On my way back to Poland, my plane had a seven hour layover in Frankfurt. I didn't really book the ticket to have such a long layover on purpose, but when I realized I had so much time on my hands, I decided to hop on one of the subway trains from the airport and go and see what there was to see. Luckily, the city center is not far at all from the airport, and about four train stops later I was walking the streets of Frankfurt.
Frankfurt's an interesting city. The traditional, restored buildings and
churches from as far back as the middle ages are nestled among giant
skyscrapers and modern, 21st century architecture without appearing like
there was any deliberate plan in building all of it. It reminded me of a
little kid building a city with two different sets of building blocks.
I
really wasn't in Frankfurt for very long, but that was my first
impression. I saw the Römeberg, Frankfurt's Old Town square with it's
cobbled square and timber houses, peeked into the giant old gothic
church near the town center, and took a walk to Palmengarten, the
largest garden/greenhouse complex in the country. I spent a little time
enjoying the greenhouses there, which were a lovely and refreshing
source of green in the middle of the winter.
I decided to start back on the train for the airport a few hours before I had to catch my next flight. Unfortunately, it was right about this time that the nine-hour plane ride from Chicago and all the jet lag started to catch up with me. I got to the subway, quickly squinted at the German names to determine which train would take me back to the airport, hopped on the next train I saw, and proceeded to space out for the next five stops. At the sixth stop, I finally realized I was headed in the wrong direction. I sighed to myself, grateful I had allotted plenty of time to get back to the airport, and switched trains at the next stop. Problem solved right? Wrong. While I was spacing out in the other direction, I managed to mix up the names of the stops for the central train station and the airport and got off the subway at the train station, which was three stops too early. After wandering around baffled for about ten minutes, I realized my (second) mistake and headed back to the subway, with a major sense of deja vu. I then got on another train. In the wrong direction. Twenty-five minutes later I turned myself around and (finally) made it to the airport with time to spare (and get a much needed cup of coffee), but if there's a lesson to be learned here it's make sure to give yourself plenty of time to get to the airport. Particularly if you're sleep deprived, directionally challenged, and in a foreign country where subway stops have names like Vogelweidstra
ße and Bludspendedienst.
