There four categories of German gas station.
First, there's the local shop, where they actually still sell tires and do oil changes. You can still find a normal regular gas station in small towns and villages throughout Germany. They are a dying breed. Don't expect anything fancy....these are the guys who are marginally making a profit and somehow survive.
Second, there are the gas stations....which just sell gas and offer a car-wash....with nothing else beyond sodas and snack food. They've popped up over the past twenty years and tend to be more of a urban thing.
Third, there are the gas stations with a coffee bisto shop and some fancy breakfast treats to offer. Guys stop in twice a week to get some decent coffee on the way to work, and pick up a fancy pastry or such. They tend to be positioned at the end of a town or near a autobahn entry point.
Fourth, the autobahn gas stations. These are the type that you pull up, and top off the tank after three hours of driving. Being tired and hungry.....after you pay for fuel.....you pull around the corner to the restaurant. For $12, you get a plate of something, which has a fifty-fifty shot of being a decent meal. Then you step into the bathroom to relieve yourself....which is cleaned hourly by some gal, who posts herself near the door and expects 40 Euro-cents in the plate next to her chair. Finally, there's the little shop where you can buy the fancy treats or drinks for your trip....which are typically twenty-percent higher than your corner grocery.
There are two odd things which German gas stations sell.....girly magazines and booze. As you step up next to the cashier.....there's always a dozen girly magazines which are laid out, in full view. An American would likely be shocked, but somehow....the station is selling hundreds of these each month and every nickel counts. You will notice to the left or right of the counter....a container of sorts....with vast shots of booze for sell. These one-shot bottles are typically around a Euro or 1.5 Euro. A guy stops after work....tired and run down....after paying for his gas....picks up two bottles. He guzzles them down and pulls into the driveway of his house ten minutes later....when the booze starts to hit his system. For a brief while after he enters the house.....the wife can whine all she wants....but it just won't matter because he's feeling kinda good from the two shots.
There used to be a station in every village of any size. But as the 1970s came and stringent rules on tanks came into play....a number of stations disappeared. So you might actually live in a village of a hundred homes.....without a gas station. You might even live in a village of three hundred homes, and only have two gas stations.
The sad thing that I've come to notice....is that this used to be the place where you could stop and ask a general maintenance question, and have some mechanical advice given. The truth now? Ingrid, the cashier knows how to dispense coffee, run the cash machine, and knows forty-four different villages in the local area to provide you directions.....but she knows nothing about transmissions.
You might roll into a station run by Rita....and she might just know enough to ring up your purchases and operate the car-wash machine....so forget about asking about winter tires there.
The truth is that Germany is entering a period where you just don't have a local real mechanic around your village, and you might have to branch out and look for an authority on maintenance that operates a gas station twelve miles away.
So if you ever come to Germany....don't worry much about your gas situation. There's always a station somewhere.
No comments:
Post a Comment