Author's Note: This is my journal entry (slightly edited for better clarity) from my travel to and first day in Deutschland.
____________________
I’m
exhausted. In every way a person can be
tired. Emotionally. Physically.
Ecumenically.
Okay, so maybe not
that last one (I'm SO funny when I travel), but suffice it to say I’m pretty gosh darn tired right now.
Let me recount for you the
excitement of my first day in Germany.
It started at 3:15 AM in Los Angeles, California. The morning was cool and lovely, making my
choice of jeans, boots, and a tank top perfectly reasonable. I checked my smart phone to see what emails
had come my way, and to my horror, found out that my flight from LAX to
Philadelphia had been cancelled due to aircraft maintenance.
As calmly as I could I lumbered blearily to the kitchen where my mother was putting some pieces of bacon in a skillet and informed her that I had no idea how I going to get to Germany. If I didn’t make it to Philadelphia, I couldn’t catch my flight to Frankfurt. After a brief conversation with a US Airways representative, I was able to reschedule my flight through Phoenix, adding time to my already long and arduous journey.
Aircraft what now? |
As calmly as I could I lumbered blearily to the kitchen where my mother was putting some pieces of bacon in a skillet and informed her that I had no idea how I going to get to Germany. If I didn’t make it to Philadelphia, I couldn’t catch my flight to Frankfurt. After a brief conversation with a US Airways representative, I was able to reschedule my flight through Phoenix, adding time to my already long and arduous journey.
With the details confirmed and new
tickets printed out, I stumbled blindly through check-in and security at a
different airport (a condition required by the stop in Phoenix) and made it to
my gate. I remember the only clear
thought in my head being, “Please, let this be the only mishap today.”
Oh, how little I knew of what was
coming. My flight to Phoenix arrived at
8:13 AM. I disembarked with my ukulele
in hand and backpack fully loaded. I then
proceeded to speed walk across half the Phoenix airport to make it to my gate
in time to board the flight to Philadelphia.
Squished next to an old lady with a
big poofy red coat on, I gritted my teeth for 4 hours of mind-numbing boredom
interspersed with sleep. However, sleep
was elusive as red coat’s lady red coat invaded at least a third of my own
seat. Not eager to look a gift horse in
the mouth, I thanked heaven for the small mercy of making the connection.
Then, the god of airplane
connections frowned upon me, and its visage was terrifying. I waited for 2 hours in the Philadelphia
airport, waiting for Flight 702 with service to Frankfurt to board. The 4-hour layover turned into a 6-hour layover.
By the time we boarded, all the kids
on the plane were bored out of their tiny little minds and exhausted. Cue what felt like 3 hours of screaming
crying infant noises on the plane. It
was probably thirty minutes, but who can tell time when sleep-deprived? I watched Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and portions of
the following movies: Prometheus, Black Swan, and The Avengers. These were all seen from over the shoulders
of the people in front of me, while children screamed around me.
Upon
getting the Frankfurt, I breezed through customs and picked up my luggage. I probably brought too much luggage; it was
difficult to handle it all by myself.
Luckily when I made it to the Zug (train) to Marburg, I was exhausted, hot,
sweaty, and near tears.
The worst part? Here I was...so proud of myself for getting to the Hauptbahnhof (main train station), buying a ticket, and getting on the correct train. Then, when I gave my ticket to the ticket checker, he said "Ach so, du musst GERMAN GERMAN GERMAN OH GOD TOO MUCH FAST GERMAN FOR ANNELISE'S TIRED BRAIN." All I could do is look up meekly and ask, "Was?" ("What?").
Lucky for me, the University student across from me spoke German and English and was able to translate. Fun fact: The train to Marburg splits in Gießen. Half of the train continues onto Marburg. The other reverses direction and goes towards to Frankfurt before heading to Dillenburg.Imagine me as the donkey and the packages as the German language on the day of my arrival. Yeah, this is gonna go great. |
Even luckier me, I was on the wrong part of the train to get to Marburg. At Gießen, I grabbed all my stuff and sprinted to the front of the train. And then, after a few more stops, I was in Marburg.
Gott sei dank. (Thank god)
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