Frankfurt and Frankfurters

Frankfurt, Germany

This will be Caroline’s first full day in Frankfurt, and although we talked way too late into the night with the Engelhardt’s we were up early and ready to go before anyone else. After a cup of coffee and some magnificent German wholegrain Brötchen, it was time to head down the road. The girls took a taxi to pick up their mom from her temporary lodging where she had stayed while Stephanie and Klaus had been visiting Katharina in New Zealand for the past month. Klaus was waiting for the tow truck to pick up his car, the battery died while they were away on vacation, and I was moving on foot from Heddernheim to Bornheim (a walk of about 5.5 miles or about 9km). Seems that this type of long walk across Frankfurt is unheard of, but following my two weeks of wandering around Berlin, Erfurt, Mühlhausen, and Bayreuth, I needed to keep up my momentum, if for no other reason than to work off my culinary indulgences that know few bounds.

Along the way, I found myself distracted by my thoughts about European integration, the formation of the EU, and its stability. Something that feels obvious in major cities that host larger, diverse populations where prosperity is being cultivated is that there is most likely an educated populace. Swimming with other well-educated people in these fishbowls, I feel that many are mostly unaware of how isolated their fellow citizens who live outside of the economically thriving business zones are. Prosperity to the person in the city feels natural and easily attained, but this blinds them to the reality of the person in the town just 30 miles away who doesn’t see an opportunity for themselves or their children. Knowing that their neighbors in the big city are doing better than them, they must find a scapegoat to explain their misfortune. The easiest person to victimize instead of taking the blame for neglecting one’s own failures is the foreigner who is being cast as the usurper of “all the good jobs.” Certainly, it is not the foreigner stealing anyone’s job, nor is it strictly the person who neglected their own relevance regarding job skills in a complex work environment; it is also the failure of government, business, and mass media to apprise the population of the importance of more than mindless bureaucracy, low-cost credit, and some new reality star.

Frankfurt, Germany

The reality is that those in the major population centers with greater earnings potential can afford greater comforts, but this comes at the expense of having free time. With this exchange of time for money to afford a higher cost of living, new clothes, and a car that better represents their status, along with eating out and requiring someone else to do their laundry and clean their home, there are opportunities for those who will wash dishes, care for plants, walk their dogs, and maintain the amenities of the services that are making living in an expensive location worthwhile.

Frankfurt, Germany

This situation, though, has transparent and opaque elements to those who are looking in from the outside. When visiting the city, they witness great luxury but do not see the hidden effort and so the simpleminded can only assume that this is a version of normal that is anything but to them. From here, resentment festers, and the serpent’s head of populism starts to stoke the fires of nationalism. If those who are benefiting the most from prosperity fail to understand this equation and fail to work on a solution to bring at least some small level of enlightenment to the masses, they will certainly pay the price for their arrogance in ignoring those capable of abhorrent destruction.

Here in Europe, there needs to be a growing awareness of understanding what’s being worked against European interests. Outside of diplomatic channels that happen between travelers and traders, America is pushing the dialog to the right while trying to influence Europe from within. The goal, in my opinion, is nothing less than the dissolution of the EU. Constant media chatter in the United States about the failures of Europe and the deep troubles of its immigration problems are near-daily fare to the American consumer of trash television. In contaminating the conversation and taking to the street level within communities, thus bypassing traditional media channels while simultaneously inferring that those sources of news are fake there is a nefarious effect of poisoning the intellectual and dialectic environment. This opens the door to America at least maintaining the 2nd largest economy as China moves into the position of the hegemon while hoping to see a fractured Europe hurting its own potential economic significance.

Frankfurt, Germany

Why is America acting in this capacity following over 80 years of global benevolence? The answer might be found along the lines that America has failed at acculturating itself to an advanced education system and a viable job training infrastructure. We exploit the fact that people need jobs and we force them to amass debt in order to obtain almost any type of skills for well-paying work that extends beyond the minimum wage. Having failed to invest in serious training and turning education into a profit center, we neglected to support intelligent, creative tradesmen who could help build infrastructure such as the one Germany has been creating for the last 70 years following World War II. The importance of this is evident from the fear being shown by certain powerful factions within the United States who are working to destabilize other players on the world stage so that it might use its vast military power and strength to wreak havoc on other lands thus allowing America to direct the political narrative and consequently the economic one also.

Europe is at a juncture in its history where creating a successful European Union, while tenuous and fraught with uncertainty, is an experiment that, for the sake of future generations, should be a goal worth striving for. The results have been seen by anyone visiting Europe in the past years; for example, look at the city I’m in today. Frankfurt is the first place on the continent that might be considered an American city. From the purely unscientific method of casual observation, there is a diversity here similar to that of Los Angeles. The language of Frankfurters is also very mutable, with people dropping German greetings in favor of Hi instead of Hallo and Yes instead of Ja. While they may not be fully aware of the particulars, it is the diversity of Frankfurt’s population that has created a food and cultural wealth that allows people of the region to experience other cultures while keeping their daily experience full of surprises, which translates into constant learning opportunities.

Frankfurt, Germany

Take Adem’s Fruchte-Bazaar on Eschersheimer Landstraße where this Turkish-owned fruit and vegetable shop features produce from Germany, Spain, Colombia, South Africa, France, Italy, Israel, Peru, New Zealand, Brazil, Costa Rica, South Africa, Mexico, Portugal, and Morocco. I have to wonder how many young Europeans are taking for granted their easy access to pomegranates from Peru, avocados from Mexico, or pineapple from Costa Rica. The argument against this type of trade doesn’t take into account the number of flights that are moving goods and passengers between countries that Europe is trading with, and so filling cargo holds with perishable food items where hard currency may be hard to come by to pay for advanced products from the EU is likely a great trade deal for its partners on other continents.

Walking across the financial capital of Europe I was passing the area that at one time was part of the American military properties that were scattered across Germany. A new building I couldn’t recognize from our visit last year drew my attention, and I was just about to photograph it when, on the assumption that a young man about to pass me might be a student there, I asked about this place.

Frankfurt, Germany

His name is Max, and he’s studying here at the Frankfurt School of Finance and Management to acquire his master’s degree. We ended up talking for nearly 20 minutes, and if I wasn’t running late to meet up with my mother-in-law I would have taken him up on his offer to give me a tour of the impressively large facility. He pointed out how the five main structures represent the five principal continents as they are counted in Europe (in America, the schools teach that there are seven). I asked him what he thought about living in Germany as a 23- or 24-year-old European. He’s optimistic about the future of Europe while simultaneously nervous about Brexit and the push from the United States to destabilize the process of European integration. Interestingly, he referenced his country not as Germany but as Europe. He is also aware of the fear coming from the elderly due to social changes and the risk of climate change. He recently listened to a talk from AFD (Alternative für Deutschland, a party with seats in the federal government, considered to be a right-wing extremist group aligned with ideas that were popular with Hitler et al.) at the school that was part reasonable and part fantasy as he feels the need to know all sides that are acting as forces upon the future. Max also spoke to me about his concern for the environment and how Greta Thunberg has inspired a young generation, especially the activism among young people participating in Fridays for Future.

Frankfurt, Germany

With that, I excused myself from this most gracious man and continued on my walk across Frankfurt. It seems appropriate that in this financial capital of Europe, the economy and its consequences should be on people’s minds and not only those who occupy ivory towers and the offices of government. Like our environmental issues, it is the inaction and laissez-faire attitudes of career workers who are more concerned with job security than the issues they are supposed to be focused on, but all too often, I encounter attitudes of people asking why any of this matters to me and what could they possibly do about the bulwark that is blocking our potential momentum? Defeatist attitudes are not the ones that throw off the tyranny of laziness and blind acceptance.

Jutta Engelhardt with Caroline and John Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

Time to turn off the two-hour pondering about the economy of Europe as I finally reach Saalburgstrasse in Bornheim. My mother-in-law, Jutta, looks great. While she goes to the assisted living place kicking and screaming against the idea when Klaus and Stephanie go on vacation, the socialization can be seen in her ability to be engaged instead of drifting into herself when she’s alone. The bad part of the experience is that Jutta sees the place as a kind of rehabilitation center and, as such, feels perfectly justified staying in bed and getting no exercise. Talking further with her is revealing as, in her eyes, this center is just shy of being a kind of prison for old people, but then she realizes that her vocalized disdain for “old” people should probably include herself.

Stephanie and Jutta Engelhardt with Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

So we took her out for a freedom walk in order to get some lunch and a coffee. From there, Stephanie had to take off in preparation for her return to work tomorrow, so the three ladies walked back to Jutta’s apartment while I finished some writing. Fifteen minutes later, I was knocking on the door. Stephanie was just leaving, and it wouldn’t be ten more minutes before Jutta was succumbing to the need for a nap.

Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

Finally, some private time for Caroline and me, and so we took a nice slow walk down the Bergerstrasse shopping area where Caroline’s impulse to browse was getting its first chance to find her happy place. Our first stop was a 1€ store that was tchotchke heaven, though they also had some great bargains, such as a blanket for only about $1. This shopping area of Frankfurt has always held special sway over Caroline as it was funkier than the commercial core that runs between Hauptwache and Konstablerwache.

Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

Sharing Spaghetti Ice is de rigueur when we are in Frankfurt, though we cheated on Eis Christina around the corner from where we used to live and went for convenience right here on Bergerstrasse. It was okay, but it wasn’t perfect like our old favorite.

Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

It rained a little bit, but not as bad as was expected or what the thunder portended. A stop at a paper shop let Caroline pick up a bottle of ink she uses for her fountain pen, and a visit to a sock store let her buy some striped socks she missed purchasing during our last visit. I also talked her into buying the Bembel-style socks that are fashioned after the Hessian stoneware jug used for serving Frankfurt’s famous apple wine. Speaking of apple wine, after collecting Jutta following her nap we took a walk around the corner to a spot called Apfelwein Solzer that had some good reviews for traditional German food.

Frankfurt, Germany

Blood sausage, mashed potatoes, and grilled onions may not be everyone’s idea of yummy German food, but maybe you’d be surprised if you gave it a try. Caroline was satisfied with her iron-rich dinner, while I needed that comfort food group known as fat that only comes with deep frying.

Frankfurt, Germany

I’m stuck on a green sauce kick that requires me to eat as much of the stuff as I can before leaving the Frankfurt area. Nearly every meal is also starting with Handkäse mit Musik which I’ve probably described half a dozen times before in my blog. A large schnitzel with a fried egg and bacon smiled at my heart as it invited itself into my arteries with gusto.

Entering Another Dimension

John and Caroline Wise

I’m at Sky Harbor Airport Terminal 4 as I write this. The flight I’m catching is taking me to Frankfurt, Germany. The selfie above was taken before my Uber driver pulled up to whisk me away. Caroline will follow my path in two weeks. You’ll learn more soon enough.

In and out of line, through security in seconds, and over to my gate when I come upon Cowboy Ciao, and I know what I’m having for dinner: the Stetson Chopped Salad. This salad is famous here in Arizona, but I thought it was gone as the location in Old Town Scottsdale is out of business. Now I’m at the gate and have minutes to go before we start boarding.

Tonight’s flight is about 11 hours non-stop to Frankfurt. I’m missing Caroline already; the separation anxiety is huge.

Condor Airlines to Germany

Thirty minutes out of Phoenix with only ten and a half hours to go. The flight crew said something about the evening meal and then another meal two hours before we land in Frankfurt. Seems like a late dinner and the next meal feels like an intrusion on dinner in Frankfurt. As is usual, I’m kind of pissy about being squeezed in here, though I should try to bring my focus to the incredible luck of being 33,000 feet above sea level where the air temperature eight inches to my left is -58 F. We are flying northeast at over 550 miles per hour, and I have a computer in front of me, a phone with a hundred hours of music on it in my pocket, and we successfully took off.

Words are being hard fought for, but I’m compelled to write as a large part of this journey into Europe earlier than Caroline is for me to exercise my word-smithing skills. Part of the struggle tonight is in part due to the fact that I’m writing at night and I never write at night. When we approach Frankfurt, it will be shortly after 8:00 a.m. Phoenix time, which is normally the hour I sit down to start writing, should I be so inspired. I foresee a problem with this arrangement as, by that time, I’ll likely be out of sorts from the shifted sleeping/night/day cycle that is about to happen.

I find that as I age, I’m dealing with jet lag differently than I did when I was younger. Though I might also suggest that when I was in my 20’s I didn’t much care about mental agility when I was flying over the Atlantic as I was consumed by the reality that I was either falling into Europe or returning to the United States. I worked on the adrenaline of being excited to travel; now, I look forward to the nuances of being in a place and finding appreciation in different ways than my young mind cared to consider.

We are crossing over the southeast corner of Utah and entering Colorado airspace. It’s 10:00 p.m. now so it’s as dark as a cave out there without a moon to illuminate the sky and outline of mountains. I’m guessing that we’ll start to encounter hints of daylight in about 3 to 4 hours. Luckily, we weren’t requested to shut the window coverings before we departed, so maybe we’ll get to experience the flight into the sunrise.

I’m taking a break in anticipation of my second dinner being delivered soon. I’ll offer a rundown of Condor’s premium meal upgrade after I’m done with it.

A mere two hours into the flight, I’m sleepy; of course, last night’s restless sleep, and now, with my stomach full, I have some food-induced coma waiting to happen. To fight the drowsiness, I’m listening to Rammstein, hoping some heavy driving beats and grinding guitars will help push me to stay awake.

My meal was okay, with the appetizer ending up as the best part of the presentation and quality. Just as last year, I had a shrimp and smoked salmon salad, while this time, the entree was a chicken teriyaki that was what it was. Some bread, cheese, and a dessert rounded things out while a KitKat was sent back. Coffee is now in front of me, trying to fight my inclination to drift into a nap.

In between trying to write, eat, and stay awake, I’ve been reading The Soundscape by R. Murray Schaffer. It’s too early in the book for me to offer much of an opinion yet. On the map, we are aiming for Winnipeg, while to our east is Fargo, North Dakota. I’d say more than half the passengers are asleep. The debate if I should try to get an hour’s nap is going on inside of me as I look at the global map in my seat back and see that dawn should start in about two hours. Meanwhile, Mein Herz Brennt, and so do my eyes.

Flying over the Atlantic

Four and a half hours in this jet, and we are still over North America. The dawn arrived an hour ago, and the first rays of the sun are now bouncing off the ice crystals on my window. I don’t know who closed the shades as I was certain I was never really asleep, but whoever reached right by me to close them did so so stealthily that I never stirred. The cramp of trying to sleep has gotten the best of me, and I’m hoping Petite Meller is energetic enough to supply me with a jolt of caffeinated sounds.

Only a bit more than six hours left before we land. That sounds like forever right now. If I could leave the window shade open, I could be hopeful that the daylight would help get my brain thinking daytime thoughts, but the majority of my air companions are sound asleep.

From the book The Soundscape, “Hearing is a way of touching at a distance, and the intimacy of the first sense is fused with sociability whenever people gather to hear something special.” (page 11) This was an aha moment for me as I’d never considered just how effective music is at touching the inside and outside of the body and how at concerts, the movements of the crowd create a swarm of syncopated sensuality and community. How might I one day create music if I knew that my ultimate goal was to reach out and stroke the listener with my sounds?

The eye points outward; the ear draws inward. Is everyone looking and failing to listen? I often am drawn to looking after hearing the absurd where I’d like to recoil. It was pointed out in The Soundscape that the eye has the ability to turn off the visual by closing a flap of skin; the ear has no such mechanism. I recently bought the best earplugs I could find to turn off the outside world as the noise level of banality is becoming overwhelming. What is the negative impact of those who I’m forced to draw inward due to their proximity?

Flying into Germany

As I head into Europe, I go to listen. I go to listen to myself, though, not to listen to others. I’m going for music and instruments that make the sounds I desire to hear. I want to listen to history and listen to the whispers of the prayers that echo out of the past in the cathedrals. I do not wish to listen to the sound of war or death that has plagued the continent but to find myself at peace. The language barrier helps erect a sound fence as my primitive German skills make it easy to blur the sound of voices.

Funny that this is the first time in all of my flying years that I’ve been listening to music nearly non-stop since we departed some six hours ago. The isolation has allowed me to withdraw from the other passengers without the hope of finding some random conversation. I’m not tuning in the coughing, snoring, crying, or rustling of papers, blankets, or the seats when people use them as leverage to push their obesity out of the chair. Everyone moves by in silence; the drink and food carts glide by with bottles releasing their pressure upon opening for others, but not me.

It’s 4:45 in the morning, and the majority of passengers continue to sleep. We are under three and a half hours until we land, where all of these well-rested people will land at 5:00 in the afternoon and will likely not be very tired come 11:00 p.m. I, on the other hand, am exhausted and hope to pass out around 10:00 p.m. central European time.

Our place on the earth is approaching a point over the Atlantic south of Reykjavik, Iceland. It’s much colder out here at -80 F, and we’ve slowed down to 490 miles per hour. While we could have maintained our speed eastward, I’m guessing that arriving early is not an option when gate space is such a limited commodity at this incredibly busy airport. I peek out the window, and I’m momentarily blinded by the broad daylight being reflected off the clouds below us. Inside the plane, it is still the middle of the night. Too bad there’s not a cabin on board for those of us who’d like to transition to the day earlier.

Frankfurt, Germany

From touchdown to customs, fetching my bag, withdrawing some Euros from an ATM to boarding a train to take me to the Frankfurt Bahnhof, where I walked out the front of that massive building and a few blocks east to check into my former house of prostitution now remodeled as a Ramada Hotel; this was all done in less than 90 minutes.

John Wise in Frankfurt Germany

It’s 19:19 as I sit down on a wall at Hauptwache to do what I should have been doing 35 years ago: I’m writing. The punks are long gone, though a few homeless people are nearby as though they never left. It’s a bit cold, and I’m hungry, but I had to stop right here across from Hauptwache Cafe to sit on this particular wall because back when I first came to Frankfurt with the U.S. Army, I wouldn’t dare sit here. The soldiers are gone while, in some way, they were replaced by Chinese tourists.

Black is still the primary fashion choice, and it doesn’t much feel like anyone has stopped smoking, though I’m spotting more vapes than on previous visits. Strange to think that nearly 35 years ago, there was no internet, cell phones, unified Germany, the EU, a common currency, digital cameras, Starbucks, or bike-sharing services. While much has changed, I’m struck that, in many ways, nothing is really different from back then. Let me correct that; diversity is greater today.

Frankfurt, Germany

Crazy is alive and well here, with my stroll over to Konstablerwache not failing to disappoint me. The only difference now is in regards to the number of people talking on phones with Bluetooth devices plugged discretely in their ears, allowing them to seamlessly blend in with those who are simply talking to themselves.

Eating at Ebbelwoi Restaurant in Frankfurt, Germany

From the end of this shopping pedestrian zone, I turned south towards the Main River, where I walked into Sachsenhausen, intent on having some traditional German dinner. Apfelwein-Wirtschaft Fichtekränzi is amazing, but tonight, it is amazingly busy, and impossible to get a table. Next door is Gaststätte Atschel, who won’t be able to seat me this evening, even though I’m just one person. Lucky me, as Ebbelwoi Unser said, they’d squeeze me in. Fifteen minutes later, I’m at a table with eight other diners.

Handkäs mit Musik is a Frankfurt tradition of a cheese that is marinated in vinegar and oil and served topped with onions and caraway seeds. The “joke” of “mit Musik” is that by eating this concoction, you’ll be making music later. While I was eating, an old friend answered yesterday’s question I texted him about restaurants to eat near the main train station; he’s too late on his reply for me to benefit from his answer. He’s surprised when I tell him where I am in Sachsenhausen and we agree to meet after I finish.

My main course was two schnitzel cutlets served with Bratkartoffeln (fried potatoes) and, of course, green sauce. Better known as Frankfurter Grüne Soße, this regional treat has grown in cult status, with festivals now celebrating it; I cannot come to this city without indulging. I hope that I will never grow bored of eating here.

Frankfurt, Germany

The friend who contacted me was Olaf Finkbeiner. He’d asked if I would arrive at our meeting point in Elbestrasse by train or taxi; I told him I would be walking. He thought me crazy, but to me, Frankfurt is a tiny place easily walkable. A sunset walk along the Main was far more interesting on my first evening here than getting on a subway. Along the way, Olaf let me know that Plank Bar was closed; he’d forgotten it was Sunday night.

Olaf and John Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

We walked back towards the Hauptbahnhof and went to O’Reilly’s Irish Pub, which might not have been the best place to meet, but it was open. Crowded and loud were the negatives; meeting with Olaf after not seeing him for the past five years made up for any inconvenience. Talking about technology and politics for the next couple of hours went by incredibly quickly before I cajoled this guy into stopping for a selfie to prove to Caroline that Olaf and I had indeed met. We agreed to get together once again after Caroline arrives, and with that, I dragged my jetlagged and fatiguing self back to my former whore house, where once again, I was paying for the opportunity to spend some time in one of these tiny rooms.

Engelhardts – Europe Day 21

Dawn in Frankfurt, Germany

The clock reads 4:45 in the morning and we’ve already been awake 30 minutes now. While we went to sleep at midnight, Katharina arrived home after we had already gone to bed; how she’s awake right now is beyond me. And then I remember, “We, too, were young once and could just keep on going.”

Dawn in Frankfurt, Germany

When you live in the inner city of Frankfurt, this is an unknown site as the narrow streets and compact structure of the architecture don’t offer many panoramic views of the sky. Katharina’s idea to go out early to photograph the rising sun at daybreak was a perfect way for us to begin our last full day in the Frankfurt area.

Sunrise in Frankfurt, Germany

And there it is, our sun. It’s almost a sad thought to think of how few times in my ten years living here that I saw this sight while in America, I’ve seen it hundreds of times. Back in the years, I was living here, we would often go to sleep well after the sun had already risen and nearly cursed it for waking the birds while we tried to get some sleep after an impossible night of hard partying. You might say that in those closing years of the ’80s into the mid-’90s, I was more interested in the artificial sunrise brought on by a kind of inebriation that lent itself to also witnessing a menagerie of fantastical life and mathematics brought to spatial illumination out of the dark recesses of a curious mind.

Caroline Wise, Katharina, and Klaus Frankfurt, Germany

Smiling faces on an early Saturday morning shortly after sunrise must certainly be one of the better ways to start the day.

Caroline Wise and Katharina in Frankfurt, Germany

This is Katharina Engelhardt with her aunt, Caroline Elisabeth Wise. We first met this somewhat shy, seriously nerdy young lady just five years ago as she began her teen years. A couple of years ago when Caroline paid a visit to the Engelhardt’s to celebrate her mom’s 80th and her sister’s 50th birthdays, I wasn’t able to attend. This visit was in honor of our niece’s 18th birthday. At this point in her life, she has as much passion for horses as she seems to have always had; the matter of fact is that the family makes time, nearly if not every year, to take Katharina on a vacation that centers on horses just for her. She’s been picking up on crafting projects with the help of her mom, Stephanie, and photography from her dad, Klaus. Katharina has also taken a liking to judo, which is a passion of her father. This coming year, she’ll be making the choice about what to do regarding university; I’m guessing it will be something science-related. While she’s already been to America on a school-sponsored trip to New York, she’s yet to visit us out west, though I think that day will come somewhere in the not-too-distant future.

Frankfurt, Germany

I thought I had the fortitude to just plow into the day after our photography outing, but NO WAY. Klaus, Katharina, Caroline, and I, in agreement that a half-hour nap would be helpful, all crashed for a couple of more hours of serious sleep. Awake for the second time, Klaus headed out for some shopping while Caroline and Stephanie were going to head out for some shopping, too. As for me, I wanted to catch up on some writing, so I opted to stay put until I learned that the girls were heading to Konstablerwache for the Saturday open-air market. I love this place, and missing one last visit would have been too much to endure, so along I went. Maybe you noticed I didn’t mention Katharina? She’s still out of commission and sleeping hard.

Frankfurt, Germany

The mushroom man nearly tricked me into thinking he wasn’t here today because when we’d been here a couple of weeks ago with Angela, I’d seen his stand and, more importantly, his giant wok of simmering mushrooms, but we’d already been grazing and had no appetite when we’d caught sight of his stand. Not seeing him on a quick scan of the market, I’d already had some white asparagus from one vendor and a potato sausage from another on Stephanie’s recommendation. It was just after that I saw his food stand and ordered a bowl of mixed mushrooms cooked in an herb sauce. His mushroom concoction is a melody of everything you see in this photo. Seeing how I hate mushrooms, I walked over to the nearby McDonald’s and got a Big Mac. JUST KIDDING!

Frankfurt, Germany

Converging back in Heddernheim, we collected Katharina and grabbed the next train to the Hauptbahnhof to get on an S-Bahn out to Höchst. Seeing that TGV train up on the schedule leaving in 3 minutes for Paris has me dreaming of another trip to Germany. It’s a 4-hour trip on a high-speed train across the German and French landscape and only about $110 round-trip for the journey. Come to think about it, we’ve never been to the Channel Tunnel either. Travel fever is in full effect.

Hoechst, Germany

We are in Höchst, which is a little village on the Main River. We have nothing really in mind more than a lazy day on the river, spending some time together. Okay, well, I have something in mind; I’m craving some soft-serve ice cream really badly.

The Engelhardt's and Caroline Wise in Hoechst, Germany

The Engelhardt’s seem to know where we are going, Caroline and I are just going with the flow. Sometimes it’s great to not be the people in control and be able to find surprises in where we end up.

Hoechst, Germany

Walking along, taking in the sights, not in a rush to get anywhere.

Hoechst, Germany

This is my new love, abandoned steps. Sadly the last ones I found were two weeks ago in Como, Italy. Does anyone know of a guide to abandoned steps across Europe?

Hoechst, Germany

What time is it? It’s snack time on the Main. Hint: Main, as in the river we are sitting next to that rhymes with time!

The Engelhardt's and Caroline Wise in Hoechst, Germany

We needed that energy refueling stop as our adventure was taking us over the river. This photo attests to the fact that we made it to the other side. How grueling is the crossing, you ask? Not as bad as I’d imagined, as the 1€ per person ferry made it safely across in only about five minutes. Any longer, and I was certain the sea monsters and piranha-infested waters of this Rhine River tributary would have been the end of us.

Hoechst, Germany

We walked around a bit over here and dreamed of one day bringing a bike on the train to this point on the Main River and riding it back to Frankfurt. Turns out that since we left, there has been quite a bit of work done on greenbelts and footpaths dedicated to traffic other than by speeding cars and trains.

Hoechst, Germany

We took up some refuge from the Sun and sat under a tree in the grass to watch and listen to the sounds of life, river, wind, rustling leaves, and the occasional bee out on a pollinating nectar collection journey.

Katharina in Hoechst, Germany

While we sat in the grass, Katharina was riverside with one of the horses from her collection of hundreds of model horses. She’s become quite adept at capturing horses from her collection in settings that, at first glance, appear to be real horses in their natural environment. Maybe she’ll share a couple in the future, and I can make a blog post of some of my favorites.

Hoechst, Germany

This bridge crosses the Nidda River which is also the beginning of the Frankfurt Greenbelt that allows visitors to walk or ride their bikes on about 70 kilometers of paths through the region to and around Frankfurt. More information can be found at Frankfurt.de under the heading Greenbelt; there’s also a free map at the Tourism Office and a free app for your phone. The Frankfurt Greenbelt was crowned in 2014 as the “Most beautiful hiking trail in Germany.”

Hoechst, Germany

Thunder was being heard in the distance, so we started walking in the direction of the train station, but not before we made another pit stop for replenishment. My mint-ginger iced tea was great, but it was Caroline’s rhubarb soda that won the day for yummy.

Hoechst, Germany

Reaching the train stop just in time to take cover as the drops came down hard and huge. Still no soft serve.

Frankfurt, Germany

While we had the chance for a nap earlier, I could feel the exhaustion of a vacation that had been lived large bearing down on me, and seeing I wasn’t getting any closer to finding a reviving cone of soft serve; I had to opt for the next best thing; coffee. Again, no paper cups for the landfill. Across Europe, we’ve noticed that straws and paper cups are not so quickly handed out. While we stopped for my coffee, we also had another mission on our way to our dinner reservation, but Stephanie had something else to tend to, so we agreed that we’d accompany Klaus and Katharina to look for some travel gifts that Katharina would offer her host on an upcoming trip that sees her leaving a day after we do.

Frankfurt, Germany

With gifts in the bag, we took the train to a nearby stop for the walk to the Zur Golden Kron restaurant. Since the last time we ate here, the establishment has changed ownership and now features an Austrian-influenced menu.

Caroline Wise and The Engelhardt's in Frankfurt, Germany

Stephanie finally joins us and we are ready to start the indulgence of our evening meal.

Caroline Wise and Stephanie in Frankfurt, Germany

Except that before the food can be delivered a torrential downpour inundated the place. For a while, we thought we might be able to hold out as the umbrellas over our table were effective in keeping us dry as others scurried away. That didn’t last long, as though it were testing us, the rain came down harder yet. We were brought umbrellas so we could dash for the dining room. While our meals were delayed as they were for everyone, as about 30 of us had to be resat, the food was exceptional, and we’d love to return for another meal at Zur Golden Kron.

Graffiti in Frankfurt, Germany

It’s difficult to say goodnight to Frankfurt and even harder to say goodbye. There was a point early in our travel planning when Caroline asked why we don’t just spend two weeks in Frankfurt and I insisted that I wanted to go other places. I can’t really tell you if I’m in love with some kind of nostalgic ideal or if the city really is imbued with the qualities I want to believe it is. What I do know is that I feel at home here more than anywhere else I’ve ever been.

I’ve been back to Buffalo, New York, where I was born, a number of times, and while I enjoy my visits and tastes of Buffalo, it is a sad and depressing place in so many ways that are complicated by the issues of racism that are alive and well. While racism is endemic in almost all economically depressed locations in America, it is especially tragic in Buffalo as this historically important place was once one of America’s most important and successful cities.

On numerous occasions, I’ve returned to Los Angeles, where I spent my teenage years, and while I still love L.A. in so many ways, it will never be a city with a character or thought of as a destination because it is 1000 destinations with myriad characters. Southern California is truly a melting pot, but it is too big to ever feel like you’ve been there.

Arizona, where I currently live, is sterile with an extra heaping spoon of conformity thrown on top. Culture, entertainment, intellectual rigor, gourmet cuisine, bustling nightlife, none of those figures in the makeup of the greater Phoenix area. People will live there for a lifetime and never travel more than 30 miles from their homes. This is the 6th largest city in America, but it might as well be Anywhere 100 miles from Anything.

America is at a crossroads where the only thing it is able to celebrate is its love of sports and celebrity, along with its dislike of immigrants, government, and opinions that don’t fit their own. And that’s what I have to return to tomorrow. On the other hand, America is vast and is not fully baked. I do know we have the ability to change, just as the Germans who threw off the yoke of Nazism and modernized their society did over the last 70 years. America will have to throw off the yoke of Stupidity and modernize our education. Maybe this is why Trump and Putin are both so influential in their respective countries right now; they both have an aging, uniform, under-educated population that is too big to ignore and too set in their ways to adapt to the changes our modern economies have created.

Thanks to the Engelhardt’s, Frankfurt, and the rest of Europe for staying up late, keeping us entertained, learning, and smiling.

Frankfurt – Europe Day 20

Highway Vignettes Frankfurt, Germany

Time to return our rental car this morning. The photo I’m sharing here is of three of the four vignettes we were required to purchase as we drove across a small corner of Europe. The top orange sticker is from Switzerland, below that is Slovenia, and at the bottom is the vignette from Austria. Hungary used an electronic version. Vignettes are a taxing system to gain permission to drive the roads of a specific country. The Swiss one was our most expensive at 40 Euros (about $48), and while it was good for a year, we only used it for half a dozen hours as we drove from Colmar, France, to Como, Italy.

My thoughts on the vignettes are that they are a good idea. Do I love the cost? Not really, but I understand the idea behind them. I’m already spending at least $25 a day for a rental car, plus about $8 a gallon for gas. I filled up in France and didn’t need gas again until we were halfway across Italy. Without the vignettes, I would have crossed through Switzerland using their roads for absolutely free. I used a winding mountain pass over the Alps and tunnels and pulled over on gravel shoulders a number of times, thus adding to the wear and tear that a Swiss citizen will have to repair and be compensated for. While it could be argued that this cost was exorbitant, I cannot agree; we ended up spending about $8 an hour to pass through the Alps or about what we’d pay to watch a blockbuster movie per hour. Thanks for the privilege, Switzerland, and for being smart about this. The truth is that we are already spending $200 – $300 a day just to be in Europe, so this is of little consequence in the scheme of things.

Frankfurt, Germany

Frankfurt is in a massive building expansion with cranes dotting the landscape, just as we saw five years earlier during that visit. The area where these high-rise apartments are going up was an industrial area full of train tracks. Caroline had a job with a company there when I met her. Today, there is a luxury mall where we returned the rental car in their parking garage maze, a bunch of hotels, and blocks of new apartments that honestly are seriously visually unappealing.

Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

Rather than catch a subway right away, we decided to walk to the Hauptbahnhof (main train station) to see what was in this neighborhood besides construction. The area is culturally diverse, and it shows up in the restaurant offerings from half a dozen countries, many from outside the European Union. While things are not gentrified yet, it seems that the writing is on the wall where improvements to one area spill into the adjoining area, and soon rents are going up, and some of the diversity is pushed further out along with some of the charm.

Frankfurt, Germany

Reaching the Hauptbahnhof, we needed to get underground a couple of floors to wait for the U5 subway/tram that travels in the direction of Preungesheim. Our stop is the fifth one, where we exit at Glauburgstraße, our old neighborhood.

Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

We’ll just go ahead and do this backward and start with a sweet. Of course, we had to visit Eis Christina on Eckenheimer Landstraße, our favorite place in the universe for “Spaghetti Ice.” This strange-sounding concoction is actually a dollop of fresh whipped cream in the bottom of the bowl topped with vanilla ice cream pressed through a device that pushes out what looks like spaghetti, which is then covered with strawberry sauce (looks a lot like tomato sauce, huh?) and finally, it’s topped with grated white chocolate for that authentic Parmesan cheese appearance.

John Wise Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

Around the corner are Weberstraße and Neuhofstraße. About three car lengths north of the intersection is the first place Caroline and I ever kissed, and that’s where we are standing for this selfie. It was at 5:00 am on a Sunday morning, the 18th of June, 1989. In a moment, I was smitten with a Frankfurter in Frankfurt. Today, I am still fully taken by this beautifully cute, curious, empathetic woman who helped me refine my enjoyment of life and shared a million incredible experiences that have made our lives far better together.

Pizza from Frankfurt, Germany

Walking down Nostalgiastraße, the experience wouldn’t be complete without a stop at Olbia Pizzeria. We enjoyed takeout from this tiny neighborhood joint for years, often two or three times a week. Today as we were already half-full from the Spaghetti Ice, we split a pizza.

Frankfurt, Germany

Today is Caroline’s and my day to do what we want in Frankfurt. From lunch in our old neighborhood, we walked towards Saalburgstraße to visit Jutta for one last time during this vacation. The importance of this particular sign is that it is from Rapp’s which is a local juice company from just north of Frankfurt. During the ten years I lived in Germany, I was in love with not only their orange juice but things like blood orange and passion fruit juice too. Looking up the company as I write this, I see that they now feature rhubarb juice; if only we’d known this earlier in our visit.

Frankfurt, Germany

Caroline’s favorite “graffiti” in Frankfurt that we’ve passed many a time while visiting Jutta (Caroline’s mom).

Jutta Engelhardt and Rita in Frankfurt, Germany

On the left, as many of my readers already know, is my mother-in-law Jutta Engelhardt. On the right is Rita, who is one of her “caregivers” visitors who help ensure Jutta stays engaged and able to live on her own as long as possible. We heard that Rita has learned much of Caroline and me, along with Jutta’s ten trips to the United States. It was a pleasure meeting this outgoing and happy lady who is fond of sharing her time with people who can benefit from her smiling face.

Caroline Wise and Jutta Engelhardt in Frankfurt, Germany

After a couple of hours, it was time to bid adieu to Jutta, give this sweet old lady one more hug for the road and leave her with wishes that we should see her again in a couple of years.

Leaving Jutta is bittersweet and mixed with many emotions. We can never give her enough time on our visits, though we are very well aware that her precious time may be shorter than our own. This impulse to shove another lifetime of great memories into a brief moment while on vacation is futile, and yet we suffer from the guilt of having to walk away. Maybe because we are so far away and not able to visit spontaneously it makes our togetherness all the more important and meaningful.

Frankfurt, Germany

From Jutta’s, we walk over to the Bergerstraße, grabbing a coffee along the way before boarding the U4 subway at Bornheim Mitte in the direction of Konstablerwache. Here and in more than a few of the subway tunnels, I’m amazed at the great selection of bread, fruits, vegetables, and other goods that are so conveniently available.

Frankfurt, Germany

We could stay on the train and arrive quicker at our destination, but we are trying to milk every moment we can in taking in Frankfurt from all angles. This is Zeil, that runs from Konstablerwache just past Hauptwache, which is out in front of us somewhere.

Red Currants in Frankfurt, Germany

Along the way down Zeil was a temporary fruit stand with a lady selling various berries. The ones I’m most interested in are these red currants. While we’ve indulged in our fair share of Sachertorte, apple strudel with vanilla sauce, vanilla ice cream with hot raspberries, and even a visit for some spaghetti ice, we’ve also made sure to eat anything and everything that comes paired with red currants. Maybe because of the tart flavor, red currants are not popular in the United States, or we don’t know where to look.

Frankfurt, Germany

Walked over by what used to be one of my favorite English bookstores in Frankfurt; it’s now a Five Guys Burger joint. Around the corner from there, we saw that Cookies Nightclub is still in business. Back in the day, I saw Nitzer Ebb, Happy Mondays, and Steve Albini, among others, perform here. On one occasion while out on tour with Psychic TV, I ran into Caroline at around 3:00 in the morning here and met Angela for the first time. This was two months before Caroline and I would fall in love.

Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

We are doing something very out of the ordinary today. Caroline is trying on new clothes with full consideration of potentially buying stuff. Caroline rarely shops for new clothes, opting instead to wear things for years or when need be shopping at discount and second-hand stores. Shopping at a fashionable brand boutique like Gudrun Sjödén, where we are, is exceptional. While this wasn’t one of the pieces she ultimately left with, I have to admit that I was pleasantly surprised that we had bagged up at least half a dozen things that got pushed into the buy column and out of the uncertainty of I’ll-think-about-it column that is the norm.

John Wise and Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

After having Chinese tourists use us as props, it was our turn to use them in the same way. Their enthusiasm is infectious, and I only wish they could break out of their group clustering more often and engage with others.

Frankfurt, Germany

If you know Frankfurt, you know that we are crossing the Main River, and if we were just shopping near Hauptwache, then we must be heading towards Sachsenhausen. Believe it or not, we had quite the torrential downpour while we were in Gudrun Sjödén, but by the time Caroline had tried on more than 40 different items, that storm had come and gone. Good thing, too, as we do not have umbrellas with us.

Note: we brought our rain jackets from the States with us, and while they were great on the Colorado River in late fall, on the Alsek River in the Yukon in early summer, or on the Oregon Coast on cold rainy days, they were a horrible idea to bring to Europe on hot and humid days where we would have felt more like tightly wrapped sausages on a steaming table than would have been comfortable. We must bring umbrellas on our next visit.

Frankfurt, Germany

Looking back at the way we came, you can see a fraction of the many locks attached to Eiserner Steg. The “Iron Bridge” was built for foot traffic back in 1911/12 and today is as important to the skyline of Frankfurt as any of the churches or high rises.

Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

On our way down the world’s narrowest sidewalk to find the place we hope to have dinner at. Just kidding about the width of the sidewalk; we’ve been on narrower.

Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

Dinner in Frankfurt is nothing without a glass of apfelwein (apple wine), known as “Ebbelwoi” in the Frankfurt dialect, unless you are like me and don’t drink alcohol, and then a bottle of sparkling water will do. We were lucky to show up at the right moment and get a spot at a table as within minutes of our arrival, the place was packed.

Frankfurt, Germany

As I said, every spot is taken. Even under the tables, there are some well-behaved dogs down there.

Frankfurt, Germany

Green sauce is one of the signature dishes of Frankfurt and you can bet that we started by sharing a Handkäs mit Musik before the main course. The tastes of Germany never get old, and I’ll miss these dishes when we go home. Tonight’s last meal of the day was at Fichtekränzi established in 1849. The word fichtekränzi is the wreath of plaited spruce branches that signaled apple wine is served here.

Frankfurt, Germany

Beautiful graffiti rendition of Frankfurt!

Frankfurt, Germany

I suppose it’s not just the Frankfurt skyline that I’m in love with, but maybe it’s also the idea of all that I understand that surrounds this city historically, culturally, and intellectually. While it is not the seat of political power, Frankfurt is the seat of economic power and is in a role I don’t think it’s aware of; I believe it also plays a large role in the image of who a German is. Thirty-three years ago, when I first stepped foot in the city, it was cold and efficient. Back then, it had just barely recovered from the devastation of World War II that had concluded 40 years prior. As Caroline was growing up, she still saw the scars on Frankfurt, where the war had ruined places that were not quite finished being rebuilt. Now, more than 70 years after the war, the Frankfurters are a different people. They are not so cold and grim. There is color and laughter. The place is more casual, and service is often offered with a smile. Being in this city today, while comparing it to what it was in 1985, we are still in a melting pot of cultures, except now it doesn’t feel polarized and bitter.

While this trip didn’t take us to a dozen German cities like our visit five years ago, there is a different vibe in Frankfurt than the more stodgy, stuck-in-the-past Karlsruhe that was one of the other German cities we visited on this trip. This city shook the music world and brought a new generation to the dance floor with an impact that had implications on a global scale. Tonight in Frankfurt am Main, the city will celebrate Night of Science at the University Campus on Riedberg from 10:00 p.m. until early Saturday morning, with people from across the region attending talks and sessions about various disciplines across the sciences. The train system will be running over the wee hours to accommodate those who want to participate with the benefit of public transportation.

Frankfurt is the birthplace of Goethe, Henri Nestlé, Anne Frank, Theodor Adorno, and even American entrepreneur Peter Thiel. The city also can brag about famous residents over the years and centuries who called this home, such as Charlemagne, Arthur Schopenhauer, Max Beckmann, Max Horkheimer, Oskar Schindler, and Jürgen Habermas. Frankfurt has a long history of cultural and intellectual importance from the time of the Holy Roman Empire up to pissing off Otto von Bismarck regarding Frankfurt’s “Democratic spirit and freedom of the press” and more recently with The Frankfurt School of Critical Theory making large impacts on Western thinking.

A smarter plan feels needed, one that would better organize human potential than the laissez-faire methods that have gained so much popularity. A new outlook on education, culture, business, and finance is in order, and I, for one, vote for Frankfurt to lead such an effort. Frankfurt should take inspiration from its diversity, curiosity, and long intellectual history and put it to some good.

Frankfurt, Germany

Katharina had asked during the day if we’d be interested in waking up at 4:30 in the morning for a sunrise photography mission on a nearby overlook. Of course, we said yes. In order to try and get some sleep, we are leaving the inner city and heading back to Heddernheim.

Frankfurt, Germany

Waiting for one of the subways that will take us to the Zeilweg stop, we check out the posters that tease us about some of the events going on in the region over the next month or so. Events include literary, opera, stage plays, festivals, concerts, history exhibits, art shows, and everything in between.

Frankfurt, Germany

Our day of indulgently exploring Frankfurt together is nearly over. This is the view from the Zeilweg tram stop, where just ahead is the little turn-off between the bushes that leads us to the Engelhardt’s home. The sound of the trains pulling in and braking and then accelerating as they pull away will remain with us until we fall asleep. It is a welcome sound reminding us at midnight, when we finally head upstairs to get some sleep, that the people of Frankfurt are going home while others are going out as Germany moves forward on trying to be a positive catalyst for societal change instead of blundering ahead as a bulwark of blind adherents of conformity.

Randomness – Europe Day 5

Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

Once again, on the way to breakfast with Jutta. These walks are telling the truth that’s a bit difficult to come by from Jutta herself, as her stamina is pretty soft, and these walks are tough on her. In conversation, she claims to walk to the park and the market all the time, but if she did, these little jaunts around the corner wouldn’t be so taxing. The truth is that dementia is taking its toll, and the idea that my mother-in-law will ever again be ready to rise to the challenge is sadly needing to become a long-forgotten memory. Good thing is that the three of us have built so many memorable times together that her long decline will have to be pushed out of our memories after she’s gone so we can relish the brilliant moments.

"No Nazis" sticker in Frankfurt, Germany

While signs of white supremacists are evident, especially with people’s clothing and tattoos, there are many signs across the city of an active community that is against intolerance. The sticker “Stadt Fur Alle” means “City For Everyone.”

Caroline Wise at Wolle Roedel Yarn Store in Frankfurt, Germany

This is the look of yarn-buying confusion where Caroline considers the right or left hand. Instead of regular yarn, she opted for reinforcement yarn that is used for strengthening heels in socks she is working on.

Kleinmarkthalle in Frankfurt, Germany

The Kleinmarkthalle “Small Market Hall” in Frankfurt, between the main shopping street and City Hall, has always been a favorite destination for Caroline and me. Back when we lived here, this was usually our last stop before going on a road trip. I think part of the appeal of markets like this is that the proximity of everything on display affords us a beautiful display of contrasts between colors and shapes, as in American grocery stores, everything is so spread out and the displays so large that you only really ever get to see an item or two within your general view.

Kleinmarkthalle in Frankfurt, Germany

Mushrooms, white asparagus, and more mushrooms; besides the portabellos, there’s really nothing else in this photo that we see very frequently in Arizona markets.

Kleinmarkthalle in Frankfurt, Germany

Deer, wild pig, and horse are just some of the meats and sausages here on display. At another stall, we picked up three different preparations of horse to eat along the way to France and Italy starting tomorrow.

Caroline Wise and Angela at Kleinmarkthalle in Frankfurt, Germany

We only had a very brief window of opportunity to connect with old friends on this trip to Germany, and Angela was someone Caroline just had to see. This is where the day began to get seriously random.

A Cortado coffee at Kleinmarkthalle in Frankfurt, Germany

We met at Konstablerwache and headed right back to Kleinmarkthalle as Angela told us that there was a vendor there that had her favorite coffee: a cortado.

New construction near Frankfurt City Hall

From our coffee stop, we headed to “Neue Altstadt” (New Old City) near Römer (City Hall).

New construction near Frankfurt City Hall

This area of development has been a construction site for the past six years and has been met with some measure of controversy due to the imitation of the old style of building and that some wanted it to remain an open pedestrian area.

New construction near Frankfurt City Hall

Shocking at first, I was soon growing comfortable with the idea of what this was, bridging the area between Römer and the Dom (Cathedral) here along the Main River.

New construction near Frankfurt City Hall

This area just opened at the beginning of May and is yet to see tenants and businesses take their place. It could be interesting in a few years to return and see how it’s weathering and how it feels when it comes alive with people living and shopping here.

Angela and Caroline Wise at Konstablerwache in Frankfurt, Germany

Angela brought us back over to Konstablerwache, where the Erzeugermarkt (Producers’ Market) takes place on Thursdays and Saturdays. This is the only place where she can find her favorite cheesecake EVER!

Flowers at Erzeugermarkt at Konstablerwache in Frankfurt, Germany

The flowers and strawberries have always stood out in my memories here at Erzeugermarkt.

Erzeugermarkt at Konstablerwache in Frankfurt, Germany

When the weather is nice, the crowds can get large as most vendors here at the market are also preparing food to accompany a glass of apple wine or a tall beer.

Erzeugermarkt at Konstablerwache in Frankfurt, Germany

Frankfurt is famous for the Bembel pitcher used for serving apple wine, another Frankfurt specialty.

Bratwurst at Erzeugermarkt at Konstablerwache in Frankfurt, Germany

The perfect accompaniment for a glass of apple wine.

Asparagus at Erzeugermarkt at Konstablerwache in Frankfurt, Germany

It’s white asparagus season.

Rhubarb at Erzeugermarkt at Konstablerwache in Frankfurt, Germany

Rhubarb too.

View from our dinner table at Seven Swans in Frankfurt, Germany

This is the view from our dinner table at Seven Swans vegan restaurant along the banks of the Main River. We had a reservation for 7:00 but showed up at 6:30; good thing we did, as we were able to nab the window seats. There are only two seats per floor near the windows because the building is considered the narrowest in Frankfurt. The bar down on the first floor is likely the smallest in the region, too, only able to hold 16 patrons.

Caroline Wise at Seven Swans Restaurant in Frankfurt, Germany

A bowl of fresh water, herbs, and flowers to rinse our hands prior to our meal, and Caroline was about to take the first sip of her Aperol Spritz.

Seven Swans Restaurant in Frankfurt, Germany

Little did we expect to spend more than four hours at dinner tonight. From the spectacular view to the exquisite meal, each and every moment of our luxuriant evening hit the mark.

Seven Swans Restaurant in Frankfurt, Germany

Everything served here is locally grown in nearby Bad Homburg on the restaurant’s farm. Even the dirt served with the potatoes. Of course, we had a bowl of water for washing the potatoes, but seeing they felt confident to serve their “earth apples – Austrian term” in the dirt, I felt that it was probably fairly healthy, so we just brushed them off and went with it.

Seven Swans Restaurant in Frankfurt, Germany

Fresh, colorful, and everything on the plate is edible.

Seven Swans Restaurant in Frankfurt, Germany

Parsnip with Cucumber and Mustard with a grape seed drizzle infused with herbs.

Seven Swans Restaurant in Frankfurt, Germany

The Peas with Wild Garlic and Poppy Seed was a savory favorite. We were by now lost in how many dishes we’d had with our 6-course meal. What threw things off was that the Amuse-bouche with several teasers before we got started with the Leek with Kohlrabi and Birch leaves (not pictured).

Seven Swans Restaurant in Frankfurt, Germany

We still had one more plate centered on asparagus and turnip tops before these two pea pods with pea sorbet were delivered.

Seven Swans Restaurant in Frankfurt, Germany

Followed by a small portion of beet sorbet. These savory vegetable-based sorbets were a first for Caroline and me and hopefully not the last.

Seven Swans Restaurant in Frankfurt, Germany

By the time a third dessert was brought out and before a cheese plate arrived, Caroline was on her sixth glass of wine as after the Aperol had been delivered she figured, “Why not try the wine pairing?” One good reason not to try a wine pairing with a six-course meal is at the end of the four hours she was pretty tipsy. The dessert seen here is a sweetened warm oats and cream dish that certainly belongs in the comfort food category.

This was the most elegant and expensive dinner (nearly €300 or about $350) Caroline and I have ever indulged in Frankfurt. Seven Swans is considered one of the seven best vegan restaurants on earth, and with good reason.

Wandering – Europe Day 3

Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise out for breakfast in Frankfurt, Germany

We carved some time out of the morning and arranged to have breakfast with Jutta before Caroline and I went our separate ways. The plan was for Caroline to visit her godmother Helga for the day and me to go elsewhere. This was my suggestion as my German is poor at best, and I feel that this, in turn, inhibits the flow of conversation as others make concessions to include me. Without me present, Caroline will be able to have a deeper and more meaningful visit, or so is the thought. Turns out that I was right, as Caroline didn’t return from her visit until after 10:00 p.m., so this day is more about me instead of us.

Frankfurt old and new

Thunderstorms were forecast for yesterday, too, but today, it looks like we might actually find some poor weather. Until we do, I will do my best to stay in motion. After I walked Jutta back to her apartment, Caroline had to make her way to Konstablerwache to catch the train to Bad Soden, and I walked down Bergerstrasse, recording the audio of the length of the street between train stops. This was my first “Field Recording” made in a cityscape, and it created a very different perspective of something that might have been routine just before doing such an exercise. We all hear the conversations and traffic when we walk through the city, but rarely would such isolated sounds and distinct elements make themselves heard.

Frankfurt street and sign

Originally, I planned to board an ICE train for Limburg, but the sounds I was experiencing had me wandering around Frankfurt longer than I had anticipated. Then the rain came, and I took shelter for a short time as I hadn’t brought an umbrella or the rain jacket I’d packed back in Phoenix.

Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof

The Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof (main train station) has an amazing soundscape with so many people coming and going along with the public announcements that echo through the massive arched steel open building. It took a decision of constraint to not get lost wandering around Frankfurt exclusively and recording hours of what I was hearing, so I turned off the recorder, put away the microphones, and plugged into some music to see the city through a different filter.

Approaching S-Bahn in Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof

The decision was made to head to Hanau instead of Limburg, as it was noon before I was getting out of Frankfurt. My train was the S9, and this would be the first time in more than two dozen years that I’d been on one. Back in 1985, when I arrived in Frankfurt, it didn’t take long for me to buy tickets for random locations that the train went to, and I’d ride along until an interesting-looking stop drew me in to disembark and explore the locale. Back in Phoenix, the plan was that while Caroline was visiting particular family members, I’d recreate that experience from thirty-three years earlier and listen to some music on my way to somewhere I wasn’t familiar with.

Man on the train in Frankfurt, Germany

Once on the S9, I stood by a set of doors with my headphones plugged in, and the next song in the playlist was “Pick Up The Phone” from The Notwist. Funny how the poetry of a song can feel so appropriate and resonate at a particular time when, just prior, it may have only been a catchy song.

The song starts with, “You know this place,” which, of course, I do to some extent, as I lived in Frankfurt for the better part of 10 years. I say to some extent, as time changes everything, and this city has changed dramatically with the end of the Cold War and the fall of the Eastern Block. Now, put 33 years between my arrival in 1985 and today in 2018. Back then, this was Germany, and it was exotic to my senses; today it feels pedestrian with a shifting identity that doesn’t much feel like it’s fixed in anything particular. Those changes were being seen by the time we’d left in 1995, but back then, one couldn’t know just which way the culture might shift again as it was already in deep flux.

The next line, “You know this gloom?” is answered with a yes. I know the rain, the smell of stale smoke, sour beer, and various fuels. The gloom is exacerbated by the dull clothes that moved away from a distinct “European” feel to sports clothes, jeans, running pants, pastel colors, a few international brands adorning t-shirts, and something quite new: size XXXL. While the site of vapes is seriously uncommon, cigarettes are not. Aggressive begging doesn’t feel as prolific, but the hoodlum/thug still roams the streets.

“We’ve been here before.” Culture changes, and with deep economic shifts, culture can be ratcheted into a convulsion that Europe has seen before. Post World War II, Germany required Turkish migrants to fill the gap left by so many dead German men of a certain age; today, Germany needs immigrants to fill jobs that are dirty, non-challenging, and required to keep the gears on the machine. But this is causing conflict due to the appearance of the other, not the Jew this time, but the headscarf and dark complexion. You can’t not see it. West Germany was, in some ways, isolated, and with the American occupation, it was tightly controlled. While diversity today has the environment looking more like Amsterdam in the mid-eighties, there is a tension where the clash of cultures seems to just be taking root. If I were a betting man, I’d wager that Germany will take the same path as America and opt to accept mediocrity among the minorities and the native Germans who are gravitating to the lower rungs of intellectual power because the stupidity of consumption is more satisfying than making an effort to understand change where leadership is at a loss to guide with a clear vision.

This line, “When life is a loop,” resonates with me, particularly at my age of 55 years old as recently I’ve been seeing a lot of myself in others. Not in older people yet because while I’m close to that age of seriously old, I’m far enough from my 20s to see who I was in the young couple walking down the street holding hands or ringing the doorbell of a friend they are visiting. They are confident and yet uncertain, bold and yet unknowing exactly what is ahead. They cannot see their conformity approaching; they own the world in their naivete, and everyone else plays second fiddle to their awesomeness, but they are average, common even. My loop is to attempt to find what’s new, to try what I’ve not already tried, but isn’t this then a routine that is negating the new by doing what I’ve practiced doing for over 40 years? I supposed going to Burma to become a monk or sacrificing myself in a volcano to appease a god I do not know or fully understand would be a kind of new that would be truly outside my hamster wheel.

“You are a room without a door.” Is this life? We walk around our existence, and to us, the next turn is our version of novelty being exposed to us in such a way that surely no one else before me has understood and gained insight in just the same way as I am right now. The truth is that I’m in the room with Socrates and Hitler, Edison and Musk, Rembrandt and I.M. Pei, only they are now ghosts but I’m still walking in their shadows. I cannot build my own room, nor can I escape the small space I’ve created for myself with the help of those who helped shape me and my environment. Everyone walking around me is merely walking within the confines of their own constructs, and while they may see me, I will have been nothing to their reality besides a stage piece that played a minor role of the guy sitting in a coffee shop on yet another random day.

And here’s the key, “Pick up the phone and answer me at last.” All these faces looking into their phones, some texting, some scanning photos, playing games, reading the news, checking the social network, checking their bank accounts, or listening to The Notwist. We are trying to open a window to the universe and find something because, in our immediacy and the environment, we are starting to comprehend we have nothing left but routine. The phone just might be the escape, a path to the other, and a connection to the unseen and unknown who could have the larger answers. We tried for thousands of years to find it in the shadows of the fire and for hundreds of years on the printed page. For dozens of years, the television and maybe the movies would show us our meaning and purpose, but they have failed, too.

We may never escape our room, but can we push the walls further out? Can we expand our dimensions? Or is our inner animal inherently too frightened and mistrusting to invite others into the intimacy of our space? Maybe when we left the cave, we forgot what community was. In the city, there are more who we don’t and can’t know, while in social media, we have started to get glimpses of like-minded members of our species, but this also seems to be creating another type of existential crisis. What lies deep within us that for millennia we’ve been trying to escape intimacy and knowing one another as we may have in primitive cultures, or is this just a romantic notion where the reality is we’ve always been alienated by our intellect to wonder just what it is we are doing here?

Today, I will step out of my past.

Train stop along the way to Hanau, Germany

The song changes along with the perspective, and soon, I’m on another tangent. Emotion plays large as not only does the landscape trigger a thousand memories, but the soundtrack adds another dimension of memories being laid down for the future.

Watching the rails go by in Frankfurt, Germany

There’s such joy in watching our world zip by when it’s a leisurely affair because someone else is doing the driving, and we are moving efficiently. Sometimes in Europe, it is better to get from one place to another via the train and not have to worry about parking and the horrible congestion that accompanies bigger cities. In a few days, we’ll head to points south, and for that, we have a car, but we also have many miles to cover, and for the most part, we will be avoiding population centers.

Lichen growing on the main cemetery wall in Hanau, Germany

After leaving the Hanau Hauptbahnhof, the 1.9km walk to the city center passes the city’s main cemetery. The wall doesn’t seem that old, but there is a fair amount of lichen and moss growing on it. I know it may not be as interesting as architectural or landscape views to some; for me, though, it is a small detail that, in some way, is a better reminder of some of the small things I see along the way.

Sitting at a coffee shop in Hanau, Germany

Thirty-three years ago, I would take a train to a station, and with the newspaper, I’d grab something for breakfast and sit somewhere to watch people go by. Today, I’m sitting in Hanau at the corner of Am Freiheitsplatz and Fahrstrasse, and instead of reading other’s words, I write my own.

Back then I couldn’t write because I didn’t know enough about myself, and so the best I could do was try to witness life. This is a hint of “The Good Old Days.” I didn’t know, and I burned with the desire to know; today, I still don’t know, but the desire has been tempered with the knowledge that no one ever really knows, and soon we see the looping cycle of it as it has always been, and will probably remain so.

We revel in joy with the child while they remain outside of harmful curiosity for the nostalgic, allowing them to explore the newness of their world while they are still full of innocent curiosity, leading them into play and experimentation. Curiosity for knowledge helps form them for their own time as they celebrate crawling to a place on top of the world. Idealism is the clothing worn by contemptuous youth but will soon be retired upon recognizing the need to sacrifice time for the responsibility that extends beyond the hedonistic self. Sure, some refuse to grow up and will fight for a lifetime so that they can extend their youth and continue an insatiable quest for learning well into later life. These rare characters, though, are sadly marginalized as being out of touch with the greater need to lead others into misery.

Hundreds of people have passed me during the past hour, and I can’t help but see them as variations of a narrow theme. Many are paired with either a spouse or friend, some move in small groups, and maybe an equal number are walking alone.

On the streets of Hanau, Germany

I sat down here mid-afternoon with a Döner Kebab (gyros) for no other particular reason that I knew if I didn’t stop and had I continued to walk and eat my lunch, I’d soon be wearing the garlic sauce that was certain to drip on me. All those years ago, when I first arrived in Germany I would choose random side streets to spend time, as these are the places where people who live here move through their environment. If I was going to feel like what it is to be a local, I needed to get off the beaten path where the tourists were out collecting their trophies.

Walking back to the Hanau Hauptbahnhof

Done with lunch I was back on the same road back to the train station and again walking by the Hauptfriedhof (main cemetery).

On the train to Frankfurt, Germany

The S-Bahn that should have brought me back to Frankfurt needed another half hour to pick me up in Hanau, so I jumped on another train that was heading to Südbahnhof (south Frankfurt) and figured I’d transfer trains for the rest of the ride back into the city proper.

Street signs in Frankfurt, Germany

Once on the street, seeing this sign for Textorstrasse, I thought this was familiar for some reason. Down a way, it became apparent why: it’s Harmonie Kino over here. Harmonie is an art-house theater I’ve visited many a time, and if I’m not mistaken, it was Andy Warhol’s Flesh for Frankenstein I saw first and this is also where I watched Akira.

Frankfurt, Germany

This is one of the most typical residential scenes in Frankfurt I’m familiar with: apartments with a small restaurant on the corner. I do miss this density of living, though the parking leaves a lot to be desired if it can be found.

The sky over Frankfurt, Germany

Reaching the Main River, it was starting to look foreboding in the distance as though I might have a rain encounter in my future.

Frankfurt skyline from the Main River

When you know what lies within this city and its cultural and historical offerings, you can’t help but be in love with it. With a vibrant food scene, a river, great music venues, nearby mountains, a perfect public transportation system, and more museums than can be visited in a week, Frankfurt is an easy place to live in. I should qualify that it is expensive, parking is atrocious, and big intellectual skills are required to find meaningful work.

Schirn Museum in Frankfurt, Germany

Speaking of museums, this is the Schirn Modern Art Museum.

 Wolle Rödel yarn store in Frankfurt, Germany

I stumbled across the Wolle Rödel yarn store by Kleinmarkthalle on my way through Konstablerwache. I picked up some sock yarn because one can never have enough handmade socks, and Caroline LOVES making me new socks.

Streets of Frankfurt, Germany

I’m starting to entertain the idea that I’m going to walk all the way to Heddernheim, where Klaus and Stephanie live. To be clear, Heddernheim is a city district of Frankfurt, and it’s not wrong to refer to it as Frankfurt, so there you go.

Streets of Frankfurt, Germany

I’m heading into a neighborhood I’m very familiar with because North End is where I lived for six years, from 1989 until 1995, when Caroline and I moved to the United States.

Bottles for recycling on the streets of Frankfurt, Germany

A recent strike from the people who collect the glass for recycling has resulted in the residents of Frankfurt putting on display just how much alcohol they drink. Surprisingly, there was no broken glass. You’ve got to love such a civilized population.

The corner of Lenaustrasse and Weberstrasse in Frankfurt, Germany

The corner of Neuhofstrasse and Weberstrasse is the location where I fell in love with Caroline on June 18, 1989, at around 5:00 in the morning, following our meeting up after seeing the Pixies the night before. We talked for some time outside the Batschkapp nightclub until it was so late that the trains had stopped running, so I gave her a ride home, which was one street over on Gluckstrasse. Until that minute when we kissed on the streetside, I did not have the slightest interest in Caroline, but after that first kiss, I was smitten. The rest is history.

Walking stats: 13 miles or 21.5 km with 21 floors climbed.