The German tourism folks designed multiple long, meandering routes intended for week-long sojourns through the countryside at a leisurely pace.
The idea is thus, with the 220i, to cling by my fingernails to the dying embers of "old BMW". A three-box shape, a small footprint, modest power, and rear-wheel-drive. This exotic sense of adventure is damaged somewhat by hilariously encountering an advertising banner for a holiday to Singapore , but at this point nothing can break my holiday spirit.
Regardless, it is a beautiful place, as tends to be royal residences built as summer palaces. My wife and I spend a peaceful morning wandering around the sprawling garden grounds and ignoring the audio guide. I did not experience a single instance of aggression for aggression's sake. Space is always left for merging, and turn signals graciously respected. One never feels, as one does in Italy, that one might receive an angry faceful of ravioli from the gesturing passing uncle who had spent the last two minutes mere centimetres from your rear bumper in a Fiat killer Panda.
The leafless trees starkly dig into the pastel sky like witches' claws. Further afield, the Alps begin to reveal themselves, drawing a craggy line across a turquoise canvas. They are very tight, and one may think of them as an extended and far more picturesque South Buona Vista Road. Cracking my knuckles, I attack.Hmmm. The sensations through my palms and back are surprisingly muted. No doubt the car navigates its way around alright. BMW's chassis tune is well judged.
As far as the powertrain goes, the four-cylinder motor had been a peach all the way to this point, what with its low-end turbocharged oomph and pleasing synthesized thrum. It does its best work between 2000-4000rpm. The nagging thought nevertheless surfaces that on roads this severely knotted, a Porsche 718 would feel meaningfully more scintillating and a Mazda MX-5 more effervescent.
It is now 1pm, and the sun is at maximum radiance. Clouds are but wisps. This time, on the straight blast to the lakeside town of Chiemsee, there is neither darkness nor fog. No mystery nor mystique. Only golden sunshine, green grassland, orange-hued flora, and crystal blue skies. One can see for miles. I grin involuntarily.
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