Adrianmurray's travel blogs:
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Frankfurt - Hot Diggity Dog
Entry 43 of 235 | show all | print this entry |
One doesn`t actually leave the sights and smells of India until one leaves the plane at your destination. It may have been Luftansa, but the toilets were all Air India - for some reason Indian passengers don`t know how to use the flush, so there is always a surprise when you wander in. And then there was the mad scramble to get off the plane. I´ve never really understood that theory after an international flight.
Here in Frankfurt, I immediately feel at home. Customs are friendly, the airport is spotless large and organised, it isn`t 100 degrees in the shade, the train was easy to find and speedy, all the German words that I learned 20 years ago at school were starting to flood back.... I was looking out the window at the passing trees feeling content and comfortable.
That is when I realised I had lost my passport.
I was fumbling through my bags looking for it as I arrived at Frankfurt´s main train station. I jumped out and realised that it must have fallen out of the bag pocket, as the plastic protection slip was there, but the passport wasn´t. Slight panic sets in. I´ll be stuck in expensive Germany for weeks! Back track, back track. It must be somewhere at the Flughafen Bahnhof. I am starting to already drift into a combination German-English speak. Germglish. That´s Airport Train Station.
I ran to my hotel to check-in. Its a small place run by Koreans, who don`t speak a great deal of English, but do know German. Kormen, or is that Gerean? Our combined Germlish-Kormen conversation got me my room key, and I was back on the train to the airport.
Lost and Found a the train station was a rather formal affair. Asking my name, nationality... and then wandering out to get my passport from out the back. Some wonderful local had handed it straight in. I was a lucky man and didn`t mind paying the 4 Euros for the experience.
Phew. What a relief.
Heading back into town, I only now started to realise just how clean everything is here in Frankfurt - the town and the people. After a few months of predominant poverty and people on the edge of survival, meaning that you don´t often see them in their best nick, I feel like I have walked into a nation of the most beautiful people on earth. Frankfurters (the folks not the sausages) dress very well and always look ready to go out. Even the not so good looking people are remarkably attractive.
I am fitting right in from a language perspective, with my Ya´s und Nein´s und Danke´s und Tchuss´s, ordering breads like a local. It is quite a relief to no longer be ´famous´. A tall bald westerner in India translates roughly to celebrity. Here, most people actually think I am German. The only problem with that is that it is hard to distinguish as to who else around the town is a traveller.
Frankfurt is a sleepy town, quite relaxed. It is a mix of modern and refurbished ancient. There are old world German tinges to the architecture, such as Romerplatz, the towns main square with its churches and pubs. A wander across the river Main takes you to old museums and cobblestone streets
I am eating constantly, and I intend to keep it up, as I have a few kilos to catch up on. It is expensive, but not too expensive. The local Frankfurters (the sausages, not the people) served with mustard, potato salad and bread are a sensation. And the Italian influences in the ice cream are very evident. I have nearly tried all of the ice cream shops in the general city area.
I always get a renewed vigour for travelling when I reach a new country, and I certainly feel that with a vengeance here in Germany. Is it the food? Is it the language? Is it because my hotel is right in Frankfurt´s red light district? (wah wah wucka wucka...)
If the German´s aren´t obsessed by sex, then they are certainly overcatering for the minority. There are sex shops everywhere. Although my hotel is run by a friendly Korean family, and is neat, clean and straight out of an IKEA catalog (I know I´m not in Sweden), it is apparent that the family are profiteering from the area. Although they don´t actually run the place as a brothel, it does slide into the category of ´No-Tell Motel´.
A few times I have been in reception as the latest short-term check-in arrives. Usually its an overweight European with a bad moustache, and a eastern European bottle-blonde in a miniskirt teetering on white stilletos. It´s just like Thailand, though I´m yet to here ´Hello sexy man´. For 15 Euros they an have a room for the hour. I feel like I´m getting a bargain at 30 Euros for 24 hours. Actually that makes the place I am staying sound extraordinarily sleazy. It really isn´t - just sometimes.
Heidelberg is only an hour by train from Frankfurt. As another Melbournian pointed out to me, "turn left before Preston...." It is your stereotypical German town, with rolling green hills, river running through the city, arc bridges, cobblestone streets, two-storey plus attic in the roof houses, churches, castle overlooking the town, and a square in the centre. It is straight out the "How To Make A German Town" guidebook.
Just confirming my thoughts on their obsession, conveniently located right next door to St Peterskirche, the main church in Heidelberg, is an enormous Sex Shop. Thus if you wake up on a Sunday morning felling randy for an inflatable sheep, you can have your sinning and repentance wrapped up in time to breathlessly sit down for Sunday brunch with the family.
Heidelberg Schloss (the castle) was first built in the 14th century. with 400 years of additions and reno jobs by the subsequent tenants. Thankfully none made the decision to use vinyl cladding at any stage. Some of it is in ruins, but most is in mint condition. It looks down over the town and through the valley, and contains a huge wine cellar with the world´s biggest wine vat at 220,000 litres. That is a lot of plonk, and it is kept beautifully cool in the stone building downstairs.
Mainz is another near by town. German cities are really not that large. It only takes a few minutes on the train and you are out into the rolling fields, with villages every minute or so flashing past. Mainz is so close to Frankfurt, you actually catch the local Frankfurt public transport to get there.
I am not a churchgoer, but I am spending a lot of time in Churches here in Germany. No, Iäm not seeking forgiveness for sins commited in the shopping establishments next door. They are all simply beautiful, especially so in Mainz at the Martinsdom, so hanging out with the Nuns for a few minutes isn´t a chore. The stained glass windows feature murals of previous Archbishops here during its 1000 year history. The Friar Tuck hairdo was king for around half a millennium. If I allowed a little growing time, I could end up with a new gig....
In addition to sex, Germans love a good chilled midday beer. I like Germany, and have been indulging in the occasional lunchtime cleansing ale. The midday beer does lead to many Germans suffering from too much of a mid afternoon beerbuzz, as people talking to themselves is a common problem here. I´d think that alcoholism is an issue here. Possibly because you are encouraged to drink at morning tea time, and the minimum size is usually a half litre.
The weather is exceptional, so I headed down to the main beach in Mainz. Given the town is in the middle of Germany, going to the beach means heading down to the banks of the Rhein River and lazing on a manmade sand beach, with a roped off area of the river for swimming. Mainz has a great vibe to it. Sommerfest is just about to kick in, though I am a week early for the Mainz Music Festival. That means I will miss out on one of life´s great opportunities - I may never ever have the chance again, anywhere in the world, to see Peter Frampton, Meatloaf and Lisa Stansfield on the one bill. I would have stayed the extra week if Men Without Hats or Wang Chung were also on the list...
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