Steven is ready to head home so we decided that we would try for the weekly BWI rotator flight on Tuesday out of Ramstein AFB. We’re to check out of the Moxy in Lausanne, Switzerland on Saturday, Oct. 15, and I really didn’t want to spend the entire weekend in Ramstein waiting for the flight on Tuesday so we decided – rather I decided – that we would head to Frankfurt, Germany for the weekend. It was just a mere six hours from Lausanne and only two from Ramstein so it was close enough to make it for the flight on Tuesday. I booked us into a four-star hotel, The Metropolitan, 350meters from the train station to stay until Monday morning. We could check out Monday, make the short two-hour or so train ride to Ramstein, stay the night, and then catch the flight on Tuesday morning.

At least that’s the plan.

We leave Lausanne on Saturday morning and hop the train(s) to Frankfurt. The first part of the journey we managed to get an entire first-class cabin to ourselves. Very nice and quiet! We make it in right before lunchtime and headed to the hotel to see if we could drop our luggage off until check-in time so we could start exploring.

Outside the train station is nasty. There’s trash, and graffiti everywhere, construction and detours, and it stinks like urine. I should have realized that the area surrounding the train station would have been a not-so-pleasant area, after seeing it in Italy. It’s going to be like that in all major cities.

We hurry across the road and see the hotel… right next to a pub we notice. That’s really convenient.

The hotel has great news for us… our room is ready, so we’ll be able to leave our luggage in the room. I open the door and think OMG! What a beautiful room… and it was a humongous TUB! I am definitely soaking tonight!

After refreshing, we head out… right into the less savory parts of Frankfurt. We see drug deals taking place on the street, folks either drunk or stoned, and lots of immigrants just hanging on the streets watching people as they go by. We start walking in a direction that takes us away from the train station. After half an hour or so, we start hearing folks yelling. We can’t understand them but the voices are getting louder and we start seeing a huge police presence. We were looking for food, but I have to head towards the noise, just because I’m nosey. I see a huge crowd chanting in the street and quickly head toward them, leaving Steven to follow. At first, I’m not sure what was going on but I soon realize the local Iranian community is protesting the death of the young Iranian girl who was killed for not wearing her hajib correctly. It looks like a few hundred folks are marching, carrying banners with her name, picture, and other banners stating they are tired of the oppression. Its women, men, children, young and old, marching together in solidarity. I went Facebook live and shared the scene on my Facebook page. It was incredible. I was especially surprised to see men marching in support of the women, which tells me probably few Iranian men are for the overly oppressive nature of Iran’s moral rules.

After a half hour or so of following and watching, hunger strikes me, and I want to find food. We’re searching for a real German restaurant, and not one of the several varieties of ethnic or American food establishments we find during our walk.

Eventually, we found ourselves at Romerberg Square, with several German restaurants and shopping stalls around. All the German tables are fairly close together and large, so you end up sharing a table normally if you don’t have a big group. We sat at one end of a table and another group of young friends took the other. Steven and I have no idea what to order. The waiter speaks great English and tells us what the special for the evening is but I’m not understanding him. I pointed at the table next to us and said, “I’ll have what he’s eating!”

The waiter asks for our drink order and the look on his face when I asked for coke was priceless. “Not biere?” he asked in disbelief. Thankfully, Steven represented us well!

Turns out, that was the special for the night… Geschnetzeltes. Can’t say it but it was pretty tasty. Looked like chicken fried steak, except it was veal and German noodles, or Spaetzle with a creamy mushroom sauce and a salad with an awesome yellowish dressing. A great meal!

As we were finishing up we heard more yelling and another protest was being held in the middle of the square. This time it was Germans protesting the high gas prices and the state of their economy. Who could have guessed I’d be a witness to two different protests in one day. Frankfurt definitely seems like an adventure!

I do a little shopping, we walk around and I take lots of pictures. It’s only about 6pm but we’re already tired… traveling and walking takes a lot out of you, so I input the hotel’s address into Google because we have no idea where we are in Frankfurt. Turns out we’re about a mile and a half away from the train station, so we start following the little dots on the screen back toward the hotel.

Google takes me thru the Red Light district! O.M.G! There are sex shops/inns up and down this street and men hanging outside on the street. Not a comfortable walk through this neighborhood at all! More drug dealers, homeless people, and guys in drag. The pub next to the hotel is completely packed, with tables in the street with men in black and white garb standing around, drinking, being loud, and having a great time. Apparently, it was their local soccer team playing. Everyone is having a good time and enjoying themselves… What a way to end the evening!

We make it back to the hotel and as we’ve done in days past, promptly fall asleep, soaking in the tub completely forgotten!

Waking up refreshed the next day, we head down to breakfast. The variety of a European breakfast is amazing. There are meats, vegetables, cheeses, bread, fruit, yogurts, fresh grains and cereals (not in a box!), eggs, juices, coffee, and espressos… so much to choose from. After we’ve eaten our fill, Steven tells me he’s not feeling too well and decides to stay at the hotel while I go exploring.

This morning, though the streets are clear of people. It’s only like 10am and it’s Sunday so I’m sure everyone is still sleeping off the previous night’s festivities, so I head down the red light district street. It’s not so bad during the day and I just walk. Up and down neighborhood streets. Not looking at a map, but just walking. I ended up on a bridge that took me over the river Main. Beautiful architecture everywhere. Lots of families biking and walking together. On the bridge, thousands of “love locks,” / padlocks are attached to it, in the same fashion that visitors attached locks to the bridge in Paris over the River Seine.

I eventually find myself back at Romerberg Square where we had dinner the night before. More shopping, picture taking, walking, and exploring. I discover the Jewish Museum and go inside. An interesting exhibit on the past and current experiences of German Jews with some beautiful exhibits. I was also fascinated by their use of displays and took photographs to perhaps replicate in some way at the Tipton County Museum.

At about 3pm, I called Steven to see if he was feeling better and if he wanted to get together for lunch. Nope, he was still resting so I found lunch for myself and continued to walk. I ended up walking almost seven miles that day but saw a lot of the city.

I eventually made it back to the hotel and fell asleep for a nap. Have you noticed a recurring theme here… walking = naps.

When I wake up and Steve is finally feeling better we head outside to visit the pub next door. I can’t leave Germany without experiencing at least one beer, so we pull up a chair at an outdoor pub table and get a pint, and people-watch.

People are crazy everywhere! A guy at the table next to us kept yelling at Steven in German. Then, some lady comes out of the train station, stands at the crosswalk across from us, and starts screaming at the top of her lungs. Just screaming. We have no idea at what… she was just screaming. I’m trying to get my camera out to video tape and she walks off. Stops and screams some more. Walks. Stops. Scream. There’s a police officer located not 50 feet from her, but they didn’t even look. A young German national joined us at our table for a couple of glasses and apologizes, telling us this is not the real Frankfurt, but I have a feeling it is all Frankfurt, especially in the neighborhood we were in.

An hour or so later, I decided I’m hungry and headed over to the train station to find some food. I leave my half-filled mug of beer on the table next to Steven. When I get back, my glass is missing.

“You let them take my glass?” I asked my husband.

“Nope! Some guy came by, grabbed your glass, and ran with it, drinking as he ran, then threw it down.”

What the hell! I go inside to tell the barmaid and apologize for losing her mug. She runs out to the street, but the guy is long gone. She shakes her head and says no worries and pours me another.

I love Europe!

Tomorrow we head to Ramstein in preparation for flying out.