So, it has been an incredibly loooong day (and it's only 2pm!). Things started off promising and, well, then fate intervened. But let me paint you a picture.
I arrived at the Ottawa airport yesterday at 3ish and was able to clear check-in and security in 10 minutes. Record time and an awesome way to start the trip – I wasn’t even charged for excessive baggage this time!
The plane wasn’t full, so there were a few empty seats around us, but nothing we could take advantage of. Ironically, I had the same seat on this trip as I had going to London and, unless things change, I’ll have the same seat going home. In front of us sat a couple of old bitties to chatted a fair bit and reclined their chairs all the way first thing, and behind us was a pair I affectionately (ok, not so much) referred to as Augustus and Mrs. Gloop – the kid was a douche, making all kinds of noise all night long and both of them not seeming to be able to grasp the concept that touching the seat in front of them in anyway was going to be felt by dad and I. Dad at one point asked the mother to have the son stop kicking his chair and was told (in pretty good English) “I don’t speak English.” The both calmed down the douchiness though, so we had that going for us. All told, I got less than an hours sleep on the plane – not a good stepping stone for the rest of the day.
We landed in Frankfurt around 6:10 and rather than pull up to a terminal, had to unload on the tarmac then get on buses to be taken to the terminal, about 5 minutes away. Picture the 95, but with more luggage and more jerks. This woman, who’s kid cried for the last 45 minutes (NON STOP) of the flight was the last to get off the plane, took her sweet time getting the kid in the stroller, then mosied on up to our bus and we had to cram in to make room for her, her stroller and a rolling carry on. Some people….
From the bus we cleared passport control with no problems – the guy didn’t even look to check I was in the broad in the picture and didn’t ask me any questions about what we were doing here. We collected our luggage and headed to the train station across the street from the airport. At this point, the exhaustion was starting to catch up with me and making me nauseous. We sat down to wait the hour and bit for our train which we caught with no problems. The first train ride (that’s right, the FIRST) was about 30 minutes and I dozed. The second train ride (that’s right, the SECOND) was about an hour and I managed to get some sleep – we were in a Harry Potter style compartment so it was a bit cozier. The third train ride (that’s right, the THRID) was about 15 minutes and we pulled into Lahr shortly before 11.
After getting a taxi ride to the rental car place, we found out that they had no cars on hand, so the girl behind the desk drove us to our hotel. I took a 2 hour nap and was woken by reception letting us know that someone was here to take us back to the car rental place. We just got back from picking up a Volkswagon Golf and are now chilling for a couple of hours.
All in all, I like the travelling, but HATE the getting here. Next time I travel with dad, he sure as shit better listen to what I’m physically able to deal with following an over-night cross Atlantic!
- Euro-trash! I was on European soil for less than 15 minutes before I saw me some prime examples. One dude was in a linen suit, with a linen aqua shirt (open to mid-chest), carrying a LV murse and wearing really douch-y shoes. I had to keep from laughing.
- Music: such an odd combo. The taxi driver was listening to a Spice Girls remix and most of the radio station I’ve heard are all playing techno-ish music. There also seems to be a lot of music about traveling: imagine a Phil Collins/Abba hybrid about Brussles. It’s odd.