Frankfurt-er

But unfortunately I had to leave there.I arranged a taxi for an early airport departure and headed for Frankfurt. When I changed my plans to skip Sardinia and didn’t need that leg of the flight back to Frankfurt, I had booked a separate ticket from Thessaloniki to Frankfurt, where my flight home connected. Since the flights were no longer on the same ticket, I was nervous. If my Thessaloniki flight was delayed or cancelled, the airline operating my long-haul flight home would have no obligation to accommodate me.

Between rising fuel costs, airport delays, and the rollout of Europe’s new Entry/Exit System, there seemed to be lots of reports and rumors of delays, so I decided to play it safe and arrive in Frankfurt a full day before my departure.

Besides, I had never actually visited Germany. Up until then, Frankfurt had simply been an airport.

I booked a hotel in the city center and took the train from the airport. Almost immediately I managed to board one going the wrong direction. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize my mistake for twenty or thirty minutes. Eventually I got off, retraced my steps, found the correct train, and finally made it into the city.

It was too early to check into my room, but The hotel held my bags while I explored.

I wandered down to the River and found a spot for lunch where I enjoyed a properly German meal of sausages, frankfurters, and a refreshing beer that tasted somewhat like a shandy. The weather was hot and humid, and by the time I finally checked into my room I was grateful for another shower and clean clothes.

Refreshed, I headed back out to explore Frankfurt’s old town and riverfront. The city was buzzing with energy, and it didn’t take long to figure out why.

Apparently, I had arrived during Metallica weekend.

Every other person seemed to be wearing a Metallica shirt. Outdoor bars overflowed with fans, terraces were packed, and the entire city felt festive.

I visited the historic churches, listened to church bells that seemed determined to ring forever, rode the trams around different neighborhoods, and soaked up the atmosphere.

Finding dinner proved surprisingly difficult because of the crowds, but eventually I squeezed into a traditional tavern with communal tables. There I ordered schnitzel with Grüne Soße, Frankfurt’s famous green sauce made from seven herbs and traditionally served with meat and potatoes. It was exactly the kind of regional specialty I had hoped to find.