FROM THE "ROAD NOTES OF MAVEN": Only Different Faces And Places!

FROM THE "ROAD NOTES OF MAVEN": Only Different Faces And Places!, originally uploaded by mavenimagery® Officially Away....

FROM THE "ROAD NOTES OF MAVEN": Only Different Faces And Places!
Image: single (Shot with 4MP Canon, 2002) jpeg enhanced with IRET.

Previously On FROM THE "ROAD NOTES OF MAVEN:,
“Cool!” I interject, taking a gulp from the Brandy. “How rough a road can be? A road is a road, after all, right?”
Silence.
“Right?” I ask again.
Little did I know?
Chapter One
After the “Goodbyes” and “See you later, screwballs” with my German friends, I head toward Munich which is the capital city of Bavaria (Bayern), Germany. It is located on the River Isar north of the Bavarian Alps. The city of Orlando di Lasso, Heinrich Schultz and later Mozart and Richard Wagner). During the 16th century Munich was a center of the German Counter Reformation, and also of renaissance arts.
The only incident: I pass the welcoming sign, "München mag Dich" (Munich likes you)”, and later the river Isar next to a settlement of Benedictine monks—this was on the Salt Route and a toll bridge, the confident of being in a civilized country didn’t last long as I notice a brown-shit-color- old Honda Civic, trying to side-kick me for some reason that is only just to get whoever the driver’s freak on which is on every street of California. But, human nature spoiled further with Hollywood was a big factor. This dufus, however, musta been fooled by the German, Frankfurt License plate, and very much eager to impress the girl riding with him, has a mission.
Now, I’m sandwiched between a trailer in front of me and the Civic on my left, preventing me to pass the Long Vehicle. I slowdown from 80km to 50km which will force the Civic to either go faster or change lane into my lap-lane. Which what…exactly didn’t happen. It was time to terminate. I had a mother and a sister who’d like to see me alive again. The right line has a wide-enough shoulder to allow me, at least, take over the trailer in fewer 0.9 seconds and back on my right lane. I passed the trailer, illegally, from the right side, an Evian bottle in my left hand held tightly, and I as expected, the Civic’ clueless-driver accelerated to continue the game of death. As he approached, now visible in my left side mirror, I slowed a bit to minimize fatal accident should it happen, then I rolled down the window, threw the full bottle of Evian which landed on the Civics’ windshield and caused the dufus to slam on the brakes and slightly causing him to be off the road and stop abruptly. I thought saw the girlfriend delivering a mighty slap across the dufus’ face, but I wasn’t sure since silver-bullet accelerated from 45km to 100kmph in 0.7sec.
OK, I was wrong about the only ‘one incident’…Okay, a dozen incidents, but I’ll mention only the ones that’s worth mentioning. Please, stay with me for this one:
Tired, exhausted and left with no energy to drive, think or whatever a sane driver should or shouldn’t do is now beyond my reach mentally and physically. I looked at my Kenneth Cole wrist watch: 8:46pm. By 8:58pm, I drove through the park and stopped, but left the engine running for heat, reclined the powered seat backwards and crashed into a deep sleep. The light from the infamous police torch hurts my eyes. I sat up and rolled the window down.
“Ja?” I say in sleepy German.
“Are you OK?” asks the blue eyes, blond hair with a face of Charlize Theron who’s committed a crime by being a Politzei.
“Ich bin fein” I say.
“Paß, bitte” says Charlize.
“Welcher Paß” I ask. Then, I switch to English. “I need to get some sleep now, if you don’t mind!”
“Not, here, you can’t” retort Charlize whom I demote instantly to the dyke-face Angela Merkel. Cruel, I can be…easily.
“Warum nicht, Fräulein Merkel?” I say in mock-tone. “Can you tell me why not?”
The sweet Charlize has transformed to the dyke-face Angela Merkel. “Because this is a public resting area. You are not allowed to sleep with the running engine!”
Dyke Merkel had a point…or did not, I’ll never know. All I know is this: respect visitors! And if you don’t, I’m sure you’re violating one or two of Genoa conventions treates.
“I ask the questions,” Merkel snapped, then whispered something in German to her male partner.
“What?” I retort, no German talk will take place; no respect will be even considered. “OK, bitch! You ask the questions! Here is my international, wait…global, driver’s license and passport. I’s not red like a communist’s pass. It’s green. Hope you know what color green stands for”.
Green or red or blue, they went through my trunk: Armani suits, Boss trench coats, Samsonite suitcases, Gor-Tex skiing suits, Nike snickers…imagine you have the best from each designer store that you think you’ll need. Nothing illegal but extravaganza, which has no penal code in any country. All I wanted is a beauty sleep, not for my face but for my fatigued brain-cells, and I’m being treated like a homeless vagabond, loitering with his fifty-thousand dollar Audi TT, which was purchased in Germany and contributed to the economy...think exchanging dollars to euro and you lose almost a grand. Can’t this buy me an hour of sleep in the park? Not without an authority that gone bad judgment-wis? But, It should. I’m not talking money here, but courtesy! The world is big enough and we can all love each other.
“You have one hour to leave” says Merkel. I don’t respond. The fifty thousand dollars has bought me an hour to rest in the park, just ike I thought.

I love to drive! I think I have an internal compass that is a wonderful gift. I hope to average 200 miles a day. I drive through preserved natural greenery that can be found in Austria at almost every step. Hybrid? Green? It’s all car Manufacturers and others that followed suit which accumulated to a giant heap of disguised manure. Everything, e.g. Austria’s most unusual school, can be found high on a mountain pasture. Ever seen one of those fable-like postcards where there is a chalet in the foreground (or background) and lavish green, verdant meadows stretch all the way to the skirts of tree covered high mountains capped with snow? This is it… I drove through magnificent mountain passes, past spectacular lakes and through beautiful old towns. Here the journey itself is the reward! I think to myself.
Drive through National park Hohe Tauern
Drive through landscape and the natural beauty
Give me pure and fresh air
Give me a stretch of lush, tree-covered mountainsides crowded with beautiful chalets.
Spare me Arnold who has betrayed this pureness!

I call it a day in Slovenia. The receptionist can spot a tourist, local or overseas customer; can spot the desperate travelers. S/He knows the trades: out in the freezing cold or inside in a warm queen bed and fresh and silky sheets.
“Sorry, but overbooked” says the receptionist.
“Is the National Hockey Team staying tonight?” I ask, holding a fifty-euro in my hand, waving it in front of his wide-open-greedy eyes.
“Sorry, but I can’t disclose such—‘
“…Information” I complete the irritating sentence for him. I take another twenty and place it over the fifty, “Maybe,” I say enunciating on each word. “There are a few poor Albanians in those rooms, eh?”
“No, sir. No Albanians”.
“May-be, juust may-be, some Russian Natashas—‘
“No. We have no Russians—‘
“That’s all you’re gonna get into your greedy pockets,” I say, finally, in a no-bullshit tone, looking him straight in the eyes. “Now, the keys, please”.
“I can’t do this,” the receptionist says, his eyes glued on the euros. “It’s totally against company regulations”.
I’m getting tired with this midget whose name is Divjak printed on his name tag. This brain-locked-Divjak-ass- midget whose eyes see nothing but euros is straining my patience. The patience that I had lost driving the “Legally Criminal twelve-hours” over the ‘legal eight-hours’ drive. “Screw company regs!” I say sternly but not raising my voice. “What is this, Holiday Inn? Hilton? Now…listen you little prick. From the way you speak very good English I’ll say you have been put here by the company and we both know what kind of company this is now, don’t we?” I take the twenty euro bill off of the fifty, sensing a mixture of fear and disassociation, pressing on his internal brakes, the midget is now caught off-balance. “How’s this for company regulations? The price table behind you says “Double room with shower, WC, 50euro”. But you had to pull that stale trick we are over-booked crap. Try to find some more original reasons dumb-ass. The keys…for the last time”.


Will continue...