman stopped stirring his coffee and looked at me in disbelief.
“You walked here with two children?”
“Er… yes”.
“All the way from the railway station? In this weather?”
I looked out of the window. It was cold and overcast. There was snow left on the ground, and I tried to think of a way to say “We’re trying to have a lower impact on the environment around us.” without sounding judgmental or pious. in German. The businessman followed my gaze out of the window.
“If I was going just to there” -He gestured at a house about 100m away- “I’d use the car in this weather.” He looked across at a mutual friend who confirmed that I was indeed about to use my legs to transport myself two kilometres to the railway station, had been offered a lift, and had declined on the basis that I seemed to have ‘forgotten’ a car seat for the boys.
“Wow. That’s a completely different lifestyle.”
For most of the party thus far, people had talked about cars. The current government has come up with a cunning plan to revitalise the car manufacturing industry: if you had an old car and you can prove you scrapped it and bought a new one, they’ll give you money towards the new one, so some people here had obviously decided that subsidy is good and got a new car. The discussion was all about acceleration rates, power-to-weight ratios, maintenance costs, the exorbitant amount the government sucks out of the poor hardworking motorist these days, and of course whose car did more kilometres per litre. Yawn.
These were not stupid, lazy or ignorant people. They were kind, smart and working hard, in an affluent society that teaches the ethic of burning vast amounts of energy to get where they wanted to go Right Now and Fast.
I decided to go for a early train home. This confirmed my eccentricity: I was proposing to take 2 hours eating a picnic on a train with big windows, a toilet, and lots of space, instead of 45 cramped minutes dodging Mercedes drivers and hoping the boys wouldn’t get too hungry or need the loo before we got back. For reason’t that I can’t quite explain the latter idea held no appeal, so I gathered the boys up and we said our farewells and made a Heroic Exit Into The Tempest. We walked back along a wide shared use bike/pedestrian route that barely touched a road and arrived at the station in time to see the train depart. Typical.
Standing on the station waiting for an onward train to Stuttgart in the dark is not the best place to be upbeat, and the thought of a generation growing up with their lives dominated by cars was a bit depressing. Being treated as the eccentric cyclist can get a bit wearing and I do have days when I wonder why I bother. Are we making a difference?
The brightest light in the station came from a well-lit building at one end of the platform, and having nothing better to do than grump like a nordic playwright, I went over to investigate. It was a sizeable multi-storey bike park, secure and enclosed, and absolutely full of bikes. There’s hope yet.
The picnic/train ride was fun too.
Entrance to a 'Spielstrasse', with sign.
Here’s an experiment for anyone who drives a German car: on a level road, put it into first gear and take your foot off the accelerator. It should drive along at exactly 7km/h. (oh yeah: turn it on first)
This is because German towns have a network of ‘Spielstrassen’; equivalent of a ‘Woonerf’ in the Netherlands. On a Spielstrasse, everyone has the same rights to the space, cars going through must give way to people and to other cars coming from the right, and drive at walking speed: 7km/h. If you’re wondering where I got this useless information, I learned to drive in Germany and was informed many times of the dire consequences of speeding or running into a child (If you’re lucky the police catch you before the mob does) .
It’s a great system. Germans are usually pretty good drivers and most people drive at a maximum of around 10-15km/h, take care, don’t bully you and wait for pedestrians. On the other hand, because it’s a road, people tend to be aware of bikes and things so there’s very little conflict. They are great to cycle along because the boys don’t have to watch out for cars: we can ride three abreast, or practice learn about road cycling. We’re looking for a new apartment and one of the criteria is that is should be on a Spielstrasse if possible.
Junction on a Spielstrasse in our village.
Unfortunately, no matter how scientifically designers design a street, however many bumps they make or trees they plant, however much street furniture they artully arrange to make chicanes, or cobbles they lay to encourage people to drive slowly, someone is going to try and drive fast, and stuff anyone who gets in the way. The notion that their two-ton metal monster could probably do serious -possibly terminal- damage to a child who runs out of their home onto the street doesn’t seem to compute. It’s rare, but it happens, and when it does, the system falls down.
I guess this is on my mind because a town to the north of here has recently announced it is starting a ‘shared space‘ scheme instead of building a bypass. This is different to a Spielstrasse because it’s on the main road: there will be no speed limit, but everyone has equal rights to the road, so trucks must give way to pedestrians, and drive slowly enough to stop if they need to (and in Germany the blame is squarely on the driver if they drive into a pedestrian). I really want to see ’shared space’ work because it bucks the trend of sacrificing land, houses, children’s health, and anything else that gets in the way of speeding motor vehicles: it makes drivers slow down which driving less convenient, which is good for all of us because then less people drive. If it works, it could be a way of allowing pedestrians and cyclists back onto constricted village roads where motor vehicles currently rule, but looking at the way many drivers behave on our local roads, I wonder if the lack of barriers will make them negotiate or get more aggresive. Or am I being unduly pessimistic?
I’ll try and visit this scheme as it comes online, and post what I find.
[Since I posted this, Velochick has gone to visit the shared space scheme in Ashford, UK. She wasn't that impressed, although from her description the scheme isn't really true 'Shared space'.]
I was intending to write about a bike ride over the weekend, but ever more snow came down, and on Valentines Day Beautiful Wife was stuck in bed with ‘flu, so I was looking after her and Da Boys and shovelling snow every day, which doesn’t leave much time or energy for going out on two wheels. So instead here’s something that made me laugh out loud a couple of weeks ago.
Exhibit 'A'
Exhibit ‘A’: A possible contender for the People Powered inspired parking award of the year. If the car was any closer, I’m not sure they could have opened the door. This sets a very high standard for the rest of the year. I don’t know if it could possibly be bettered.
If you’re wondering, it’s blatantly, clearly, obviously, not a parking space, but neither is where exhibit ‘B’ is parked. I’m wondering if they are in the same meeting, or if the car was parked there in protest. Exhibit ‘A’ is going to have a real job getting out: maybe the peasants revolt has started after the Christmas break.
Exhibit 'B'
Sunrise
I’m feeling guilty. I’ve been repeatedly told it’s very difficult to live here without a car and I’m trying to have a hard time, but it really isn’t working.
I’m trying to miss the car culture in which we can drive 3km or less to our destination instead of walking, or drive into a congested city centre on a Saturday and avoid changing from bus to tram twice to get there, even though it’s quicker. I know that’s the normal way of life locally, and I do try and feel guilty for not partaking in it.
You can be sure that when I stop at traffic lights and say hello to the old lady crossing it, I tell myself that I’ve missed the thrill of cutting across just before the lights changed. I berate myself that I could have saved an extra few seconds- and that those lost seconds could have made all the difference to my daily productivity. While riding on a Feldweg I remind myself of the joy of sitting in a small tin box cut off from the world while watching the line of traffic in front move another five metres closer to the next junction, and of course the fun of honking the horn at any cars, trucks, bikes, people and large dogs that get in the way of my car.
It’s a bit easier to feel miserable in the rain, especially when it is horizontal, or there’s a headwind, which is the only sort of wind there is when you’re on a bike, but that doesn’t happen nearly enough: after a few days the rain subsides and I’m horrified to find that I’m enjoying myself again.
- Spot the Xtracycle…
When I think that instead of the cold morning breeze I could be breathing carefully filtered air to a temperature of my choosing, and breathing it twice, I am unmoved. When I hear the birdsong and the sounds of the river I’m passing, I remind myself that if I was driving, I could just as easily be listening to my own choice of CD’s, but this does not make me feel that my life is somehow lacking. I try and become stressed when I see the prices posted by petrol stations, but to be honest I rarely notice petrol stations and the prices they are so irrelevant as to be meaningless, so that doesn’t work either. The passing advantages of being sick less often, having a healthy body, less chance of heart disease and obesity related problems, and possibly living ten years longer have caused me to lose perspective.
If anyone out there has a suggestion how I could try and be more miserable let me know. In the meantime you may rest assured that I will try and believe I’m having a hard time, or at least feel thoroughly guilty for having so much fun.
Fast Car Man Vs. Rogue Cyclist
October 13, 2009 in Bad Driving, Industrial Strength Satire, Trenchant comments about cars | 6 comments
There were roadworks in the village. All was chaos: diggers roamed the streets; the road bristled with traffic cones and raised manhole covers threatened passing vehicles. Then, from he north, came Fast Car Man.
Where did he come from? No-one knew, but if it was more than 200m away he would have passed a sign saying “No Entry” and another sign showing “Diversion”, pointing to the right. Perhaps he came from beyond the sign, perhaps he missed it. Whatever occurred on that fateful morning, Fast Car Man came into the centre of the village fearing nothing, because Fast Car Man had The Knowledge.
Whether it was received through the words of the ancients, or vouchsafed via his GPS Navigator, Fast Car Man knew there was another way. A narrow way, beset with cobbles, and protected by The Sign, but there, free from traffic cameras, and known to important drivers with pressing business appointments.
Fast Car Man turned into the road, past The Sign ‘Play Street’, and over the mysterious 3 metre long white road marking bearing the mystical ‘7kmh’, for Fast Car Man was Late For Work, and drove an Expensive Vehicle. Which clearly conferred upon him the right to Drive as He Pleased.
But then Fast Car Man saw a Rogue Cyclist driving at the regulation 7km/h, right in the middle of the road, making overtaking impossible. Fast Car Man slowed to the speed of the Rogue Cyclist and revved his engine a couple of times, clearly communicating that as the driver of a Fast Car he was too important to be delayed. The Rogue Cyclist took no notice, but blatantly continued to drive on the speed limit.
There is always a way. As the Rogue Cyclist turned a corner, an empty parking space on the left hand side offered a chance. Fast Car Man could speed down there and brush the Rogue Cyclist aside with his two-ton vehicle. He nosed his car alongside The Rogue Cyclist… and glared at his adversary and gesticulated his demand that the Rogue Cyclist yield to the true master of the road, but the Rogue Cyclist kept going straight, forcing Fast Car Man to brake for a stationary car.
By now the main road was in sight, with prowling diggers and shunting trucks. Fast Car Man followed The Rogue Cyclist, ready remonstrate in the time-honoured way, but it was not to be. Rogue Cyclist turned left from the main road and into a gap alongside a large truck.
Fast Car Man decided to be lenient this time: he was late, and besides the truck was bigger than his car and might scratch it.