The day starts like our previous ones, up early with a cold gray sky peeking through the windows; when does winter end here? This will be the second time we’ve used our rather expensive rental car, although it was the cheapest we could find. A bit of warning to travelers to Europe: be sure you bring proof of international insurance coverage, add it to your policy, or just take the trains because it will cost you about $600 when you show up to pick up the car. As has been our routine, we go to see Jutta, but we’ll only visit once this day as we have a dinner date later in the day.

Having been away for so long, we have lost our ability to judge distances, and our memories tell us that Bad Soden is quite far away. Turns out that it’s really close. So close, in fact, that we arrive in town more than an hour early. No problem for us, we’ll just take a tour of the city center. Driving around to look for a starting point, we pass the old Badehaus (Bath House), and Caroline nearly yells for me to stop. Great, there’s a parking place right here in front of the park. The baths themselves appear to be gone, having been replaced with galleries. I say apparently because that half of the building is undergoing renovation, the other side is a library now. No matter, the grounds and buildings are beautiful. Not so nice is a fountain that offers some of the famous waters noted for their life-affirming qualities. Maybe others have a taste for heavily sulfured water, but my brain was having nothing to do with this idea of swallowing my small handful. Instead, instinct kicked in, forcing my mouth to disgorge the fetid-smelling, wretched-tasting stuff. I required a concerted effort to describe this without relying on vulgarities.

As we walked around, we noticed a trail going up a hillside, hoping for a view overlooking the town or even Frankfurt in the distance; we started the short hike upwards. At the top, there is an old brick tower, not of much purpose other than as a kind of monument, but to what we couldn’t figure out. We are also surrounded by trees, so there is no view to be had. Back down the hill, we passed the Badehaus on our way to the downtown area.

We never made it downtown. On the way, Caroline spots a sign pointing to a small castle. Turns out not to be much of a castle at all, but more a large home, though not without bragging rights. A sign on the building lets us know that König Wilhelm I. Von Württenberg slept here in 1852; a König is a King. Not very impressed, as we’ve both seen real castles, we head back across the park. Along the way, nearly fully surrounded by trees, I spot a small monument with a soldier on top that notes the men who died during World War I and II who had come from Bad Soden. Having spent enough time wandering about, it was time to make our date.

On the way into town, we passed the street Helga lives on, and within just a few minutes, we’re back at that corner and parking the car. Caroline’s godmother lives on the fifth floor in a building without an elevator, and she’s in her early 70’s. I was surprised how, after the first 20 minutes the conversation and rapport started to work, and the time between visits started being erased. Helga is a fiercely independent, very interesting, strong-minded woman. Back when Caroline was 16 she had told her godmother how she never wanted to be a workaholic like Helga. Almost 30 years later Caroline can easily consider this woman as one of the single greatest influences on her own life. Helga never married, but that wasn’t due to a lack of interest in this successful woman, she was busy with her career and seeing the world, which she is currently still actively doing. Our meeting had to be sooner than later, as this weekend she is heading to Spain for a week away from it all, and then in July, she’s off to Rome. Over a fantastic dinner of roast duck breast with mixed veggies and potatoes, we toasted our reunion and talked until it was close to midnight. During the night, we learned much about Helga we didn’t know, such as her 40th birthday, where she rented an entire riverboat, invited 150 of her closest friends, hired a band, and cruised the Main River as she danced into the beginnings of her 40s. With recommendations of which art exhibits to pay attention to during our visit to Frankfurt and her request that we try and meet another time before we return to the States, we wished each other good night. Walking down the five flights of stairs, Caroline and I were all smiles as we felt that Helga could still be a great role model and mentor to not only her goddaughter but to me, too.