Up early with Caroline, who’s going to Hannover with Klaus regarding some family matters. As the three of us head to the Zeilweg U-Bahn stop, the narrow passage we pass through snags me and tears my shirt at the shoulder. With no time to go change, I’m hoping the small one-inch (2 cm) slice won’t be too noticeable. On with the show.
Instead of staying in Frankfurt and wandering streets I’m already so familiar with, I’ll head somewhere I’ve never been before. Top of the list was Marburg, north of here. With the sun rising over the countryside, I’m on a regional train speeding along for the one-hour trip to this mystery city.
Welcome golden sun, spreading warmth and great light upon this adventure into the unknown. My exploration of virgin ground and venturing into the furthest reaches of the German countryside is reminiscent of my solo trip just a few months ago. I suppose the harkening back to my early days in Deutschland in the mid-1980s when this was a common occurrence draws the romantic out of me as I reach out across time to encounter my younger self.
It’s shortly after 8:00 when I arrive, excited at what I’ll find. The first photo is of the train station, as the architecture of these places often stands out. As is always the case, I take a ton of photos with none guaranteed to ever show up here on the blog, but it’s good to remain in the habit of starting early to photograph things else I might just go along lost in the moment, before realizing I should have been keeping a visual record.
I walk under an overpass that looks vaguely familiar until I start to pass over the Lahn River, which appears seriously familiar. Looking down the street and considering the castle on the mountain and the church spires I glimpsed, I start to nervously wonder, asking myself, “Have I been here before?” I pull out my phone, go to www.johnwise.com and search “Marburg.” Sweet Jesus, Mother of God, have you thrown a bucket of stupidity upon me? I was just here on May 30th, my sixth day in Germany just 14 weeks ago, and I already forgot that? Hello, old age, and welcome to a dozen new gray hairs as I earn them for my senior moment and the crushing defeat of romanticism.
Well, Marburg is NOT a central location to go ANYWHERE else. I studied and studied the departure schedule but came up blank, so with my gray mini-ponytail between my legs I buy a return ticket to Frankfurt that leaves momentarily. I race to the track, my train is there, and I start to run as it leaves in a minute at 8:48. At 8:56, still sitting in the station with nobody but me boarded, I’m starting to have my doubts if we are ever leaving. A conductor gets on the train, and I ask him about leaving for Frankfurt; he informs me that the printed schedule in the lobby is WRONG and my train left from track 4, not 1A. The train I’m on goes to godforsaken Giessen, which I swore I’d never visit again; either I stay on this or wait for the next train that runs later. I’m heading to Giessen because I’m aiming to be punished for my sins, whatever they may have been to this point in my life, and they are plenty.
Right on time for this train, we are leaving the station at 9:19, and now awake for four hours, I’ve effectively been nowhere, but I have had ample time to get some writing done. Once in Giessen, I’ll check their train plan and see if I can’t land somewhere other than Frankfurt on this adventure that I’m afraid is taking me everywhere except for where I think I want to go.
Damn, Caroline is already in Hannover (sans her sweater that is now traveling to new destinations on its own), and I’m still on the train to Giessen, stopping at every little Dorf and village along the way. Please, universe, don’t make me wait in the town that shall no longer be named for any longer than I must be there, please.
There wasn’t a moment to lose after pulling into the place as in just 2 minutes; a train was leaving for Frankfurt from an adjacent track. I ran downstairs, over one platform, and back upstairs, fully masked, mind you, only to find out that the train was running late. With about 5 minutes before I could make my escape, there was no time to investigate possibilities for traveling to other destinations, so Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof it is. We’ll arrive about 3.5 hours after I started my trip nowhere and back, but on the bright side, I’ve written nearly 2,000 words.
I was in the Hauptbahnhof only long enough to visit the Water Closet (WC = toilet) and jump on an ICE train to Mannheim. This will push me into running late to meet with Jutta, so I’ll have to dip into town, grab a quick photo or two, eat something, and get back to Frankfurt.
We’re zipping across the landscape, reaching escape velocities on a bullet train purported to reach speeds in excess of multiples of thousands of miles per hour, or so it’s claimed.
Wow, only five hours to get to a city 90 minutes away by car; I could have driven to Amsterdam in the same time.
I asked for directions to Altstadt (Old Town) and was looked at as though I were strange. I was informed that the Wasserturm was straight ahead, and to the left was the Innenstadt (Inner City).
The Wasserturm is the most iconic landmark here in Mannheim, according to some things I read on the first entry Google delivered. I went with it and headed that way. I can’t find a historic area or a cathedral, so I’ll have to make do with fountains and a water tower.
As far as I can tell, you have now shared with me the entirety of the historic area of Mannheim. Maybe if I’d arrived at, say, 8:30 this morning, the extra time in town would have shown me more, or is this all there is?
From the Wasserturm, you are now looking towards Innenstadt.
I’m not altogether certain if those are chest muscles out front or some protruding boobies on this lioness human hybrid.
Through the shopping area where the only difference between this and Zeil in Frankfurt is that trams run right through the middle of the district. I went looking for a restaurant serving something regional to Mannheim, but before I got there, I took inspiration from the silent vote of popularity by a dozen people standing in line at a shop making sandwiches. A giant slab of pork with a heart-stopping layer of crispy fat atop it slathered with mustard pressed all my buttons…
…almost. I’d spotted the spaghetti eis on my way up the street, and as I returned, the need for water and coffee demanded I make the transaction worth the while of the cafe letting me sit at one of their tables. I think I’ve found the trifecta: pork fat, ice cream, caffeine, and while my arteries might not be their happiest today, my quest for an experience is certainly being satisfied.
In a few minutes, I’ll pack up, use the WC on-premises, and return to the Mannheim Hauptbahnhof for my 50-minute trip back to Frankfurt. Once there, I go straight to Jutta until her dinner gets underway, and I return to the main train station once more today to meet Caroline and Klaus, who’ll be returning around 6:00. From there, we’ll be off to dinner.
The 14:05 train I had planned on can leave without me as I’m jumping on the regional train that leaves right now. I’ll buy the ticket on board because buying tickets is easy until it’s not. What the bloody hell is this stupid RMV app doing to me? The person checking tickets is coming up behind me, and I can’t get my credit card or PayPal to make the transaction. The app reports, “Something went wrong, try again.” When it’s my turn to show my ticket, I explain what’s happening, and the guy said, “Try again, I’ll return.” It just wouldn’t take, so I went to the Deutsche Bahn app and bought a ticket leaving in 15 minutes via an Inner-City Express train for the same price. When the man returned, I explained the situation in German, mind you, and showed him the error message. He said it wasn’t a problem and that I was good to go.
What I hadn’t realized was that this train is getting into Frankfurt nearly 30 minutes later than the ICE as we pass through Worms, Mainz, Frankfurt-Hofheim, and Frankfurt-Höchst. I need a short break as before returning to this post, I finished the draft of “A Walk Around Frankfurt,” and as soon as this train pulls into the Hauptbahnhof, I’ll jump a subway to Römer for a quick two-hour visit with my mother-in-law Jutta.
The lady on the left, yeah, you know her by now, she’s wearing the look of snark. I told her about my futile trip north, and instead of offering sympathy, she asked how it felt to have an encounter with a forgetful mind that she lives with every day. The implication felt like she was reading the tea leaves of my story ahead, suggesting I may one day walk in her shoes.
Jutta and I sat by the Main River as we have so many other times this year enjoying a Coke for her and mineral water for me. I’ll never be able to share how many times she and I have laughed together as it’s so often no one could keep count. Our shared time today is brief, with only a couple of hours spent here on the river. She’s got dinner at 6:00 waiting for her, and I’m going over to the Hauptbahnhof to meet Caroline and Klaus, who are due shortly afterward.
Rental bikes, like rental scooters, are scattered everywhere across this city. Sometimes, I come across abandoned rentals in the strangest of places and have to wonder, how does the company overseeing these dispersed vehicles claim them out in the middle of bridges, on forest paths, and, on occasion, in waterways?
As I was approaching track 8, Caroline and Klaus were right there with the rest of their fellow passengers walking away from their train that had just pulled in. We walked up Kaiserstrasse and then over to Munchener Strasse for some Turkish eats at Kebab Han. Stephanie didn’t join us, as with Caroline and Klaus traveling to Hannover. me wanting to live a big new adventure before visiting Jutta, Steph made plans to meet with a friend she’s not seen in quite a while and was still out with her.
I count on my readers and myself, having poor memories in remembering every detail I’ve ever posted here as this is not the first time this highrise has shown up on these pages. I don’t really have anything to say about it other than we walked past it on our way to Willy-Brandt Platz (formerly known as Theaterplatz), where a U-Bahn would whisk us home so we could get ready for our trip tomorrow that will see us leaving Frankfurt in the wee dark hours of 6:00 in the morning.