5/17/09
I haven’t kept up with posting. I knew this would happen. It’s a good sign in disguise, though; I have been SO busy. When I arrived in Frankfurt Thursday morning I took a taxi to my hotel and only allowed myself a 3-hour nap. Forcing myself out of bed was NOT easy, but I wanted to spend some time looking around.
I went to a neighborhood recommended to me by a guy on the plane. It’s apparently a “hip local” area. Let me tell you, if this hood was hip, the Germans don’t know much about hip. There were far too many toddlers and geriatrics and not nearly enough trendy young Euros in leggings and genie pants. Nevertheless, it was fun to look around. There were lots of bakeries and ice cream shops, which means I was satisfied. Before I dove into the sweets, though, I wanted to have a taste of some real German food. So, I thought of the most German names I could imagine for a restaurant – hmmm… “Adolf” would be great…or maybe, “Wagner” – and went in search of an eatery with such an ideal German identity. Little did I know I was about to stumble upon the most quintessentially German restaurant of all time: Adolf Wagner.
Inside, I was fortunate enough to have a very friendly English-speaking waiter who recommended a hearty dish of pan fried pork cutlets, fried potatoes, a special cool German green sauce (a creamy vinegar and cilantro tasting mix), and a cup of famous German apple wine. I did a pretty thorough job on the meal. As I was eating a was listening to the folks at the table beside me talk, and quickly deciphered that they were speaking Spanish. I began nervously planning to approach them on my way out. I figured it would provide some much needed social contact as well as a warm up in Espanol.
My German meal
My Spanish friends...before they were my friends
I asked them “Somos de Espana?” and all four looked up at me with a surprised and embarrassed expression. I think that they had been talking about me when I was sitting alone at my table. They seemed very shocked I am traveling alone, and told me that they had no idea that a young American girl would speak Spanish. Afterwards, though, they were exceptionally friendly. They invited me to sit with them as they ate their dessert. They were on business from Madrid. There were three men and a woman. I only remember the names of Juan Carlos and Ricardo. After we ate, they walked with me to a phone shop to buy a charger for my cell phone. One of the men spoke German, too, so he was very helpful.
When we parted ways, I decided it was time to indulge in a tasty German ice cream. I found an irrisistably adorable shop called “Chocolate and Ice Cream” and B-lined to the frozen delicacies container. I went all out: a cone with a scoop of chocolate, bourbon vanilla, and banana, whipped cream, and melted white chocolate. I did not quite finish it, but rest assured, it was one of the most delicious desserts I have ever eaten.
Later I headed back to the hotel and walked to a restaurant next door called, get this, "El Paso". I think it was supposed to be Tex Mex, but, either way, I just wanted some wine. As I was drinking, some spirited Chinese people from a nearby table invited me to sit with them. I proceeded to order them appetizers (they didn't understand the English menu) and attempt to meet their challenges in beer chugging contests. The Chinese are very, very good a chugging beer. We had a pretty nice evening until one of the Chinese dudes stalked me up to my hotel room and banged on my door for an hour at 1 AM. That's about when traveling alone seems like a bad idea.
Guess who??
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