The Grand Tour/Road Trip Mashup, Blue Car Style

Artist’s depiction of Bertha Benz on her August 1888 road trip. Source: Mercedes-Benz.com

I love the Blue Car but in my secret life I am in a 356 Cabriolet with an Audrey Hepburn scarf around my hair, Chanel sunglasses perched on my nose, and Cary Grant in the seat beside me. We are cruising the French Riviera.

A girl can dream.

As I fantasize about cruising the Mediterranean Coast, I wonder about the origins of the European road trip. My decision to use Michelin maps instead of GPS for my upcoming travels led me down a rabbit hole of research two months ago when I wrote about Bibendum, the Michelin Man. Starting with a focus on France, and then spreading throughout Western Europe in the very early 1900s, the Michelin Guide and Maps made travel easier and less fraught with worries about where to find gas, reputable places to stay, and local attractions.

But there was a different kind of journey in Europe that predated the automobile. In the days when horses and carriages were used to explore the continent, the “European Grand Tour” was the pinnacle of travel. From the 1600’s to the mid 1800’s, wealthy aristocratic young men, mostly from England but also from other European countries and even the Americas, would embark on a predetermined route through Italy, Greece, Turkey, and other countries for months and sometimes years. Accompanied by a tutor or learned mentor, these wealthy young men would study classical literature, art, and architecture. Their days were spent examining scientific discoveries, viewing paintings, listening to music, and visiting archaeological sites.

It was a privilege afforded only a few and the tradition of long and costly trips for the upper class began to wane in the early days of the industrial revolution as travel became easier and more affordable. With the advent of the railroad, those of lesser status and for the first time, young women, began to embark on shorter and less-costly tours through Europe. The industrial age also shifted interest from the classical to the modern, to new worlds of technology, industry, and science.

Then, the automobile was invented, and a different kind of travel experience was born. One in which each traveler could make his or her own decisions and routes, irrespective of railroad schedules and traditional expectations.

The very first road trip by automobile? In 1888, Bertha Benz completed what is the world’s first recorded long-distance automobile road trip. For over a decade, even before her marriage to Carl Benz, Bertha kept the firm of Benz & Company Rheinische Gasmotoren-Fabrik (Benz & Cie) financially afloat and worked side by side with her husband to develop the first working model of a two-stroke engine. By 1885, they had the very first working horseless carriage: the Model I Patent-Motorwagen. But Carl Benz was not a good businessman, and he was an even worse marketer. Faced with competition by Daimler and her husband’s flagging confidence in the Benz’ invention, Bertha took matters into her own hands.

On an August day, 137 years ago, using the excuse of visiting her mother, Bertha set out from her home before dawn, while her husband was still sleeping. She took their Patent-Motorwagen and their two sons (ages 13 and 15) with her. She needed their help pushing the automobile far enough away from the Benz home so her husband wouldn’t wake up when she started the engine. She left a note for Carl (I can imagine his surprise when he woke up that morning). Bertha then drove from Mannheim to Pforzheim, about 66 miles, on a trip meant to publicize the Benz’ invention and just as importantly, give her husband the boost of confidence he needed to keep going with the company.

Bertha broke many laws by making that trip and she had no benefit of Michelin Maps (where is the Michelin Man when you need him most?). During her full day trip to Pforzheim, Bertha ran into a slew of problems, but she had significant technical capabilities and had worked side by side with her husband at Benz & Cie for years. Here’s a summary of what she faced that day, taken from Wikipedia and the Mercedes-Benz website:

With no fuel tank, she had to find ligroin, the petroleum solvent needed to run the car, to replace the 4.5-litre supply that was in the carburetor when she started out. She stopped at apothecary shops along the way to refuel. She cleaned a blocked fuel line with her hat pin and used her garter as insulation material. When the wooden brakes began to fail, she visited a cobbler to install leather, making the world's first pair of brake linings. Water had to be found at every stop to cool the engine by evaporative action, and her sons pushed the vehicle up steep roads when the two-gears weren’t sufficient to make the climbs. In addition to the mechanical problems she dealt with along the way, she traveled in a three-wheeled vehicle over horse carriage roads meant for four-wheeled carts, and with few signposts. Bertha reached Pforzheim more than twelve hours later, and sent Carl a telegram notifying him of her successful journey.

While Bertha was out and about making history, did Carl spend the day railing against his wife and pacing the floor? Sipping coffee and reading the paper? Working in the factory but pining for his wife to be beside him? Using the unexpected time to meet his mistress? (This is pure conjecture and literary license to stretch the truth on my part and no slander is intended). The scenarios running through my head are entertaining.

Bertha’s trip received much publicity, and she recorded the challenges she faced along the way, using the information to make suggestions for improvements, including adding an additional gear for hills and installing brake linings to improve braking function. Her trip was the world’s first test drive.

Bertha had gumption. And she did it all in long skirts and a corset that made it near impossible to breathe or move, in a time when swearing aloud would not have been an option.

Bertha puts me to shame. I carry a tool kit and some extra parts in the space behind the driver’s seat in the Blue Car but I can’t fix the car. These parts and tools are mostly for someone else to do the repairs. Oh, I often know what is wrong when there is a mechanical problem, and I can change a flat tire in about 25 minutes (after two flats on the U.S. Road trip it’s become a badge of honor for me to be quick about it, always trying to break my previous record), but that’s the extent of my usefulness. After reading about Bertha’s troubles along the way during that first long-distance road trip, I will think twice before complaining ever again about the Blue Car’s lack of air conditioning.

What a different kind of experience this first long-distance road trip was from the Grand Tour! I wonder if it is possible to have anything approaching these two types of journeys today?

I love the idea of learning while traveling. My road trip won’t be the considered slow immersion of the Grand Tour, but then, much of what these aristocrats saw and learned during their travels is available to me in some form or another through the internet. Even so, it does mean taking time to do some research before I go and then reading along the way, delving into history, culture, science, and art. It means visiting museums, taking walking tours, and maybe a class or workshop in language, cooking, wine, or photography. But mostly I think learning means trying to leave preconceived notions behind and being open to new experiences without judgement, while leaving sufficient time to process and reflect.

I also love Bertha’s adventure, which seems such an appropriate start to the road tripping tradition we know today. Road trips are about being able to go anywhere, to make a personal itinerary, to meet nature head-on, to come face-to-face with the unknown and unexplored. My time in the Blue Car is about flexibility and mobility. It’s about spontaneity. Road trips are so very different from traveling in Grand Tour mode.

With four or five months, I will try to have both types of experiences, like a weaving where the stationary warp yarns held tight on the loom represent the Grand Tour foundation of the trip: keep an open mind, soak everything in, read and look and listen. The weft yarns are the constant movement through this. They represent the very best spirit of the Blue Car (and Bertha) – adventure, back roads, serendipity, and spontaneity.

I have the Bertha Benz Memorial Route penciled in on my road trip itinerary. Designated and marked in 2008, It might be fun to drive her original route from Mannheim via Heidelberg to Pforzheim at the gateway to the Black Forest, and back again, imagining what it must have been like for her on that day in August so very long ago (Did her sons fight constantly? Need to pee all the time? Repeat over and over, “Are we there yet?”). I am also quite sure I will get to the French Riviera on this trip of mine. I don’t have a 356 Cabriolet but the Blue Car will do just fine. And I think I can manage the Audrey Hepburn scarf and sunglasses. The seat beside me? I think I’ll just keep an open mind.