A Tale of Two Weekends

This is the tale of two weekends. It is a tale of wonder and adventure, of disappointment and pain. It all started on a cloudy Saturday morning in the tucked away German city of Darmstadt. Awaking from his sleep, a young (cough, cough) soldier, named Phillip, began to plan his weekend. With only a few mundane tasks to weigh down his day, he finished them quickly and then set out for adventure. The city of Frankfurt awaited. It cried out to be explored. But how would the young (hehe) soldier get there? He had no car; in fact, at that time, he didn’t even have a valid driver’s license…not for this new land anyway. Ah, the train! What luck! The strassenbahn (streetcar) stop is only mere steps from his barracks (boo, hiss). The strassenbahn is cheap and goes right to the Hauptbahnhof (main train station). So, with digital camera and rain deterrent (umbrella) in hand, he set out for the Hauptbahnhof, arriving there in less than 20 minutes. It was at the Hauptbahnhof that the first obstacle presented itself. Without knowing how to speak German, how would Phillip buy his train ticket to Frankfurt? AHA!! There are automated ticket machines! A bullet dodged…except that the machines won’t accept a 20 euro bill. Rats! Well, he’ll have to try the ticket counter. Gulp!
As he walks up to the counter, the ticket agent, a thirty something woman, smiled and said something in German. Phillip took a deep breath and politely asked, “sprechen Sie Englisch?” (Do you speak English?) She made a face. He wasn’t sure, but it either meant “Yes, but I don’t want to” or “No.” The third possibility is that is meant “oh great, another stupid American!” Either way, it wasn’t good. Phillip thought an explanation was in order. “I don’t speak German.” A completely unnecessary statement. She rolled her eyes…just a little bit, but he saw it. Hhhmmmm… Phillip decided he better dig deep and try to reproduce the limited German he had learned in his one week in the new land. Um…Ich mochte ein fahrkarte zum Frankfurt? It wasn’t really a question, but that’s how it sounded. He wasn’t sure that he had said it right, but it must have at least been close enough. She smiled again and nodded that she understood he wanted a ticket to Frankfurt. Success! She gave him the ticket and gestured in the direction of the train platforms. He was off. The trains are almost always on time, so no problems there. Arriving in Frankfurt, Phillip lingered in the Hauptbahnhof only long enough to notice how much it resembled the one in Paris.

Like any good soldier, young Phillip had done his map recon, not wanting to get lost in the new city. Having planned on visiting an architectural museum on the south side of the Main river (pronounced “mine,”) he set out for the nearest bridge. The route was simple: cross the bridge and take the first left. Done. Arriving at the modest sized museum, he entered and approached the ticket counter. “Oh great!” Trying to avoid a repeat of the train station incident, he searched the board above the ticket agent’s head in a desperate attempt to locate the word for ticket, knowing this would be a different word than for a train ticket. AHA! Got it! “Um…ein Eintritt, bitte.” This small phrase got him the ticket (that and 6 euros). Just when things were getting simpler, the ticket agent started blabbering on and on in German for what seemed like minutes. She was pointing toward the entrance to the exhibit. He understood a few numbers that she said and that was about it. Um…”danke.” He had no idea what she said.
The museum was nice. Three floors full of photos, models and sketches of different architectural feats in Germany and elsewhere. Six euros well spent.
After that, it was off to the plaza with all the churches. It probably has a better name than that, but for Phillip, that one works just fine. Walking along the river, he arrived in about fifteen minutes, all the while warding off the rain with his folded up umbrella in hand. It’s almost like magic. The walk looked something like this…

The “Plaza with All the Churches” is just what you may have pictured an old German city would look like. It was quite breathtaking.








After the churches, Phillip decided to find Frankfurt’s franchise of his favorite clothing store, Zara. It wasn’t far. Along the way, Phillip found something akin to a farmer’s market in one of the plazas. There were fruit stands and food vendors all around. He couldn’t pass up the Bratwurst vendor. YUM! Fresh off the grill, it was piping hot and deeeee-licious. Two more euros well spent.
Zara was right around the corner. Nice, but nothing really begged to go home with him, so he left. After visiting a few more stores and stopping for something to drink, it was time go home (using that term loosely, folks). Back to the Hauptbahnhof it was. And wonder of wonders, there was a Starbucks in the food court!! He stopped by to grab a hot chocolate for the train ride (sorry Fairfields, but it’s just part of the story). Buying the ticket was a snap. He was off!
Phillip arrived back late enough to call it a full day, but early enough to get a good night’s sleep for Sunday. A young soldier has to get plenty of sleep. (Is the “young” part even plausible anymore?)
Sunday was low key: church at the post chapel, and lunch with some people he met there.
It was a good weekend. Phillip was excited to add a new chapter to his book of adventures the following weekend. Little did he know what awaited him.


This weekend can be summed up by closely examining the items on Phillip’s bed. No lengthy story or explanation needed. Perhaps you can even guess. Take a try. Can you sum up Phillip’s weekend in ten words or less?