We trudged across the wet field and through the rain, paid our €2.50 per adult and went into the inner yard of a farm. There were row after row of old, lovingly painted tractors, some even decorated with flowers and flags! This made my heart jump with glee. Our tractors are rusty, jerry-rigged, misused, abused workhorses, these were well cared for, polished, slickly painted pieces of history. Some were even kind of pretty. They looked cheerful. Ours look sad. As crazy as it sounds, these tractors made me smile on this gray wet day. Have a look for yourself:
If I had a field, I'd want to drive the Aktivist in the rain...
...and the red, very aesthetic Porsche in the sun!
Note the flowers and East German pride!
Even pennants were present.
And...a rubber head? But why? When I asked this question, the answer I got was "Well, just because."
Like I said, I never saw myself attending anything like this back in that other world where we used to live, not in my wildest dreams. I have to admit, though, it was actually kind of fun. And I didn't even get to drive a tractor like the kids did.