Round and Round It Goes

My Trip to Germany: Frankfurt

Frankfurt – Later…

Turns out J wasn’t terribly cranky about the train ride, but hers was much more eventful than mine. The woman and two small children moved into our compartment, and then quickly settled down. Mostly J had to listen to one guy who was a Vegas ticket broker making deals in his East coast accent on his cell phone.

The little girl formerly known as screeching toddler quickly went to sleep, but the little boy had to go to the bathroom all the time, so finally his mom just stuck his weiner in a bottle and let him pee. Other than that feat of motherly care, she spent the rest of the trip filing her nails and answering her cell, which chimed to the tune of the “Knight Rider” theme, our first official Hasselhoff reference. Right on.

Frankfurt…had to pay 70 cents to pee in the train station, and got a bit turned around looking for our hotel, but we’re here. The Fan Fest is a stone’s throw from the hotel (as is the city center) along the main River (yes, that’s its name, the Main). They’ve got a ginormous double-sided screen set up in the middle of the river, but by the time we got there, that section of the Fest was full-up. Sucks to be us.


Walking through the city center (© hermitthecrab 2006)

The city is full of Brazil and France supporters, all singing and waving flags (starting to get repetitive? Don’t worry, it will…), and a smattering of Spanish fans cheering for Brazil to knock off the team that knocked them off.

The first game of the day was England vs. Portugal, and we walked a long mile in the heat to find some sort of vantage point. We found a miniscule bush that afforded a 70% view and called it good.


Our crappy view (© hermitthecrab 2006)

Of course, we didn’t really account for the large, half-naked family of Brazilians who leeched onto our space, not even watching the game. They stood in front of us, posed for family pics in front of us, and in general made our little viewing spot fairly miserable.

It only added to our discomfort to stand through yet another overtime game as Rooney got red-carded around the 60th minute for squishing a guy’s nuts. Beckham got subbed, and they continued to show him with his face all crumpled, which prompted J to offer the quote of the day: “Is he crying? Is he crying because they subbed him, or did they sub him because he’s crying?”

England took it to PKs with 10 men, where they completely dropped the ball. Portugal missed two, but England’s performance from the spot was so atrocious that Ricardo saved three. Game over. :(

An impromptu game started up near us, something like 11 Brazilians & Spaniards vs. 4 Frenchmen. They had a good time with a flat ball, continuing to smoke and drink all the while. A guy dressed up as a referee in a mockery of the WC refs officiated at the little game, throwing at least one red card and calling a couple goals before running off to blow his little whistle elsewhere.


That's 18 red cards and 568 yellows!!! (© hermitthecrab 2006)

After the game, we headed to eat and catch the Brazil-France game. We found a yummy place with an awesome waiter, who recommended Dömerfleisch mit Jogurten und Tomaten, which was sliced beef over French bread, smothered with a tomato sauce and yogurt. It. Was. Awesome.

We thought we had great seats until five minutes before the game when two Brazilian fans and their girlfriends rearranged the tables so they sat right in front of everyone at the restaurant. At this point, I decided to cheer for France because I was so sick of Brazilians and their nakedness and big hair. Plus, I really like saying Ribery’s name.

A fabulous Moroccan, Brian, joined us at our table, and we all commiserated at the terrible view afforded by the Brazilians (dubbed Yellow Man and White Man for the color of their shirts – hey, I can’t be creative all the time). Our revenge on Yellow and White Man, and on the previous rude family, was taken when Henry tapped in a goal all alone off a set piece around the 55th minute. Brian kept belting out “It’s over!” which made me say numerous prayers to the Gods of the Jynx.


Brian, me, and J (J's pic)

A crowd of people gathered around to watch the game die, and we worried a bit that people couldn’t see through US.

J commented, “At least I’ve got short going for me. I’m easy to see over.”

“And you don’t have big hair,” I said, looking pointedly at White Man’s girlfriend.

“Yes!” replied the girl at the next table in an Amen!-tone, as she’d had to watch the gamed through the girlfriend’s hair, and had even asked her to move her big hair.


The gathering crowd...none of whom could see through the big hair (© hermitthecrab 2006)

The game ended, and France had bounced out the big boys 1-0. The streets were filled with cries of “Allez, Les Bleus!” The expressions on Yellow & White Man’s faces were priceless. Not only had they lost, but they were surrounded by people cheering the loss. I’m sure a great deal of that cheering (well, at least on my part) was aimed at them, as their disrespect for everyone at the restaurant had earned them a great deal of ire.

So, on to the semis. Germany vs. Italy and France vs. Portugal. Go Germany, go France!

Frankfurt – July 2, 2006

We kind of saw the sights today as we stumbled upon them; Frankfurt really isn’t very big. Here’s kind of a running list of the day:

• Kaiserdom, where Holy roman Emperors were crowned from the 16th to 18th century, built between the 13th and 15th centuries (it took a long time to build crap back then), largely unharmed by WW2. Until the skyscraper age, its ~300’ tower was the tallest structure in Frankfurt, and the ruins of a Roman settlement rest below it.
  
  
  (© hermitthecrab 2006)
  
  
• Römerberg:
  
  Nikolaikirche, built in late 1200s to be the court chapel for the holy roman emperors.
  
  (© hermitthecrab 2006)
  
  Half-timber Ostzeile houses, restored after WW2 bomb damage.
  
  (© hermitthecrab 2006)
  
  Fountain of Justina (Justice), built in 16th century, where at the coronation of Emperor Matthias in 1612, wine flowed instead of water.
  
  (J's pic)
  
  
• Paulskirche, where the first all-German parliament was held in 1848.
  
  (© hermitthecrab 2006)
  
  
• Katharinenkirche, the first independent Protestant church in Gothic style, built between 1678-81. Goethe was confirmed here.
  
  
• Downtown Frankfurt, where Ballack is king.
  
  (J's pic)
  
  
• Goethehaus, where Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (author of "Faust") was born in 1749 (restored after WW2 bombing destroyed it).
  
  (J's pic)
  
  (© hermitthecrab 2006)
  
  (© hermitthecrab 2006)
  
  
• Some statue in Goetheplatz. Never figured out its significance, but it was a nice fountain.
  
  (© hermitthecrab 2006)
  
  
• A good example of old architecture meshed with new.
  
  (J's pic)
  
  
• Alte Oper (Old Opera House): Kaiser Wilhelm I traveled for its opening in 1880. For 40 years after a WW2 sacking, it was a hollow shell. Nice outside, but we couldn’t go inside as our guidebook suggested (stupid Sundays – everything in this god-freaked country is closed).
  
  (© hermitthecrab 2006)
  
  
• Eschenheimer Turm, early 15th century, one of the city’s original 42 towers.

At this point, we headed to the river and decided we were hungry, so stopped for a pizza. Jane needed a nap, so she hit the sheets at the hotel and I crossed the Main River into Sachsenhausen.

• Evangelisch-lutherisch Droikkonigskirche: Don’t really know the history of this church placed along the river, but it was all pretty and stuff. Plus, this is one of my favorite shots of all the millions of churches on the trip.
  
  (© hermitthecrab 2006)
  
  
• Sachsenhausen itself is on the south bank of the Main, an old quarter fill of nicely preserved cobblestone streets, half-timber houses, and beer gardens. It’s famous for Apfelwein (apple wine) taverns, so we plan to hit those tonight for dinner.

(© hermitthecrab 2006)

I headed back toward the hotel along the river, getting some nice city shots [B&W – to come later]:

• Kuhhirtenturm, the last of nine towers built in the 15th century as part of Sachenhausen’s fortifications
  
• Alte Brücke (bridge)
  
• Main
  
• Fan Fest
  
• city skyline
  
• city Center
  
• Eiserner Stag, the first suspension bridge in Europe. Stopping to take my umpteen pictures, I could feel the bridge sway and bob beneath my feet.
  
• Historisches Museum, and some people shots
  
• I did the best I could with the Römer (the City Hall buildings), but they face East, directly into the morning sun. The Römer is either completely front lit or completely back lit, either way totally flat. Ugh. No wonder all the postcards of it are so ugly.
  
• Paulskirche towering over the tourists

Though Frankfurt is much smaller than Berlin, and I’m sure has fewer tourists, it seems a lot more crowded. The Fan Fest is a much smaller area, and split up into sections along the river, so it’s harder to get into and way more packed inside. Plus, it seems like everyone is condensed into a much smaller area, the Fan Fest, Römerberg, and Zeil (the shopping strip) – once you get away from these areas, it’s pretty empty.

Tomorrow, since we have little interest in being cooped up in museums, we plan to make a side trip to Bad Homberg, mostly because we think the name is funny, where there is a fort and some other junk.

Frankfurt – Later…

Popped out for dinner in Sachsenhausen at the Sum Adolf Wagner for Apfelweis, some Schnitzel for J and Tufelspritz (steak) for me. Yummy potatoes, but the apple wine wasn’t as flavorful as we’d hoped. The strudel also wasn’t as good as we’d had in Berlin, though it was made with apple wine. The atmosphere was good, though (Fodor’s called it “Sachsenhausen smaltzy to the point of corny” but we liked it. I didn’t see corn anywhere).

The tavern offers souvenir pitchers (bembels) and mugs, but I went the cheap route and just stole a coaster. Hey, it’s good enough for me.

And since this is the very last page in my journal (folks reading online – yes, I have edited, and it’s still a novel), including three pages stolen from J’s journal, I was doubly lucky that some shops opened for about five minutes on our way out to eat. We dropped into Woolworth’s (yup, Woolworth’s) to grab a new notebook. We looked for some hydrocortisone cream for the lumpies on my head (spider bites? I don’t know, you can’t see them, but they itch and burn and hurt – worse in the sun – and they’re driving me batty). Couldn’t find any, though, so whatever further dermatological ailments may befall me, I’ll just have to suffer.

And now I really wish I’d give in to temptation, because Woolworth’s was closed on the way back, and I. Need. A. Candy. Fix!!!

Frankfurt – July 3, 2006

It turned out the Apfelweis last night was not such a good idea; it gave both J and me a bad night of dreams. I don’t remember what mine were about, I just remember an overwhelming sadness, knowing it was a dream and that I needed to wake up, but being unable to do so.

P called at 12:30 a.m. (as soon as he got back to ABQ from his Australia trip), scaring the bejesus out of sleeping me. J found it highly amusing to watch me flounder around like a frightened cat on roller skates.

On to Bad Homberg this morning, a Fodor’s recommended side trip. We first crossed pedestrian bridge, where we ran into a nice man named Sonny. He heard us speaking English, and thought he’d say hi.

Side note: J and I started writing in our journals at the same time, and she just finished, slamming her notebook shut. I looked over in surprise, considering my “day” had hardly started, and described what I’ve written so far.

She grinned and quoted her first line, her equivalent to my first page: “We decided to go to Bad Homberg, partially because we weren’t interested in Frankfurt museums, and partly because the name is funny.”

And that, my friends, is the difference between writers & engineers.

We walked through town a bit while we waited for the next hourly bus to Saalburg (the main attraction):

• Old-fashioned telephone booth outside the tourist center. I made J pose, which made her rather embarrassed – “What IS a Superman pose???”
  
• Gnomes!!!
  
  (J's pic)
  
  
• St. Marien’s Cathedral
  
• Erloserkirche
  
• Schloss, a 17th century palace where the Kaiser stayed when in residence. Somewhat jarring is a 172’ castle tower, the Weisser Turm, rising from the central courtyard, all that remains of a medieval castle. We were a bit disappointed to find the Schloss was closed (the house, not the grounds) on Mondays. It’s becoming a recurring theme.

After lunch we made it out to Saalburg, where we’d wandered around for a good ten minutes before J got frustrated and bought a guidebook.

“Turns out it’s a ROMAN fort,” she said.

“I know.”

“I didn’t.”

Um, didn’t you read the guidebook? I was a little flabbergasted.

At my bewildered (I thought) and apparently smarmy (she thought) look, she said, “I didn’t know the Romans were in Germany.”

I must have winced, and I tried to stay neutral, I really did, but I was reminded of how my mom’s employees though the Pony Express was a band, and The Revolutionary War was between the Americans and the French. “Sure,” I replied. “The Germanic Wars were pretty huge, weakened the Roman army, and conquering Germany contributed a little to Rome’s downfall.”

More blank look from her. I sighed.

“The opening scene in Gladiator is a battle with the Germanic tribes.”

“Oh,” she said, the light stuttering on.

It was conversations like this that earned me the dubious title of “Know-It-All” for the rest of the trip. Or as J was fond of saying, I did an excellent job of making her feel like an idiot. :(

Anyway…Saalburg was interesting in that it was a neat look at what a Roman fort might have looked like, and the museum had some really cool artifacts like shoes, glass window panes, and some glass jugs we were pretty sure were bongs.


The road to Saalburg (J's pic006)

The disappointing aspect was that it was all a reconstruction, complete with life-size cutouts of Roman soldiers. Yes, there had been a fort there, but it was in ruins. The fort was built in 120 A.D. as part of the Limes Wall along the Danube River, but fell apart after the Romans left. Kaiser Wilhelm II decided to recreate it “in honor of his parents.”

So it doesn’t feel as real as a visit to Chaco Canyon, for instance. The Saalburg guidebook was extremely insisten that the fort was as “Close to the real thing as possible! Reconstructed using pictures of other real forts!”


Me at the Limes at Saalburg (J's pic)

We made it back to Frankfurt after a long hot walk from bus stop to U-bahn, a long hot train ride on the U, a long hot walk to find J a bembel and no post office from which to mail it home. By the time we got back to the hotel, I was in bad shape. I was so hot the ringing in my ears was nearly a scream, and I looked like I’d been sunburned all over.

I read a bit and took a short nap while J went to find a post office. She earned my hero of the day award by coming back with bags of Twix and gummy bears, and a Toblerone. Don’t ever let anyone tell you you can’t have too much sugar.

It revived me enough for dinner at the 12 Apostles, a microbrewery. We got a bit lost on our way and a taxi driver (kinda hot, too) directed us straight to the restaurant. The only place taxi drivers seem to speak English is in Germany.


The 12 Apostles Microbrewery (J's pic)

After dinner we made a list of stops: ATM, drugstore, ice cream. Next to the Deutsche Bank we discovered a 1Є store, and couldn’t resist the hilarity. I looked for something for Laura, but couldn’t waste a whole Euro on a plastic votive, porcelain frog, or cheap paper goods, though I know how she loves the $ store.


The dollar store! (J's pic)

The pharmacist in the Apotheke was such a nice little man, and got me my hydrocortisone cream right away, telling me it was the correct medicine for the lumps on my head, which have expanded both in size and number. They’re now angry red welts on my scalp, itching me to distraction. If they don’t go away and my doctor has to shave my head, I will be very pissed off. I’m tempted to pony up the money to call and cry to my mother.

Grabbed some ice cream and headed back to the hotel, where we had an interesting conversation with our clerk. A bit was about how South Africa may not be up to snuff for the 2010 Cup (!), how much improvement Germany had to make for this WC, and how it will help the economy, etc.

Then he offered an interesting observation on the remaining differences between East and West Germany. Seems East Germans see West Germans much as a lot of the world sees America: they’re all rich millionaires and you should take them for all you can get. The economy, and it seems the culture, in East Germany has not caught up with the West, and the older generation’s attitude that West Germany owes them something (and can afford it) is being prevailed upon the younger generation. When they move west, they have no work ethic, and wait for their golden chariot to arrive (at least in the opinion of our hotel clerk).

It’s late now and time to rest for a long day tomorrow. Hopefully my poxed head will let me sleep. :/

Note: We decided that most of the German we learned (well, that I learned) is not terribly useful – buying train tickets, getting rooms, etc. Tickets are automated, and hotel clerks speak English (we have reservations anyway). What would have been useful was German food, so we wouldn’t have to walk into every restaurant and nearly cry because we have no idea what to order (Berlin had English translations, but here there’s less of that). We could be ordering skewered fish liver for all we know, but it’s worked out so far.

Go to next entry: Dortmund

posted by Lyle Skains @ 11:26 AM