EXPENSES AND SUGGESTIONS
The purchase of the car at the Benz factory in Mannheim, Germany,
plunged us at once into a maze of police regulations. It was necessary
to secure a driving license. With us in the United States this is hardly
more than a matter of routine. Not so in Germany, where the examination
is really a formidable affair. It is especially difficult for a
foreigner to secure a driving license. He may be able to give evidence
proving that he has driven a car for years in his own country. This fact
makes no difference. It is not even taken into consideration. Every
possible opportunity is given the candidate to make mistakes, and thus
to prove that he is not qualified to receive the desired certificate. No
detail of motormanship is overlooked. There is an age requirement of
eighteen years. First came the physical examination. Then it was
necessary to spend two hours a day in the shop for five and a half weeks
so as to become thoroughly acquainted with the various parts of the
motor car. The candidate is given an opportunity to see motor cars taken
apart and put together. In this way he is made familiar with the use and
purpose of every part of the car. The crucial test begins when he is
called upon to show his skill as chauffeur. It is customary to drive one
hundred miles in the city and surrounding country. The official police
inspector who accompanies him is resourceful in his tests. Under his
supervision the car is driven through crowded streets, and made to back
up and turn around in difficult places,--in fact, to meet all the
emergencies of motor travel. Even after the examination has been passed
successfully, there is a delay of several days before the license is
given the final stamp of official approval. The license for which we
made application on February 22 was not secured until April 10. It cost
one hundred _marks_ (about twenty-five dollars). Of this amount, one
half goes to the state and the balance to the shop giving the candidate
his instruction in motor-car mechanics. The inspector receives ten
dollars for his services. There is also a customary charge of one
dollar and a half for the number plate.
Americans who have lived for a considerable time in Germany are always
impressed with the numerous occasions when the state interferes in the
private life of the individual; the foreign motorist is no exception to
this rule of coming at once into contact with the state. He no sooner
crosses the frontier than the state compels him to pay a tax. Even
though he remains in the country but a single day, he is forced to
secure a tax license which costs three _marks_ (about seventy-five
cents). These tax licenses are issued to cover periods of from one to
ninety days, the license good for three months costing fifty _marks_. If
one remains longer than ninety days it is necessary to renew this
license or _Steuerkarte_. The annual tax on motor cars varies according
to the power of the car. A car of 13.9 horse power (German rating) would
be taxed one hundred and twenty _marks_. The German tax net spreads
everywhere. At the time of our sojourn in that country the city of
Munich was considering the introduction of a tax on cats. Such a tax
would without doubt be the first of its kind in the world. In southern
Germany the small towns still continue to exact imposts of ten
_pfennigs_ (three cents) from the motor cars passing over their roads.
In spite of the complaint that this tax is a serious obstacle to trade
and traffic, there is no immediate prospect of its being removed.
France, in contrast to Germany, does not subject the foreign motorist to
a tax unless his sojourn exceeds a period of four months.
The annual dues of the Rheinische Automobile Club amounted to forty
_marks_. Membership in an organization of this kind is necessary to
secure the _triptyques_ which are so indispensable to the motorist whose
itinerary includes several countries of Europe. The usefulness of this
important document has been described so often that we do not feel
called upon to make further comment here. Our international driving
permit based upon the special license issued by the state was also
secured for a small fee from the automobile club above mentioned.
Among the incidental expenses, the cost of repairs is apt to figure
largely, particularly when one is motoring along mountain highways.
Such services are much cheaper in Europe than in the United States. In
our case the item was so small as to be almost negligible. The car was
so carefully overhauled and inspected before leaving the factory that we
suffered little inconvenience or delay. Our tire troubles were limited
to a single puncture. Continental tires in the rear and Excelsior in the
front gave excellent service. Notwithstanding the wear and tear of
mountain motoring, we found it necessary to use only one of the two
reserve tires.
Gasoline was everywhere obtainable. In Germany and France the price is
about thirty-seven cents a gallon, but in Austria and Spain it is much
higher, generally approximating eighty cents a gallon. In Italy, where
bargaining is necessary, the price usually dropped from eighty cents to
less than forty-eight cents a gallon. A Bosch magneto greatly increased
the speed and climbing ability of the car, and enabled us to average
about twenty-one miles to every gallon of gasoline. In France the cost
of this necessary article is not fixed. Neighboring towns often showed
a difference of several cents in the cost per gallon. But although the
price is not uniform, the fine quality is, and always gave excellent
results. As a part of our equipment we carried as reserve a five-gallon
sealed can of gasoline and a similar quantity of oil. On these it was
occasionally necessary to pay a duty of a couple of cents at the
numerous _octroi_ stations in France. The inconvenience of these imposts
was usually more burdensome than the amount of the tax. For our oil,
which would have cost about forty cents a gallon in the United States,
we averaged one dollar and ten cents a gallon.
Our hotel bills were not high. We had expected to find them much higher.
Two dollars or two dollars and a half was sufficient as a rule to cover
dinner, chamber, and breakfast. For instance, our rooms at the Hôtel de
France cost one dollar each, the dinner _table d'hôte_ seventy-five
cents each, and breakfast thirty cents, the usual prices which secured
us satisfactory accommodations nearly everywhere in France. Every hotel
had its garage, a fact which we did not always find to be true of the
hotels in Germany. The garage was often not much more than a shed or
lean-to, but it always offered the shelter and protection necessary for
our one-or two-night stops. Sometimes there was a garage charge of one
franc (nineteen and one half cents) a day, but this was exceptional. If
the car was washed we were expected to pay from thirty-five to fifty
cents for this extra service. The scale of prices in Germany and Austria
was possibly twenty per cent higher, but nowhere was there any attempt
to take advantage of the fact that we were foreigners.
The motor tourist is such a familiar sight abroad that the stopping of a
motor car before a provincial hotel does not excite unusual interest. It
is rather an everyday occurrence, an accustomed detail of the day's
routine. France especially, more than any other country in Europe, has
become a land of motor tourists. The large well-to-do class turns
naturally to motoring for recreation and diversion.
The Frenchman practices thrift in his hours of leisure and travel as
well as in his business. This fact probably explains in great part the
comparatively low level of hotel charges to be found in that country.
Contrary to the popular idea, there are not two sets of charges, one for
the European and a higher one for the American. We were never expected
to pay for services that were not rendered in more than ample measure.
On the contrary, we had daily opportunities to observe the effort made
to give us the best possible service for the prices charged. This was
true not only of the hotels but of the restaurants as well. Of course,
for a dollar a day we did not expect to have a _chambre de luxe_. It is
really a constant surprise to see how much one can get in the way of
clean, comfortable rooms and appetizing meals for a small outlay.
France is a country by itself in this respect. There is perhaps no
country where the traveler can get so much for his money. In no other
land of Europe can one motor so cheaply. It is always possible to avoid
the big towns as sleeping places and at meal times, and yet run no risk
of not enjoying the finest cooking and a comfortable night's lodging.
Austria is the most expensive country for the motorist. Spain and
central and southern Italy are so little patronized by motor traffic
that they do not need to be included in our comparison.
The consideration of incidental expenses brings us to the question of
tipping, without doubt the most perplexing and the most misunderstood of
all the problems that confront the foreign motorist in Europe. Long
before his steamer touches the shore of the Old World, he has visions of
an extended line of servants standing with outstretched hands to receive
the expected shower of coins. For the majority of tourists it is almost
an ordeal to leave a European hotel. How often we have heard the
question, "What shall I give?" The average American has such an
instinctive sense of fairness, of wanting to do the right thing, that a
matter of this kind assumes an importance out of all proportion to the
value of the tip. He is willing to be liberal; on the other hand, he is
not eager to pose as a philanthropic and charitable institution created
to satisfy the needs of every hotel employee who says "_Guten Tag_" or
"_Bon jour_" to him when he enters the hotel. The trouble is that in
borrowing this custom from Europe we have so Americanized it that we
find it difficult to get the European viewpoint and to adapt ourselves
readily to the practice as it exists to-day across the water. The
American _voyageur_ is so accustomed to doing things in a large way that
it is not easy for him to appreciate the European system of small
percentages. His common mistake is to give larger tips than are expected
and overlook the small tips which do not seem to be so important. He
hesitates to give a small tip, and in such cases would prefer to give
none at all.
We have read somewhere the story of a Frenchman who was visiting the
United States for the first time. He ate a sixty-cent meal in a New York
restaurant. Following the custom in Paris, he left five per cent of the
bill, three cents, for the waiter. Many of us could probably confess to
an equal uncertainty and helplessness in the presence of our first
tipping experience in Europe. Baedeker's classic rule of ten per cent of
the total amount of the bill seems strangely inadequate when a traveler
has stayed only one night at a hotel and finds that his bill is about
two dollars. The problem of dividing twenty cents so that every one
will be satisfied is a task that he would willingly turn over to
somebody else. As a matter of fact, while there is no arbitrary rule, it
does not take long to discover that the _pourboire_ and _Trinkgeld_ are
fixed and permanent institutions, as solid in their reality as the
Credit Lyonnais or the Reichsbank. One is expected to give at least
something, even if the service rendered has been merely nominal. The
French and German systems of coinage, with their _5-centime_ and
_10-pfennig_ pieces, fit in so conveniently to the European standards of
tipping. Judging from our experience, the tourist will be most quickly
at ease who observes the custom as it is practiced by the inhabitants of
the country, and then makes his own scale of tips slightly larger.
Foreigners are expected to be a little more liberal. The quality of
service received will ordinarily more than compensate for this slight
increase. In Valence, where we stayed only one night, the bill,
including chamber, dinner, and breakfast, amounted to twenty francs for
two people. Our tips were itemized as follows:
FRANCS CENTIMES
Garçon 50
Femme de chambre 50
Valet de chambre 50
Concierge 1
Garage 25
-- --
Total 2 75
If there was an _ascenseur_ in the hotel the elevator boy never looked
insulted when we gave him ten or fifteen _centimes_. If extra service
was rendered, we paid for it accordingly. This scale of tipping secured
us good service in the small provincial towns. In the larger places the
_maître de l'hôtel_ (head waiter) plays a more important role and ranks
in tipping dignity with the _concierge_. In Italy the equivalent of four
cents per person would be considered liberal in most restaurants. In
Germany, where the rise in cost of living is more noticeable than in
France, the item of tipping was slightly larger. Austria gave us the
most difficulty. Here the system is more complicated. The
_Speise-traeger_ who brings you food, the _Piccolo_ who ministers to
your thirst, the _Zahl-kellner_ who receives payment for the bill, all
expect their contribution of _hellers_. These dignitaries were
ordinarily satisfied with tips of twenty, ten, and forty _hellers_ in
the order named. The value of _hellers_ and _centimes_ is so nearly
equal that it was not confusing to pass from the Austrian to the French
system of coinage.
The largest single item of expense was of course the cost of
transportation, which always depends on the size and weight of the car.
The cost of ocean transportation for an ordinary four-seated touring car
would run from one hundred and twenty-five to one hundred and
seventy-five dollars. To this amount must be added fifty dollars to
cover cost of boxing. In our case, since the car was purchased abroad,
it was necessary to pay a duty of thirty per cent on the original cost,
minus the agent's commission of twenty-five per cent.
Transcriber's note:
_Underscores_ have been used to indicate _italic_ fonts.
The Illustration captions were printed without accents. This has
been left as it was in the original.
End of Project Gutenberg's Europe from a Motor Car, by Russell Richardson