We live in a small German village on a dead end road with only a few houses. The road is barely big enough for two cars—that’s cars, not trucks or tractors—to pass. It’s an old asphalt road that’s been patched up here and there over the years. As a road, it does what it’s suppose to do. It serves its function. It’s a road.
I never thought about that until we were recently informed that the road will be replaced with a new cobblestone road. During a community meeting to discuss the new road, it appeared to me that the 20 or so in attendance didn’t particularly like this plan, especially when we found out we would have to pay for it. Each resident will pay based on the size of their property. I found out that we will have to pay at least 6000 euro (that’s about $9000) for a road we don’t want. As I said, the old road serves its function.
To further show how ridiculous this is, one fellow who doesn’t even live on our road has to pay around 22,000 euro. His property includes some farm fields and about 20 feet or so of one of his fields borders the road. I’m wagering his fields are not even worth that much given that they are farmland not for developing.
Okay, this is Germany so it’s going to happen whether we like it or not. But it got me to thinking about something. I will probably retire in a few years, so Monika and I have started looking for a smaller retirement home somewhere in the world. Right now, we’re looking at Bulgaria. We want a place that is secluded, surrounded by nature instead of neighbors. A place located on a dirt road, or even a mountain or forest trail, where we will be the only traffic and the sole decision makers on what happens on that road.
Yes, I want to live on a dirt road and marvel at its simplicity and beauty every time I drive on it.