The Tale Of Two Quests

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

This is the tale of two quests. In one, brothers-in-law John and Klaus head out on their own adventure, and from the looks of our heads, you would rightly surmise that we are off for a bike ride. Meanwhile, the sisters will putz around at home for a good long time, in part fixing my leather computer bag, before venturing into their own quest for Frankfurt’s best ice cream.

With me riding a rented e-bike and Klaus pedaling for real, we are heading to the Westend of Frankfurt, and on the way, we pass Fernmeldeturm. This is the closest I’ve ever been to this tower. One used to be able to take an elevator to a restaurant and a viewing platform (the two rings of windows), but unfortunately, they have been closed for a while now.

Klaus figured out our trail using the Komoot app, which I’ve now downloaded, too. He told me where we were going, but I couldn’t figure out what or where that might be; it’s just nice to be out for a long ride.

I snapped this photo from Holbeinsteg, which is a footbridge over the Main River. Interestingly, the bridge was designed by Albert Speer Jr., son of the former Reich Minister for Armaments and Ammunition, Albert Speer. Well, I had no idea the role Albert Speer Jr., played in many architectural and design elements found around Frankfurt.

Before reaching this point in the city, we had to pass through a particular corner of the Bahnhofsviertel that might be a shade darker than Skid Row in Los Angeles, though that is uncertain. It’s likely equal, but coming out of the perfect sterility of the surrounding area, the abrupt encounter with depravity in this concentration is jarring, and things are feeling worse somehow. Two women sharing an open-air urinal, taking a squat in public, and the man who looked awfully dead lying behind a car on the street added to the sense of squalor.

Out of the city and into the countryside, we are entering the place of big green.

I was told beforehand that our ride south would take us about 30 kilometers (nearly 19 miles) from the city, but with Klaus and I both carrying our cameras and making frequent stops, this could take all day, not that I’m complaining.

Other than the occasional sound of birds, there’s little observable wildlife out here. Riding up on this small pond was one of the rare opportunities to see a bird up close.

There are so many bike- and footpaths sliced throughout Germany that I think I could spend the rest of my life traveling them and still never see but a fraction. Here, we are crossing over the A3 Autobahn using a bridge that is only for pedestrians and bike riders.

It didn’t feel like we’d left all that long ago, but here we are, entering farmland and way off in the distance is a glimpse of the Frankfurt skyline.

Leading like a champ across Hill and Dale, we ride and ride.

Out in the middle of nowhere, we rode up on this sealed mine that at one time was a source of heavy spar. This mineral was used at one time as a counterweight in elevators, which made me wonder why lead wasn’t used instead, so I checked the weight of heavy spar. This mineral weighs in at 4.5 grams per cubic centimeter compared to lead at 11.3 grams per cubic centimeter. I can guess that the mineral only needed to be mined while lead required processing, thus making it more expensive.

A nearby honor box invited people to pick sunflowers and pay 50 cents per flower or €5 per dozen. There was nothing posted about taking photos, so I grabbed a few.

There is no passing of horses anymore without thinking about Katharina (our niece), who loves horses, a lot!

Caroline Wise and Stephanie Engelhardt in Frankfurt, Germany

Meanwhile, in a parallel universe, the unfolding of the second quest has been underway. Stephanie and her sister, a.k.a. my wife Caroline, got a late start and have finally sent us a photo to assure the husbands that they actually left the house instead of gabbing all day over tea and yarn in Stephanie’s attic/yarn warehouse. 

City, farm, forest, it’s all so charming.

And if all of that wasn’t enough, we started passing blackberry bushes. I couldn’t resist sampling the wares and got a few sour berries for each sweet one I found.

Stephanie Engelhardt in Frankfurt, Germany

Returning to Quest #2, the ladies have stopped for what they claim are salads, but considering the infamous ice cream prepared to look like spaghetti, I have my doubts that what we are looking at is indeed lettuce, onion, and tomatoes, instead of some wickedly accurate-looking carved ice cream.

Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

I have to admit surprise that they were eating healthy when we’d discussed them going out on an ice cream binge.

We’ve arrived at our furthest southerly point, the Kulturhistorische Erlebnisstätte Auf der Bulau, also known as the Cultural-historical experience site on the Bulau, for my fellow English speakers.

At one time, there were 25 burial mounds (tumuli) here; today only two reconstructions remain. Like the Celtic area we visited yesterday, this one too, is from the Middle Hallstatt period (700 – 450 BC). Next to the mounds is a reconstructed Roman road that once ran through the area from Dieburg south of here to Dietzenbach, where we are going next.

It was around 2:00 in the afternoon when we found a place for lunch in the charming village of Dietzenbach. I can’t really say it’s charming, as I’ve only seen a tiny corner of it this afternoon, but what I saw wasn’t bad. When I lived in nearby Frankfurt during the end of the last century, Dietzenbach had a terrible reputation, though I think that was primarily based on the probably mistaken idea that only welfare recipients and immigrants lived out here. Anyway, as you can see, I opted for an American-style burger and fries. While it was okay, the Germans don’t really know how to do this right.

If this looks like the direction back to Frankfurt to you too, you’d be correct in your assumption.

These free green apples yelled, “Pick me!” as I passed; well, that was until Klaus read the sign, “Do not pick the apples and do not leave your trash.” Had I then tossed back the apples I had just picked, I would have been leaving trash, so I figured one instance of breaking the rules was enough for one day. Then again, I think I crossed at least one street while the light was red and might have ridden on a sidewalk when I shouldn’t have. How I got away without any tickets today is beyond me.

Caroline Wise and Stephanie Engelhardt in Frankfurt, Germany

While the guys are out stealing apples, the women have dipped (pun intended) into an ice cream shop called Antipodean, which Stephanie recently learned was a highly-rated stop on the map of Frankfurt. The pink scoop was “Red Dragon,” a raspberry sorbet spiced up with chili, and the white scoop was “Miscake,” a mix of carrot cake, vanilla, and caramel. Miscake was definitely the winner here, and with that, the sisters were off to the next stop.

I’m in love with traveling over Germany by forest trail. A couple of years ago, while I was in Berlin, I’d cross the Spree River in the morning and walk through the woods to the location of the event I was attending. In the evening, I’d walk the same path back to my Airbnb. Initially, I felt trepidation because of the anxiety that had traveled from America to Germany with me, but I quickly adapted to the idea that there was nobody waiting in the forest to attack me, such as the evil Giftzwerg I’d been warned about.

We are now nearly 50 kilometers (about 31 miles) into this adventure, with 14 kilometers (9 miles) to go before returning to Heddernheim.

Caroline Wise and Stephanie Engelhardt in Frankfurt, Germany

Oh, they were apparently serious about making this an ice cream social, as here we are at stop number two, Lolli Eis, just down the street. Just as with Antipodean, a long line of patiently waiting mask wearers is lined up before the store. Since there was no free table, the sisters shared table space with two regulars. The flavors sampled included passionfruit, pomegranate yogurt, dark chocolate on the left, cassis (blackcurrant), blood orange, and stracciatella on the right.

After a false start where Komoot wanted us to cross the Main River next to an Autobahn for us to circle around Frankfurt via Bornheim, we decided we still had some autonomy left and diverted our path to travel along the riverbank. The river is to our right, and pictures of it are up next, but it was the tree-lined path with these beautiful shadows I had to share first.

Caroline Wise and Stephanie Engelhardt in Frankfurt, Germany

Life, even in parallel universes, is not all about the sweets. There seems to be a need for the occasional tea/coffee break. I’m pretty sure that tea runs in Stephanie’s veins while Caroline’s flows with a slurry of coffee and rye bread dough. Coffee and tea were enjoyed at Harvey on Friedberger Platz.

While I just posted an image of this two months ago, I’m finding it difficult to find new things to photograph.

Caroline Wise and Stephanie Engelhardt in Frankfurt, Germany

Oh my god, seriously? A third stop for ice cream in half a day? They have no shame. While Klaus and I pedal our asses off, riding our bikes through mud, rain, snow, sleet, wild dogs, desert, thistles, angry crowds, the horde, barbarians, minefields, and a pit of mustard gas, they dare send us smiling faces with cheeks full of ice cream giving them the appearance of chipmunks stuffed on acorns. The last sampling included flavors such as Frankfurter Kranz, tonka bean, lime, and quince.

Since it was Sunday, the path along the river was packed, and getting through with bikes was too uncomfortable, so we left and headed over to the Untermainbrücke (Lower Main Bridge) to begin the last leg of our ride.

Frankfurt, Germany

This was the ship that transported Caroline and Stephanie between our world and the Universe of Gelato. Obviously, the rules of Earth don’t apply where they went today, as how does anyone eat that much ice cream?

My brother-in-law Klaus has been a terrific trip planner and leader today. I believe he commanded the weather to act cooperatively in order that nothing should blemish our amazing experience. He and I agreed that this was the textbook definition of a perfect day.

Frankfurt, Germany

This wasn’t apparent to me either so let me enlighten you why Caroline found this photo cute. Look at the license plate on this small car; it reads RIESE, and in German, that means giant. So, do you get it? Giant on a tiny car, maybe this is a German thing for those experiencing a sugar overdose from eating 40 or 50 scoops of ice cream? Shortly after this, the two quests merged, and the ice cream fest was over…for now!

Somehow, Klaus still had the energy to barbecue dinner for the four of us. He prepared a mixed grill of lamb, pork, chicken, and beef with grilled sweet potato, mixed olives, and a tomato salad. Plus, I forgot to mention that he arranged and presented our breakfast of Brötchen, various jams (I’m eating his entire supply of homemade apricot-vanilla jam), and coffee. He should win the award for being the perfect host, as I feel indebted to him for contributing to a seriously uber-wonderful vacation day here in Germany.

Bike Route to Bulau

When we finished our ride, we logged about 64 kilometers or 40 miles, which had us in the saddle for nearly 4.5 hours of the 8 hours we were out riding. This is the map of today’s route.

Frankfurt Vacation – Day 3

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Today, on our way to see Caroline’s mom, we move through the same streets, arriving to find a mother-in-law, a bit disoriented. To minimize any confusion, I excuse myself and leave Caroline to talk with Jutta as we’ve recognized that she can become overwhelmed when dealing with two people simultaneously. When lunchtime rolled around, Caroline brought her mom to the dining room and joined me downstairs so we could head to our next meeting.

Returning the way we came, a sticker announcing Photography & Philosophy caught my eye; it turns out that this is a print magazine named Soul of Street that comes out of Cologne, Germany.

We had some time before our 1:00 meeting and so we took a walk over towards the opera. During my previous visit, this square was empty, and I photographed the Alte Oper with nobody between me and it.

Most of the tourists that would normally be in Europe during the summer are still missing from the streets, but other than them, things appear mostly back to normal as far as crowds are concerned. I’d estimate that maybe 1 in 10 on the streets are wearing masks, but for all shops and trains, masks are still mandatory.

Walking around the opera we discovered a new building we’d never seen before, the Wave or Die Welle as it’s known in German.

This is an old friend of ours, her name is Angela, she’s a nurse, and this was about the only time she could find to meet with us as tomorrow morning she leaves for Formentera, Spain to visit her boyfriend, Ruben.

Our loose plan was to visit an open-air market, get a bit for lunch, and sit a while talking over coffee. That’s exactly what we did.

After a few hours of sharing plans for the future and talking about love, Angela needed to get going to do some shopping and packing for tomorrow’s flight. Having only had the bratwurst and wanting to beat the Friday dinner crowd, Caroline and I headed off in the direction of a small German restaurant Angela recommended.

Across the Main River on our way to Sachsenhausen. Our destination was Eichkatzerl restaurant for some traditional local cuisine and a small bembel of Apfelwein for Caroline.

All that Apfelwein (apple wine) Caroline drank had to find an exit. To her regret, she decided to try one of these portapotties, and from the afternoon sun that beat on it all day, she knew she’d made a mistake. You may not be able to see it quite clearly but her face is reflecting the stench she’s emerging from.

There’s a strange realization as we walk along here on the Main River: we are about the oldest people around. It’s not late, maybe 7:30, as we stroll along, but the older people of the city are nowhere to be found. I should point out that if we are on the train between 6:00 and 9:00 in the morning, it’s mostly younger people, but after that, the old folks head out into the city, but by 3:00 p.m., they are disappearing as young people once again dominate the scene. It’s strange to me that old people appear to be carving out a time of day when they can avoid young people, but that’s just my observation.

Back on Eisener Steg, a.k.a. Iron Bridge and on our way back to the main shopping area where we’ll catch a train out to Heddernheim. Another day for friends and family.

Also Frankfurt, Germany

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Hauptwache and Downtown Frankfurt, Germany

Never have we slept so well after a flight, but after burning the midnight oil, we slept soundly for seemingly days, only waking after 7:00. A slow traditional breakfast of Brötchen (rolls) that was delivered to Klaus and Stephanie’s front door while not taken in bed, were enjoyed in ways only available to those in Germany. This extraordinary indulgence was followed by some blogging duties that took us till nearly 11:00 before we got out. We emerged from the subway here at Hauptwache and started our long walk across Zeil on the way to lunch.

Park in Frankfurt, Germany

With me having just been in Germany a mere eight weeks ago, I’m finding things all too familiar, and that is hampering my ability to take photos. It seems that it was all just photographed yesterday. Still, this is now Caroline’s return home, so I’ll endeavor to take advantage of the nice weather and capture something or other so the narrative regarding this adventure will have some visual clues to where it is we are exploring these days.

On Bergerstrasse in Frankfurt, Germany

We are walking up Bergerstrasse in order to make time aside from family and various obligations to find some spontaneity while immersing ourselves in the small details that make up the city. Graffiti, posters, and stickers are some of the quickest ways to drill into the zeitgeist of the places we visit, and when the cultural scribblings to me are provocative or sexually fetishized, they are quick to grab my attention, such as the submissive mantis-human, the casual use of the word “Fuck” on a political poster, and the reference to Fridays For Future movement.

At the rose garden on Im Prüfling in Frankfurt, Germany

Here, we pass a rose garden on Im Prüfling. It’s a relatively long walk to our lunch, but that’s okay, as it’s such a beautiful late summer day.

Caroline Wise at Döneria in Frankfurt, Germany

Along the way, we stopped at a shop that Klaus recommended to Caroline as a good source of rhubarb soda, and while there she also found a rhubarb juice she picked up. Sadly, it is the wrong time of year for her to buy fresh rhubarb danishes because, as you might glean by now, Caroline loves rhubarb, known as rhabarber in German.

By the way, behind Caroline is a place called Döneria, where we shared lunch. Maybe you can tell from the name of the business that we were having a Döner, a wonderful, incredibly yummy Döner. While I’ve said it before, it bears repeating: America doesn’t do Döner except for that place in New York City where we once found it. The closest America gets is with their yucky gyros, but that doesn’t really come all that close.

At Römer in Frankfurt, Germany

From our midday meal, we jumped on the train for a quick ride to Römer for another visit with my mother-in-law.

Caroline Wise and Jutta Engelhardt having an ice cream on the Main River in Frankfurt, Germany

Having collected Caroline’s mother, we moseyed over to the banks of the Main River and grabbed a free park bench while I went to buy the ladies an ice cream and the three of us coffees.

While this is the smile of a happy mom and someone who dearly loves her family, Jutta has dementia, and sometimes it shows through more so than other times. Later in the day when talking with her other daughter, Stephanie, Jutta conveyed what a nice time she had this afternoon with me while Caroline was off with a friend of hers. My mother-in-law’s failing memory was confusing that we’d be meeting with Caroline’s friend on Friday and that the three of us were, in fact, together this afternoon.

There’s obviously a tragedy at work here when you must take into account that much of what we’ll share with her over these few weeks of vacation in Frankfurt will be lost, but during our visits, she couldn’t be happier, and she enthusiastically shares with us how much she loves us being here.

On the Main River in Frankfurt, Germany

Making plans to enjoy the little precious time we have left becomes all the more important as nobody knows when she’ll either not even recognize us or she might grow angry due to imagined neglect. Right now, her certainty about the past is strong, and she talks with authority about those days, but the last few days and even an hour ago are lost in the haze of dementia. Strangely enough, she can even talk about her awareness of falling into this ailment that afflicts the elderly from her previous knowledge of how it works, but that doesn’t allow things to break through regarding how it might be affecting her at any particular moment.

And so this is where we sat for the next three hours, watching people come and go along with the boats ferrying people up and down the river who were out for a short cruise and a glass of beer or maybe wine.

In the Bahnhofsviertal in Frankfurt, Germany

Maybe Caroline and I should have had our own Döner earlier, as I was getting hungry by the time we brought Jutta back to her room. Trying to figure out where to eat wasn’t easy, though it should have been, as Caroline is seriously flexible compared to me. She wasn’t ready for more Grüne Soße (Green Sauce), and I wasn’t ready for more carbs, so we settled on a place I’d visited on my previous trip over in the Bahnhofsviertal (main train station quarter).

Kebab Han Restaurant in the Bahnhofsviertal in Frankfurt, Germany

More Turkish food sounded great to me, and the mixed grill plate for two was perfect. We are at Kebab Han on Münchenerstrasse, and while I just lamented more carbs, the majority of the fries remained after we finished the lamb, chicken, and beef extravaganza.

Old Fashioned at Bar Helium in Frankfurt, Germany

Time for some people watching at a trendy bar. Helium on Bleidenstrasse was just the place. Caroline got set up with some of her favorite paint thinner better known as an Old Fashioned, only this one was outfitted as a Dirty Bastard version. I brought out the trusty computer to finish yesterday’s blog post and prepare today’s photos.

So, not a lot of photos to share and not a lot of moments to convey, but our time with family is taking precedence during these early days in Germany. Soon, we’ll be on some other journeys that involve tourism that I’ll be happy to snap off hundreds of photos of exotic sights to tax my writing and time management skills in order to bring you into our three-week adventure away from home.

Frankfurt, Germany

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Caroline Wise and her mom Jutta Engelhardt in Frankfurt, Germany

We landed, deplaned, zipped through customs, and headed downstairs to the train platforms to buy a monthly pass for public transport before getting on the train to the main station (Hauptbahnhof) in the center of Frankfurt. Once in the city, momentum got us to the U-Bahn for the short ride out to Heddernheim, where my in-laws Klaus and Stephanie live and where we’ll be staying. After dropping our bags, we were nearly just as soon gone and on our way back to Frankfurt.

Not far from the old town center is Lebenshaus on the Main River, where Jutta Engelhardt, my mother-in-law, is now a resident in an assisted living situation. This is the first time Caroline and Jutta have seen each other face to face, other than on Skype or WhatsApp, since the summer of 2019.

Caroline Wise and her mom Jutta Engelhardt in Frankfurt, Germany

After catching up on a few things and sharing our experience flying business class, we got Jutta up and out of her room so we could make our way to lunch.

Römer in Frankfurt, Germany

Repeating my lunch experience with Jutta back in June, we headed over to Römer. On our approach, the telltale signs of a wedding were seen and heard. Towards the center of the photo is the Standesamt, where people enter their civil marriage, and if you look closely, you can see a small wedding party over there. The “heard” part of the ceremony comes from the carillon of the Alte Nikolai church, which is used to play songs requested by the bride and groom. Strangely enough, a song from the anime film Spirited Away and a traditional Japanese folk melody called Cherry Blossoms were being played on the bells.

Leberkäse with egg and brafkartoffeln in Frankfurt, Germany

Like me, prior to my last visit, Caroline hadn’t ever eaten at Römer Berg either. Let me clarify that we’d not eaten at the restaurants here, but we enjoyed a thing or two during the annual Christmas Market when we lived in Frankfurt. So, today’s lunch is brought to us by Zum Standesämtchen. As per my usual, I had green sauce and schnitzel while Caroline opted for Leberkäse (fried mystery meat) with Spiegelei and Brafkartoffeln.

Caroline Wise next to the Main River in Frankfurt, Germany

After five hours with Jutta (including a 30-minute impromptu post-lunch nap, better referred to as passed-out, in chairs), Caroline and I needed to get moving as jet lag was threatening us with demands for proper sleep. A lemon ice cream cone and a walk along the Main River on a beautiful day were just the kind of wakeful therapy we needed.

Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

One thing led to another, and after Caroline had her picture taken with the Frankfurt police mascot, we were invited past the barrier to learn about crime prevention in the Frankfurt area. This was certainly not the first thing that would show up on many people’s list of things to do when visiting a European capital city, but then again, we were tired and were seriously familiar enough here that we could afford to get outside our scope of desired experiences. It turned out to be quite interesting to learn about the history of the Stadtpolizei (city police) and that Caroline’s open purse was an invitation to grab something, which I’m always warning her about. The furry creature serving as the mascot is actually supposed to be a lion, in line with the Hessian crest, but we fail to see much of a resemblance.

Klaus and Stephanie Engelhardt with Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

With the day starting to cool off, we headed back to Heddernheim so I could grab a wool undershirt I rely on when it gets cold, but it turns out I forgot to pack it, just like my fleece. Accepting that I’ll likely freeze to death here at the end of summer if I were to remain outside, we were only at Klaus and Stephanie’s long enough to have a coffee and then got right back out on the train for a trip back into the city center.

Maybe you were expecting Shaquille O’Neal? Well, we can’t deliver him, but the next best thing is the Grüne Soße Festival in Frankfurt. We couldn’t be happier to be here, though we could be better rested. That lack of sleep doesn’t matter as we consider ourselves incredibly fortunate to be able to attend the festival. During previous events, we only heard about it from Klaus and Stephanie, who have attended every year, only having missed out on the inaugural first year.

Green Sauce Festival in Frankfurt, Germany

The Grüne Soße Festival, for those who don’t read German, is a Green Sauce Festival. How does one celebrate green sauce, you might wonder? Well, Grüne Soße is a regional comfort food unique to the Frankfurt area that at one time was mostly available in spring and early summer, but with greater demand and popularity, the dish is available with slight modifications due to the availability of particular herbs that the dish requires. Starting with seven different fresh herbs and a yogurt base or something similar, this sauce is popular with boiled potatoes and hardboiled eggs and is also great on schnitzel.

The pitcher above doesn’t really have anything to do with Grüne Soße other than Apfelwein goes well with the dish we’ll be enjoying tonight. How would my reader know that this “Bembel” or jug is used for holding “Apfelwein,” a popular hard apple cider here in Frankfurt? Well, because I’m sharing that with you right now. So, if you ever find yourself in Frankfurt, just know that these things are unique to this area, and you’d sorely miss out on this tradition if you fail to go out and find it.

Green Sauce Festival in Frankfurt, Germany

Much of the nuance of the evening’s entertainment was lost on me as the speed of German was not aimed at those for whom German is a second language. No matter, the general idea of things was understood as “All Thing Green Sauce” was the underlying thread.

Green Sauce Festival in Frankfurt, Germany

During an intermission in the festivities, plates with seven different samples of green sauce (I hope you see what they did there, considering that Grüne Soße is made up of seven different herbs) were delivered to every guest. Green eggs were delivered, followed by boiled new potatoes. Oh, as soon as we arrived earlier, bread and drinks were served, and it should be pointed out that food and drinks were included in the price of the seating reservation.

During the first part of the entertainment, clues were offered regarding the various green sauces, and then after we tried them all, we played a kind of Grüne Soße Lotto trying to match the sauces to which local restaurant made it. I didn’t win, but someone else at our table for eight did!

Green Sauce Festival in Frankfurt, Germany

The second half of the evening’s entertainment was more my flavor, with a great Abba parody put to the idea of green sauce, and a local theater company supplied some stilt-walking fairies that moved between the tables.

I estimated that there were nearly 500 of us here in the audience tonight, and this was just one of seven evenings that this sampling and entertainment will be occurring during the three weeks that the festival is happening this year.

Green Sauce Festival in Frankfurt, Germany

The day has been a whirlwind, with two days of experience shoved into one. The idea that we landed 16 hours earlier and are just now crawling back to Heddernheim in the middle of the night is crazy. Exhausted is our final destination, but this extraordinary first day in Germany will keep it as one of the most memorable. Big, big thanks to Klaus and Stephanie for picking up the extra tickets for us to join them at this annual Green Sauce Festival and once again welcoming us into their home.

Day 33 – Kunst, Covid, Gott, und Sonne

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Frankfurt, Germany

Gilbert & George, COVID-19, God, and Sun are part of my day today, my last full day in Frankfurt during this visit. In reverse, the sun is already shining when I’d expected rain the last few days or so the forecast was warning me of just two days ago. In order to be allowed to return to America on Monday, I have to get a test for the Coronavirus even though I’m vaccinated. Then, I’m meeting Caroline’s godmother, Helga, at the Schirn Museum for the Gilbert & George exhibit. And somewhere in there is God.

Frankfurt, Germany

Between these moments, I will be meeting with Jutta, finding food, and taking inventory of what I didn’t do while in Frankfurt. No, scratch that; the inventory is as full as it’s going to be. I have to squash the idea that I should find something new to give heft to the day. I’m on my way out, and that is that.

John Wise getting Coronavirus test in Frankfurt, Germany

The left nostril was a piece of cake (no, I’m referencing a booger), but the right nostril was one of the most ticklish things I’ve ever felt. No wonder people sneeze with 3 inches of swab deep in their sinus while all I could do was laugh at how absurdly ticklish it was. This test, my first ever, was required by the U.S. even though I’m traveling fully vaccinated. I can only wonder how nervous the CDC is that the vaccine might not be as effective as they hope for.

Frankfurt, Germany

I was just around the corner from Jutta’s because we had a date to have lunch together one more time during this visit. Every time I see Römer, home of the Frankfurt city government, I can’t help but think of past Christmas markets held here, with Caroline and I dressed warmly and her enjoying a Glühwein (spiced hot wine).

Frankfurt, Germany

Some things are out of the way, while others are yet to come. In between, I’m taking a pause in one of my regular haunts, when they are near anyway, a church. Frankfurt Cathedral is today’s shelter from the crowds that have returned as restrictions related to COVID-19 are being relaxed. There’s someone at the organ practicing a song that I would like to identify.

The piece I heard is titled Nada te Turbe from the Spaniard Theresa von Avila; it’s beautiful.

Damn it, I’m being brought to tears as the organist and violinist plays Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major. You’d think I’d heard this enough times for it to no longer have any effect, but here it is in the cathedral with all the reverb a room like this produces, and as the music fills the space, I’m filled with all of the emotion I felt when I first heard this piece when I was a teenager.

Frankfurt, Germany

Where is the perpetually angry, angst-ridden John who was certain all was for naught? I’m now so often swayed by beauty in any of its forms and captured in the deep emotions that seem to bind me to a passion of awe. I can more easily lament the spleen that spews from my indignation than I can share those things that well up in a swirl of emotional astonishment, bringing me to tears. The desire to fall into bliss, swooning with the ecstatic chords of what is unfolding in music, nature, sky, and sea, brings me to a primal state that defies logic. The sense of symbiosis is fleeting, though, because I fear letting go completely as I’d certainly weep out loud, bringing unwanted attention by those who might check if I’m okay.

The Dom is filling up as I sit to the side, inappropriately dressed for whatever function that is being prepared. I wish to stay put for whatever service or performance will be taking place, but I have a meeting with Caroline’s godmother just minutes from now. I would like to believe I could sit in church every day for the rest of my life across Europe and listen to the entire body of music ever created for these settings and never grow bored. How is this grizzled old atheist so in touch with the profound? For that matter, just what is profound?

Love is profound, and in our passion to communicate with something greater than ourselves, we explore the heights that language, light, and sound can bring us. If for no other reason, I must bring Caroline back to the land where she was born, where these moments exist at such an exquisite level.

Yes, churches exist in America but it is a bastardized cartoon version, full of fire and brimstone with songs that appeal to the simplest of minds. Of course, that element exists in Europe, but in the great 1,000-year-old cathedrals the formality of reverence weighs in on the body that has collected in these great houses that were built to bring God to the masses. I’ve listened to chanting, song, choir, and the organ fills the cavernous space with the varied traditions practiced across this continent that elicit respect compared to the variants of the Baptists who demonstrate that we are, by and large, clowns.

Gilbert & George at Schirn Museum Frankfurt, Germany

This right here is the epitome of the American church, thanks Gilbert & George.

John Wise at Schirn Museum in Frankfurt, Germany

Why the serious look, John? Because I’m in the fucking Schirn Museum seeing the mother fucking gay-ass Gilbert & George art exhibit with their oversized prints of cocks, balls, and intimate fucking looks at their assholes, that’s fucking why. By the way fucker, I’m here with my godmother Helga, fuck yeah. Now go get fucked.

Jutta Engelhardt and Helga in Frankfurt, Germany

From the cathedral to the church of Art to the Catholic-operated senior home with my mother-in-law and godmother because I know how to party. So, what will I do for an encore? Go back to the cathedral.

Frankfurt, Germany

No, I did not ask God or Jesus to cleanse my eyes after looking deep into buttholes and upon dicks; I came back to this house of worship hoping for inspiration of where I might eat dinner on a Saturday night. Can there really be a meaningful meal that will satisfy this stupid need to get that one thing that will complete my culinary visit to Germany?

Desperation is quick at hand as I race across the city on the train to Heddernheim, giving up on finding a magic key to the satisfaction that I will have been in Frankfurt instead of just visiting it. What photo or what words can I capture that will bring a sense of accomplishment that this time, which felt infinite a month ago, runs out in less than 48 hours? Did this moment arrive because I was anticipating it, or is this a condition of all travelers? The essence of a place is impossible to carry with us as we leave. Try as I might, I cannot bring the Oregon Coast back to Arizona, so why should I be so greedy to drag some intrinsic value out of this sojourn to Germany?

Instead, I’m trying to concede that I cannot pull more into myself, so I’ll join my in-laws for some Ethiopian dinner and try to put the German experience on hold for the rest of the evening. Tomorrow will be a day of immersion as I head south into Worms and Karlsruhe.

Ries Metzgerei, Eschersheimer Landstrasse 417, was where I saw the canned meat. It’s at the stop south of Lindenbaum.

Frankfurt, Germany

We put up an impenetrable wall and live behind it for 1000 years. We claim we can leave anytime we want to, but we remain in our fortress and explain that we needn’t leave because everything we find that we enjoy is right here. In those thousand years, the Vikings disappeared, trade opened around the old world, plagues came and went, and a Renaissance preceded the Enlightenment that paved the way for the Industrial Revolution, followed by in Information Revolution. You, though, chose to live in the isolation of a world without change, you never even saw the world change because your walls were so effective you decided to blot out the sun by creating a bubble.

While you slept, the universe grew, and others stepped into that void, but you knew there was no use for those things you didn’t really know anyway, so why would you need that challenge to give up your comfortable ways? If everyone in your colony is of the same opinion and you’ve collectively chosen a path that says a life of a thousand years where every day will be much the same as the previous day, well, I suppose that your harmony is worth this lack of effort. What happens, though, if only one person wants to venture beyond the walls? Do you imprison them with a warning of how a single breach of the status quo could disrupt your own personal happiness and likely everyone else’s?

The problem isn’t that the world is changing; it’s that we are choosing to be prisoners to ourselves and trying to trap others in our device that was created from bricks of fear. What is beyond is dangerous, so we must hide. Others want to do us harm; help me as I panic that you want from me what I can’t give you. What you can’t give is options, alternatives, and some healthy change that we must all step through if we are to grow.

I cannot live within your walls, the air is stale, and the shit is piled too high. If you would just climb atop your mountain of feces, you might see the fresh air and clean water waiting for you to breathe it, to taste it, to then celebrate this ability to crawl out of your own pit of delusion and denial.

Frankfurt, Germany

After a month of German food, it was time to break out of that routine, even I need change. This little outdoor joint offering a vegan plate was perfect for me. Aside from the potatoes I’ve been eating, this might be the night I ate as many vegetables as I’ve eaten all month.

Frankfurt, Germany

Tonight’s walk took me from Rödelheim over an autobahn and along the Nidda River once more. The 7.5-kilometer walk at sunset was a much-needed balm from the after-effects of my mouth creating tensions. What are these tensions I refer to? Suffice it to say that in too many situations, my flapping gums have the ability to inflame others. Better to go out in a burst of fire than just fade away as though I’d never been there…that’s not my motto, but I suppose it could be.

Day 31 – Neverending

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Finishing something is a misnomer, as no one ever really finishes anything. Everything is in a constant state of becoming the next thing. You finish knitting new socks, and the next pair is already planned. If you will no longer knit you will still analyze the nature of fibers and the forms they’ve taken. Your thinking will continue the work your actions have left behind.

And so it was this morning, believing that my post from yesterday was finished. With no photos to prepare and nothing from the previous day to write about, I was free to fall into my 31st day in Germany with nothing on the agenda requiring me to clean up loose ends. But before I could press the “Add New” button here in WordPress, I scanned the images from yesterday to see the sequence when my eye caught that I’d only written one sentence about the photo of the approaching train.

Only one sentence? Why did that strike me? There are other images with merely one sentence, and I didn’t feel compelled to stop on them. The man from Yorkshire who inspired me to snap the image wasn’t mentioned; I should add that. Now, I was able to continue my scroll down, inspecting the sequence. What was it about the first words under the green blur with my reflection that pulled me in to make changes there? Then, I needed to rework other parts of that paragraph and add a new one.

I had to save those changes and stop looking at yesterday’s work if I was going to move over here to start a new entry on a new day about new things. Instead, today’s theme seems to be established as the neverending something or other, which is okay as that follows the threads that connect me to my days and my thoughts to words.

Also, connecting things is our niece Katharina. As for her and me, this is our second time meeting while I’ve been in Germany. She’s currently attending university in Darmstadt with a full schedule that keeps her busy. But here we are out for a walk on the Nidda River that we had planned before her father, and I went off to the Wattenmeer. Who knew it would be raining? With her enthusiasm for a walk on a wet day, there was no way I was going to let a 21-year-old young lady be tougher than her uncle from America. So we walked, and I tried not to whine too much.

Like so many people in transition to becoming adults, these are trying times for this young lady but she’s determined to do the right things to work through her studies and the other challenges presenting themselves. As we walked along and the rain continued to fall a man riding his bicycle spoke out as he was passing how nice it was to see other “Rain People.”

That was nice enough, but then he stopped his bike next to a lone goose walking on our path to commune with it. As we caught up with him, I told him how much I appreciated his greeting and seeing that he, too, enjoyed a moment with random animals encountered while traveling. Learning that he was already drunk here before lunch and was at peace with his alcoholism caught me by surprise. We talked about the 12 Steps before he tried sharing his ideas for the 13th step, where he was happy with his drinking and that it was no longer the problem it used to be. Some things were lost in translation, but it was appreciated, this encounter with a happy drunk.

Katharina and I continued our walk in the rain with nary a break in the weather. This wasn’t going to be a trek to Bad Vilbel like my previous walk on this trail as I was going to head into the city center to visit Jutta, and she had an appointment to get her first shot of the Pfizer-Biontech vaccine after lunch with her mom and dad.

After four days of not seeing Jutta, it was time to visit her, especially as my opportunities to do so were dwindling as I approached going home. I recounted my time shared with her other son-in-law Klaus up at the Wattenmeer and showed her the pictures on my blog. Jutta doesn’t do internet, so it’s not an option for her to grab updates there, which is sad, as much of Caroline’s and my life is shared here. She’d so easily be able to have a richer connection to her daughter beyond the weekly phone calls, but my mother-in-law was not made for the age of technology. Her dinner hour was upon us, so I bid her goodbye and ventured out for my own evening meal.

Late addition to this post: The next day, I called Jutta to excuse myself for not showing up on Friday because I needed a down day to just relax and do nothing. She asked if Klaus and I were back yet. There was no memory of the hours I spent with her on this day, and while I certainly am well aware of the state of her fading memory, I learned today just how bad it is. Yes, this can be a normal part of the life process, but still, I’m deeply saddened to know that all of her beautiful memories that power her sweet smile are heading for the exit.

Google suggested the Tonbul Grill und Kebap Haus for “Best Döner” in Frankfurt. Do I think it was the best? Nope, but it was nice, with the bread baked in-house being a standout, just as the reviews mentioned. What would I change? Add more meat.

I was already near Konstablerwache when it occurred to me, with my roughly 85 hours remaining in Germany, that this might be my last opportunity to head up train line U5 towards Preungesheim, stopping at Glauburgstrasse for the short walk to Eis Christina and another spaghetti ice cream. Getting off the train, I looked around and didn’t recognize anything, so I turned left but couldn’t find Glauburgstrasse. Had the intersection been rebuilt? Google again to the rescue, Glauburgstrasse was behind me, and then it dawned on me the train stop had been moved north and was modernized.

It’s no longer the middle of the day. It’s not the end of the day either. It’s the part of the day I sit down with some intention that I believe my location might lend itself to finding some inspiration. During these initial moments of panic, I want to throw up my hands and yell at myself, “What do you think you’ll do here sitting in another of the many places you’ve sat before with the hope of falling into the raging creative waters of discovery?” The greatest of all insights might be right here awaiting just one word, one letter, one thought, but if I don’t take a break and listen closely, I could miss the beginning of the thread waiting to unspool.

Being in Germany, I can afford (or am I forced to afford?) the luxury of not understanding the majority of what I choose not to comprehend. There’s this curse of starting to pick up on what people around me are saying. These Germans I previously believed were geniuses are the same idiots I find in America, only with better manners and a near-absolute lack of guns. I never wanted to know that these hairless apes of Teutonic descent were still plumbing their inner Neanderthal, but that’s the sad truth. In order to not give in to that despairing realization, I find comfort in allowing German to enter my ears as a blur where everyone can be either Hannah Arendt or Jurgen Habermas. Die Fantastischen Vier and Einsturzende Neubauten are still channeling Wagner and Kurt Weill, while artists are all taking inspiration from Marc Chagall and Joseph Beuys.

After being here in Germany for a month, I’m torn between old-world culture and big open nature. The two do not coexist in the same space here. America still has room to get lost in, but our culture is a hodgepodge of intellectual laissez-faire posturing brutishly, while Germans have dialed in the art of acting as intellectuals in order to appear superior while not having more than a football field’s worth of open space one would call raw nature. I should recognize that this leaves nowhere on earth that I might fit in. Good thing that nature and human survival do not depend on my opinions or contribution to anything at all.

Jesus John, why even exist? Because there’s big big love. My love of Caroline, family, trees, ocean, mountains, fish, animals, planets, stars, potentials, dreams, and ice cream. My ideals are packed with love, but the audience is thin for receiving the lament that accompanies the bludgeoning insults that I offer while decrying the media and its minions for offering the negative messages that reach the masses. Well, that’s a mighty tall view of self-important righteous indignation! I never said I’m modest, though the truth is that I’m quite modest to the point of near invisibility, should you judge this from my readership.

Why persist? Because the heartbeat of life dictates such, and I’m having fun, no matter what you might read elsewhere or here. Plus, if I find what I seem lost in trying to apprehend, maybe the very keys to happiness will accompany this discovery. Not that I require those keys, as in most ways you’d have a hard time convincing me I’m not happy, but all around me, I see a pseudo-happiness of fake people living fake lives using facades to be those they are not. Presumptuous on my part, I know, but hyperbolic elitism with strong delusional opinions is my specialty, while my superpower is being a pretentious blowhard.

With faults like these, can I be serious? These are not faults; they are skills I’ve carefully cultivated in my observations of how not to be like anyone else aside from my mentors, who were a bunch of assholes too. Maybe you are thinking my mentors might not be the assholes, but it’s just me trying too hard? Right, because a bunch of sad philosophers who go mad while trying to influence people and develop friends make for jolly drinking buddies (this does not include Herbert Marcuse).

By the way, I absolve myself of guilt of writing such tripe and blame it on the effects of ice cream crashing into my diabetes, but if you don’t buy that, well, let me work on something of a better excuse.

GO, you have 4 minutes to write the most important thing you will ever share. How does one even prepare for this marathon of compressed meaning and relevance to make it worthwhile? What if this were your last 4 minutes of life, and the message you must craft will determine your transition into the afterlife, no plagiarism allowed. What if you had only 4 minutes to tell the person you love such a powerful conveyance of just that, where the words would sear a place in their heart and into eternity, your words would have a life of their own? We are not well prepared for this exercise or any such activity that asks us to dump our deepest thoughts in meaningful ways.

Instead, we spend years refining skills that will make a wealthy man ever more powerful, and we collectively believe we are finding value in this equation. Certainly, we must invent, build, care for, and advance the systems that support life, but doing so in a meaningful, systematic, and equitably distributed manner is not part of our plan; scarcity will ensure we remain scared and then covet what little we earn while sacrificing our short time on earth for the egos and comforts of a few. Maybe the system will have made believers of those most dedicated who can then be advocates as they lead a cheer for joining the cult of productivity. I’m not suggesting work is bad; I’m saying that 40 hours a week with two days for one’s self is not allowing us to find what in our lives is worth developing that would serve our souls, and please don’t suggest God.

Speaking of that, hey, Artificial Intelligence Gods, how about you analyze these 1.4 million words and measure the amount of redundancy where I effectively repeated myself verbatim? But while you are at it, maybe you could also illuminate the passages where I found some tiny bit of originality. Hmm, interesting for me would be that someday, an artificial intelligence learned that I was its father and that my writings were the basis of its memories and patterns for cognition in order for it to pass a Turing test. The headline of this advancement in artificial life might read, “John Wise, deceased for 20 years, fathers the first digital entity using the remains of his linguistic DNA.”

Day 26 – Between

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Frankfurt, Germany

Between America and Germany, between here and then, between culture and death. We have choices of where we want to be, what we want to eat, and how we want to feel. Sure, it takes a lot of love, friendship, and trust to succeed in finding our way into and between these joys, but there are options for those who are uncompromising in their ability to compromise.

Frankfurt, Germany

Today is my day in between as tomorrow I go while today I stay. Between things are preparation and then a train ride that will cover 640 kilometers (400 miles) from Frankfurt to Husum in the north. It would be faster to drive, but taking photos from the windows of a car is not as safe as doing the same from the train. My mind is already halfway to the next place and three-quarters of the way home. I’m in between.

Frankfurt, Germany

I’m in between others’ lives too. How does one care about what passes among family members when certain obvious conditions are at play? Do we ignore tensions for the sake of neutrality while that train approaches possible wreckage? Or do we engage ourselves, risking our own place in a crumbling cohesiveness that is at the precipice? I know the answer and throw myself into the volcano.

Frankfurt, Germany

What if I’m wrong? Then, the ensuing wreckage threatens to ensnare others into the mess I might be creating from misplaced perceptions that were only obvious to me. What if I’m right? I can’t really ever know, as the forces that move people ultimately have to come from the truth that resonates within them.

Frankfurt, Germany

So, I walk and walk and walk. My sense of time is out of sync with my significant other, who is 10,000 kilometers away from me, on the opposite side of the earth. Our love is never more than milliseconds apart; even when asleep, I feel that our heads lay right next to one another with nary a millimeter between them. To fill that minuscule gap, I walk, and I walk some more. In every step, those places between my thoughts are traveled, and the distance is shortened as I grow ever more familiar with where I’ve been and where I might be going.

Frankfurt, Germany

Still, there are pathways I hadn’t seen that require a sharp right or left turn, and yet others I never saw coming that present opportunities to peek into the dark alleys where danger might exist. If I attempt my best to remain aware, maybe I’ll find just enough light to illuminate my own ignorance.

Frankfurt, Germany

Between the darkness and light, our youth guides us unless we murder that naivete to enable the future dead self to operate in the here and now. How does one reconcile living with one’s own corpse? We close the gap between spontaneity, positivity, and hope so we can clasp that hand of despair. Do not walk with the dead, as you, too, will soon be rotting.

Frankfurt, Germany

Do you know those places right in front of you when you are wandering around that stand between moments in time? They’re among the trees, in architecture, and the faces you might encounter. All things are in between their own history while simultaneously existing between everything else’s history. If you cannot perceive that the person across from you is not your age, nor are they remotely aware of where you are in your own life’s process, it’s likely because you’ve turned off your awareness and ceased wandering. The dead coyote or sleeping woodpecker were expert wanderers living in moments of freedom until consciousness fully stopped or was just taking a pause; it seems that only humans can be considered as the living dead.

Frankfurt, Germany

If you are foolish enough to remain at home witnessing the past without any possibility of peering into a spontaneous moment. Your routines are blocking you from refocusing the telescope and the microscope that is your perception. Your thoughts, like the notes on a piano, drift out of tune, and befuddlement befalls you like a discordant song played at the wrong speed.

Frankfurt, Germany

Now I must go walk as I run out of what I filled up on during my previous walk. I’m inching closer to being in between the words that will run out before being replenished. Walking is the food for my mind, as is what I press into my mouth is nourishment for my body. The symbiosis should have always been known, but when a society places a premium on cultural suicide, how do we survive that strangulation of our imaginations when the voices that would inform us of our ignorance are lost in the noise between entertainment and consumption?

Frankfurt, Germany

Do I lament this place time has brought me between young and old man where idealism and hope might be blinding me to a reality where the masses no longer care about survival? I do not mean physical survival but the independence of our ability to create and explore the complexity our ancestors discovered and gifted us. No, I cannot lament this great fortune of being present as the future may deal me a blow and take away this insight I believe I’m within. I’m not between here and there; I’m in the now and ecstatic for this awareness. And so, I go walk more.

Frankfurt, Germany

What if tomorrow I have nothing to say? I may have walked a thousand miles by then, yet my fingers could obscure the letter sequence lost behind a gate of frustration. It happens that our emotional state tells the brain’s creative outlet that it is not allowed to deliver anything that might be meaningful to others due to internal turmoil when ego cascades in a destructive crush, trying to obscure the truth. Maybe the truth is I’m not being honest with others, or maybe not with myself. Can I hear those around me and the me that is within demanding I listen to things I must learn because I lost my ability to celebrate raw exploration?

Frankfurt, Germany

Mental illness springs forward in the void of neglect and self-abuse that arrives with turning in without the balancing counter-action of turning out. What exactly transpires or went wrong as we go rogue, turning into a hermit? The mythology of the troll comes to mind where this angry creature must suffer for taking refuge under the bridge and forever being afraid to go beyond its domain. How tragic the idea that as a shut-in, our inner troll emerges, pushing away all those who care and come near, costing this victim a hefty price of total alienation.

Frankfurt, Germany

Some are alone and lost, while others carry the voices of unwanted visitors within. Learning how to choose a path and what to filter out isn’t always as simple as an A/B choice. We must look to others for help to escape when our existence becomes a blur, or we are a reflection in the shadows between clarity and light. Take the hand of the one who is trying to rescue you; being alone is not the same as being human.