Stuttgart to Baden-Baden

We are up at dawn, after all, it’s Christmas. 

The hotel serves a beautiful breakfast buffet and we’re seated at a table in a corner window on an upper floor offering abundant views of Stuttgart; but we rush because we must be on the 7:48 train for a ten-minute ride to the Porsche Platz. Our appointment is at 8:15, but what if there’s a long ticket line, or the train is late (in Germany??), or, or, or. So we gulp and go.

Upon arrival, (we’re early) we are treated to a five-hour five star experience. We show our golden ticket at the check-in booth. An escort arrives and takes us to a lounge area where we are offered food and drink while we wait for our appointed time. At precisely 8:15 Ronny appears with paperwork and chit chat. He is perfect: affable, well informed, and supremely interested in only us. He ushers us into the “delivery concourse” and we meet the car. It’s parked along with the others, which will be matched with owners today, in a shiny row, (they deliver 20 a day this way). He spends an hour with us, (Brez), going over every detail, demonstrating features, pointing out updates, and making certain the car and owner are thoroughly introduced. During this process a photographer appears and takes a picture of us with the car. Just before we leave, the photograph is presented to us in a folder along with a color sketch of the car above a pewter plaque inscribed with the vehicle VIN, the horsepower (315), the date of delivery and the car type, (Boxster S). Nice touch.

Finishing Touches

Brez revs up his new baby and we purr out of the concourse directly to a parking lot where the car, now officially ours, will wait for us.

Next, we take a ninety-minute factory tour with 7 others who are picking up cars this morning, two couples from San Francisco, one from Canada and a guy from the Middle East. We have to relinquish our cell phones before we enter, no photos allowed. We are glad we have the Dominique’s IPhone to toss (gently) into the basket. Our hometown burners would have been mildly embarrassing.

The original brick building used in the 1930's when the company started is still part of the Porsche campus.

The factory is really something to see. It’s clean, quiet and brilliantly organized. The parts are delivered “just in time and just in sequence”.  That means only the parts for the specific cars that are to be built on a particular day are on the truck.

Small carts buzz along, seemingly on their own, but they are following an embedded electronic track and they are programmed to arrive at specific stations bearing needed parts. If you happen to step in front of one, it will stop politely and wait for you to get the heck out of the way.

The engines are assembled at 72 stations. Only 5 of the steps are automated; for example, a robot tightens screws. The complete car takes another 180 stations and only one of those is automated, (a robot glues and places the windshields). The entire car takes 40 hours to build.  Each car is barcoded with precise information on which features, colors and details it will receive.

They have what is known as Porsche "sounds" and they are engineered into the cars very carefully. The engine has a particular sound, of course, but so do the doors when they close. 

The leather for the car interior comes from Austrian cows…five cowhides per car. They do not use barbed wire in Austria and most cows there are stabled, therefore fewer bug bites. Any unused leather is sold to make belts and other accessories. (with a smile, our guide said they do NOT sell the left overs to Mercedes Benz).

The factory runs a double shift, from 6AM to 9PM.  They don’t work during the night because they’ve found the quality suffers. I ask why everyone on the factory floor is dressed alike, (gray t-shirts and dark gray coveralls), the answer is: the company provides the garments, washes them at the end of every day and returns them at the start of each shift. The employees change when they arrive and when they depart. They can wear their own clothes if they wish, but why bother? Although, we’re told, at World Cup time there are an abundance of team and country shirts sported.

The assembly process is fascinating. Jim could have stayed all day.

Lunch is served in an elegant dining room, all done up in white tablecloths, fresh flowers and lots of silverware, (now what exactly is the extra knife near the dessert spoon meant for….oh yes, the cheese course).  We opt out of the offered cocktail and the wine; we’ll be driving for heavens sake. Aperitif is aspic something or other, first course is smoked salmon and avocado, then comes veal with noodles in a cream sauce and finally cheese and figs (for me) and ice cream and raspberries (for Jim). Thanks, Porsche.

Executive Dining Room, Top Floor

Last stop: the gift shop. I feel empowered to purchase anything at all. But, there’s really nothing I need with Porsche emblazoned on it. Jim buys a hat, a necessity.

And then we are off. The clouds part, the sun breaks through, the top goes down, (it can go up and down while driving under 30 MPH, that’s new), and Paul Simon starts to sing.

Brez dubs this one of the best days of his life.

Baden-Baden is only one hour away, (bummer). Lots more driving to come.