German Snow Scene

Dominion, Volume 31, Issue 128, 24 February 1938, Page 5

German Snow Scene

A New Zealander’s Impressions Of Europ e

lii The Depths Of Winter

SHE DISCOVERED A LAND OF FAIRY-TALE By Margaret Gowan. (jERMANY- in snow-time is a land of fairy-tale. Mar? garet Gowan, the New Zealand author of this article, found something reminiscent of medieval charm and beauty in the white-clad countryside during a. recent-visit.

left a mild; misty England on Boxing Day, to go to North . Germany. It was flat'calm on the Channel, and the Berlin express into which we hurried in the unreal bustle 'of landing at Hoek-van-Holland at six o’clock'on it dark winter morning, was warm and comfortable. Grey daylight came slowly as the train rolled through the geometrical fields and past' the tidy villages of the Netherlands, and it rained a little but we ran through it and out into.a brilliantly sunny morning in Germany. Sunny, but snow Jay in tlie ditches and on the shady side of the hedges, and we said, “Look, snow,” as we ate our coffee and rolls in the dining car. The train rolled on across the German plains, and we sat in our compartment and felt sleepy. “This is like travelling in a toy train across, a huge flat map of Europe,” I thought, and I remembered drowsily the unfortunate individuals who had tried to teach me geography, long tigo. “As we approach the North of Germany the-winters'become more severe,” I could almost hear .the flat voice and see the pointer travelling northwards across the map. “There is snow in .winter. . .’’ I sttt up and .gazed , out of the window. “You have been asleep,” said Christopher reproachfully. But. I did not answer, for I was looking at the fields, dusted with snow, not very deep, but real snow, recently fallen, .and showing not the slightest disposition to melt again immediately. The lovely blue sky had gone; it was grey and looked so cold that we shivered even in our warm carriage and turned the heating from halfway to full on. Snow. From then until our return ,tb England It seemed to dominate life. It fascinated me, and the; only subject on which I learned to converse at all fluently in German 'was snow and its implications and complications I' When we were finally drawing near to Berlin, we had spent the last hour of daylight looking at a landscape not merely powdered but covered, deep .in snow. Even the soft red of the roofs of the farmhouses was lost beneath it, and it lay on the bare branches of beeches and on the green arms of the pines. Berlin Magic.

All cities are exciting and strange in. the first hours of darkness, and for us, arriving, Berlin had also the magic of. tills deep, newly fallen snow. It was freezing hard. Our hostess met us and we were soon in a warm car, and the chauffeur was tucking a rug round our knees. We drove through the city, its lights falling on white pavements, not yet trodden into slush or swept clear by,the army of workers who would be busy the next morning. Then we were out in the country, and our headlamps shone on mile after mile of white road, and white and black posts defining its limits on either side. Houses have double windows in North Germany; they are. most necessary. The temperature this New Year was round about 5 degrees Fahrenheit. About 25 degrees of frost, to put it another way, which sounds even .colder. But we were warm iu our comfortable modern house, and it was fun to think of the cold and not feel it. The sun shone and out of doors it was a fairyland world. On our first morning 1 looked out of my bedroom window and saw a little army of gardeners beginning to clear away the snow from the drive and the paths. There was at least 18 inches of it, dry and powdery, shining white, almost dazzling iu the clear light. I had seen snow in Switzerland, of course, but there it has the air of having been specially laid down for the benefit of winter-sporting visitors, a sort of stage property; and life.there had consisted solely of skiing, ' not of ordinary everyday comings and goings. I was intrigued to see how “real” life was conducted,-in the snow, so after ■ breakfast we went for a walk, in-fur coats and snow boots. The pavements in the little country town were already trodden hard by the hurrying feet of workers going early to the factories. It was slippery. The children were already out, dozens of them, each with a little sledge; and every slope in Eberswalde had a queue of shouting, laughing small people, waiting their turn for a dash down to the bottom and a long climb' up again. ■ There were some bigger sleds, which carried a team of three or even four, and they were manned by bigger children, and were grand fun. Boys and girls alike wore long trousers, coats or jersey and woolly gloves 'and caps. They all looked'with awe at my big fur gloves, and my hostess told me that fur gloves were-rare in Germany. I was glad I had mine, but I wished I could give a pair each to those, little winter sports ,enthusiasts; I their hands must be cold.. In the . town itself the housewives were out doing- their shopping. The older children were, disposed of, tobogganning on the nearest slope, but the toddler of the family came shopping witli mother, wrapped in a warm rug, over which just' a little red nose and two bright eyes'were visible before a . woolly cap extinguished its wearer finally.' in a pram, do you say? No, that was the excitement of the morning. forme. Not a pram, but. a little sled Mother pulls it along by a stout string. Perfectly charming-and most efficient. In. the market square the fishwives were at (heir stalls, or perhaps tubs is the better word, for ■their wares were still alive, swimming about in large tubs of water ou which the ice was continually forming to be broken up by the fishwife as she wielded a curious weapon like a decrepit tennis racquet, to pick out a good fish to show the “gnadige Frau” who was inspecting with a view to purchase. In the intervals of . custom, they kept their hands in muffs, but they did get a little exercise, wielding a large wooden mallet with which to hit the chosen fish, laid on a bench, neatly on the head before bundling it into the customer’s string bag. I was relieved when I saw this being done; at first I had thought that the fish were carried home alive, and as we were commissioned to liny some carp, I was afraid that were were going to have home a fish which would at-intervals give a convulsive and nerve-shatter-ing leap. it was amazing to me to see the cars ou the roads, driving at what seemed to be normal, speeds, without chains over the tyres, on a surface composed of snow worn down to a bard, icy substance, which must, I thought, be extremely “skid'dy” and dangerous. But my host laughed when I expressed niy surprise, and sai'd that you would not get much value from your car if you refused to use it in snowy weather in winter, and as for danger, it was all a i matter of habit, and drivers were ac-'

customed to slippery roads in winter. Moreover, we were.takbn to Berlin that very day; over roads on which yellow flags' bearing the inscription “Glatteis" appeared every . few hundred yards; and; ill spite of the “slippery ice,” we did a steady forty miles an hour. Com-, ing home late that night it really was fantastically cold; lovely frost patterns of flowers and ferns appeared on the windows of the car, arid it would have been impossible to see out of the windscreen if it had not been equipped, as all ears are, with tiny electric filaments running along between'a double sheet of glass, keeping ■ it- just sufficiently warm all the time to prevent ice forming on-the outside. One result.of heavy snow is to give visitors the impression that the surfaces .of Ger,man roads are extremely .bad, for the snow Is pressed down and freezes very unevenly, and the result is like driving over a road surface of ridges and pot-holes. This, as well as’ the danger, of skidding, makes driving in winter comparatively slow. My admiration for the chauffeurs who drove us on those' slippery roads- is -unbounded. They handled the ears magnificently, and even when the creature’s 1 inclination arid firm intention was to sidestdp and then waltz all over the road and finally land us in the ditch, they could, and did, control it arid make good time for: the journey. in spite of everything. ■ •

Forest Drive. Eberswalde .ue»-. in forest country,' arid one. sunny 4ay we, were asked, whether, we .would like • to go for a' drive in the forest. - Of course, we said yes, and arrayed ourselves .in dur fur coats and. waited' for. the .car to come, round. .Then we stepped into a fairytale; for the carriage- that: drew up at the door was not a. 1937 limousine. It, Was-a sleigh drawn -by ~ two horses! Two maids were, waiting at the front 'door'with 1 fur rugs, ready to tuck us in and wrap ps round so snugly that, only our eyes and noses were visible, and off we went, down the drive and into .the street and through the little town, with a jingling of. bells on the horses’ harness to put the final touch of story-book verisimilitude on the adventure. -In the town people turned to look at us as we passed, arid we were told that very few families still kept horses and a sleigh for winter use, so that we were unusual enough to be remarkable. We were, soon in the woods, bowling along lovely little roads, winding along between the tall trees. Evergreen trees alternated ■ with oaks and beeches, and all were laden with snow,, for it was very still and no breath of wind came to move the white veils of snow from the branches on which they had fallen 'during the night. It was very quiet, the snow-covered world, with only our bells to break the hush, and the muffled sound of the horses’ hooves on the snowy road. It was magic—but it was cold even under our fur rugs! I decided that I should not wish to travel across Russia in a sleigh, quite apart from the inevitable hungry wolves that appeared in all the stories I read of such journeys, for I am sure that one would arrive frozen to death, at any destination more than-ten miles from one’s starting point. However, that may be because I am not used to it! And for ail afternoon’s drive, followed by a mixture of beaten egg and brandy on our return, to warm us within, ■it was entrancing.

And so we saw the New Year come in that snowy land, and then'it was time to go home to England. “Come again,” they said. “Come in the summer, when the garden is lovely.” But we thought the garden was lovely then, with its white lawns and trees shining with frost so that they looked for all the world as if they were laden with blossom.in spring. And I want to come back in winter to see again this snow that is to me such a strange and lovely magic, changing , the world. In England it was damp and mild, and there was-fog next morning. [The author is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. G. S. McNair, Wellington.]