03 Nov 06
Lunch is a brief pause in the magnificent gardens of the Hermitage in the outskirts of Bayreuth, home of composer Richard Wagner's own opera house. This is autumn at its best, all burnt yellows, oranges and piercing reds - but there's no time to linger, as we have to get back on the road. Berlin is quite a contrast to Stuttgart. The capital is much bigger and more varied, reflecting its tradition of creativity - a tradition that first the Nazis and then, in the years of partition, the East German authorities tried but failed to stamp out.
On day three, as we cross the Polish border, we have our passports checked for the first time since we arrived at Charles de Gaulle in Paris. It's a simple enough border crossing, but it gives us a definite sense that we're out of the assigned comfort of Europe as we know it. Poland seems austere after Germany. The motorway linking East and West now has only one carriageway, shabbily surfaced. Tattered one-storey homes are scattered at irregular distances from the roadside. Vendors display kitsch nicks-knacks; a peasant sells honey. The driving feels different too, an element of risk entering as we overtake trucks so huge that we find it hard to estimate how long our manoeuvres will take.
Lunch is a quick stop at Rogalin Castle, south of the city of Posen. We sample local cuisine in what's said to be the most beautiful garden in Poland. I'm joined by one of the Poles, who's on the trip because he won a competition. He is full of hope for his country after the fall of Communism and entry into the EU, but he's frustrated by the slow rate of change. 'In Estonia they have a 50% growth a year,' he says. 'We need to catch up.'
We arrive too late at night to appreciate Warsaw. In fact, all that stands out is a 24-hour Tesco. But in the morning, as we hit the road for Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania, we see that Warsaw is undergoing an almighty metamorphosis. With cranes everywhere, it's one gigantic construction site.
