For the record, I am writing this on no sleep for the last 36 hours, so I guess I will have to read it tomorrow and see if it makes sense.
Wow!! Talk about culture shock! I knew it would be difficult to adjust, but I guess I just didn�t think about it too much. The flight was smooth but once we landed I found enough turbulence to make up for that. Getting out of the airport wasn�t really that bad, but I think that every time I had to stand in line or choose a certain direction to take I ended up making the wrong decision and having to do it twice. However, these were very minor delays. Security in Frankfurt was very unimpressive. I had prepared myself to have to go through all kinds of questioning and checks, but was surprised to find none. Everyone that got off the plane had to go through the passport check lines where we had to show our passport to armed attendants. The guards would stamp some people�s passports, but when I got to the window he merely glanced quickly as I held the passport up and then waved me through. Next, I went to the baggage claim area. There was no one there to make sure that you got your own bags and check your claim tickets. Finally, it was through the �doors of declaration�. You were supposed to walk through the green door on the right if you felt that you had nothing to declare. If you had something to declare you went through the red door on the left. I pondered the decision for about two seconds, thought of the old game show �Let�s make a deal�, and then chose door number two, the green one. The only other person left in the baggage claim area, a lady with a small girl and about fifteen bags, struggled to get through the red doors. As I walked through my mystery door I noticed that once again there was no one to greet me, and it looked as if the same was true for the, most likely disappointed, lady who probably didn�t get to declare anything. Looking back on my whole airport experience, I think I saw more U.S. army troops than German security people. Immediately after arriving into the �civilian area� of the airport, I found a place to drop my gear and get everything arranged in my pack the way I needed it (a small task that took about thirty minutes.
Before I go any further, I want to mention the reason for the first journey of the trip. All over the airport are information desks marked by an �I�. Some are manned and others are self-serve computer touch screens. You must realize that when I say that some were manned, that doesn�t mean that they were helpful. They weren�t, and nobody seemed to be very happy. I tried my luck at one of the booths where I asked the �info-guy� where I could find a map of the city. Without saying a word, he gave me a map that looked like something that would come on your tray at McDonald�s for the kids to color on and keep themselves entertained. It turned out to be a map of all the duty-free shops around the city. I promptly discarded the useless piece of trash and rebelled against being informed. The latter decision probably wasn�t the best idea, seeing as how I was in a strange country, couldn�t speak or read the language, and my body thought it was 2:00 AM. Never the less, I decided to start walking in whatever direction I thought looked fun. As I was walking I realized that Lufthansa is a very large airport. Let me explain it like this: It was hard for me to find a post card in the Frankfurt area with something other than the airport on it. Later that day I overheard a girl saying that all Frankfurt is, is the airport. I guess they were headed to the suburbs the following day because she said, �If there�s nothing to do in Frankfurt, I�m sure the suburbs will be boring too.� At this point I was really taken back, because I had done nothing but walk through town and still thought it was great. I guess I should consider myself lucky that I don�t have to find some huge nightclub scene in order to have a good time.
Anyway, back to when I had just left the airport. I was walking, and walking and then decided to turn down a small side street. After about a mile I saw a paved trail heading off into the woods. It was going in the direction opposite that which I had begun walking. I couldn�t decipher the sign I believe described the trail, and I was too lazy to fumble into my bag to get my German translation dictionary. So now I had another decision to make. Should I follow the �call of the wild� and head down the trail through the woods, or stick to the road that I �hoped� would take me into the city? Well anyone who knows me fairly well should be able to tell you which choice I made. I guess you could say, (in the words of a famous author) �I took the path less traveled.� I also guess you could say �that decision made all the difference.� That may be a little dramatic but I think it makes the point. I headed into the unknown. Actually either path was the unknown since I didn�t know where the road went either. I was a good distance out of sight of the entrance of the trail when my footpath bisected another trail. This seemed to become a more and more frequent occurrence as I walked on. I don�t recall how many times I turned onto different trails, but I can say there was an extended period of time that I had no idea where I was. Some might have considered themselves lost, but since this whole trip is one big wandering experience, I never considered myself lost in that sense of the word. As Henry David Thoreau put it, �Not till we are lost, in other words, not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves, and realize where we are and the infinite extent of our relations.� Eventually, I decided to start making turns onto trails that seemed like they were heading toward the noise of a highway. The main reason for this was because of a small detail that I forgot to mention. During my hasty retreat from the airport, I neglected a very crucial chore of backpacking�..Filling up water bottles. Judging by the time I was gone and the pace I had been walking, I estimate that I had already gone about four miles in a light heat, but with a soaking humidity. And I believe that it is safe to say that I was thirsty as I stepped off of the plane. Eventually I was back in civilization, and after finding a dead end and having to backtrack a ways I found myself back at Terminal B. Although I was a little tired, I had enjoyed this excursion very much, so I �declared� it the pre-walk, but I doubt that anyone would have been behind the red door to make it official (ha, ha). After resting for a while, buying a map of Germany, and realizing that I was too tired to walk all the way into Frankfurt, I decided to hitch a ride. I think this was the point where my mind finally decided to use the first hint of rationale all day. I desperately needed sleep, at least a short nap, and I was afraid that it might take awhile to get picked up, so I committed my first sin of the trip�I jumped on the bus.
