The S Train

This is my first trip to Germany.

After stepping off the plane, all I needed to do was travel about eight miles from Frankfort International Airport to my Airbnb in Eschborn. How hard can that be? Besides, I’m tech savvy, I have Google Maps to guide me!

Walking through the terminal, it’s a big help that most of the signs are bilingual. I’ve traveled to China, Mexico and The Bahamas before, so I knew my first stop would be immigration. 

The agent studied my passport, frowned, and narrowed his brows: “Traveling alone?” Yes. “Verdächtig he said in a suspicious tone. How long will you stay?” Thirty days. “Hum… Why are you here?” Vacation. “Kein Ding… What do you do?” I’m retired. “Aha… ----- You may go…”.

Whew… If part of his job is to make you feel unnerved, he was excellent at it. Moving again, following the signs and crowd, I found ground transportation. This should be easy.

Walking out the airport, I neared a man with a big red, “Can I help” button on his lapel. He flashed a smile and asked in English if I needed anything. I returned his smile, showed him my Google Map, and he nodded knowingly as I moved outside.

Google showed a little red arrow where I was standing, and a series of blue dots leading to my next stop. I needed to walk a few dots and pick up a bus at terminal 1. As luck would have it, right in front of me was a placard and the bus for Terminal 1. So, I jumped on board. Easy-Peezy.

Boarding the bus I was puzzled about how to pay. It wasn’t obvious, and the driver was just sitting blankly behind the protection of his plexiglass cab. Other passengers boarded and just sat down, so I did too. According to Google, the ride should take about twenty minutes, so I tried to relax into my seat.

As we weaved along city streets, the airport and city passed by. But after about ten minutes, I realized the buildings looked familiar, like the ones around the airport. Glancing down at Google, a long, looping, white line, separated my red arrow from the little blue dots. I was still at the airport!

When the bus door opened there was a sign that read Terminal 2. I get it, I thought, this bus just shuttles people between terminal 1 and 2. I stayed seated as passengers boarded knowing when the door opened again I would be back where I’d started.

This time I carefully read the directions and realized the bus stop I needed was less than a hundred feet away. If I’d looked around in the first place, I would have seen the sign. A true “Oh boy Charley Brown!” moment.

Google said to take this bus about a mile north and walk to a nearby train station. Really, it was just a pedestrian platform. There, I joined a few people waiting around for the next train.

So far, I hadn’t paid a cent for my travels. I wasn’t sure what the penalty was for riding without a ticket, so I was thinking about what to do.

Looking around, located near the end of the seating area was a kiosk that looked like an oversized ATM. It was a ticket machine all right, but even after switching the screen to English, I was still bewildered. Niederhochstadt, NiederhochstadtSchwalbach, and Dietzenbach. My directions said to look for the S3 or S4 to Kronberg/Bad Soren. I didn’t see that anywhere.

After reaching the point of just pushing buttons at random, I asked a woman sitting next to the machine “Sprechen sie Englisch?” (I had memorized a little German before leaving the US. Please, thank you, speak English? 🙂 She did, but explained she doesn’t use the kiosk, that’s when Ali stepped forward.

Wearing a sharp looking fedora and dressed casual business, Ali patiently helped me through the screens till finally a ticket was in my hand. He explained I needed to catch the S3 or S4 at Frankfort Main Station. The train I was about to take had a stop about a block away from there. He said he was going that way and would show me where to get off.

On our short trip, I learned Ali works in IT. We chatted about project management, software development, SCRUM, and the challenges of delivering value on time. It was a quick ten minutes and before I knew it the train had stopped. Ali pointed to a large building down the street. “That’s your destination. Look for the S3 or S4 train and you’ll be ok” he said. Ali shook my hand, smiled, and off I went.

I’m not sure how close to downtown Frankfort I was, but my first impression was this is downtown anywhere USA. Crowded streets, litter, rollup storefronts, and graffiti.

I felt safe, yet strangely disappointed. Why do people have to spray-paint their tags all over modern and ancient architecture? Too bad we can’t find a way to turn that creativity and exuberance into something that doesn’t desecrate another person’s craftsmanship.

After arriving at Frankfort Main Station, I walked from one end to the other searching for S3 or S4. Track after track I read the signs. Where is S3 or S4 to Kronberg/Bad Soren? After a few minutes, I walked back to my starting place and in front of me was a stairway with a sign that read S4 Bad Soden. Not Bad Soren, Bad Soden.

Could there be a spelling error in my host’s directions? Ali said to take the S3 or S4 train, and the S4 part was right. The names were close, so with a shrug, off I went. Maybe the mystery would clear its self-up eventually.

It was 9:30 am local time and I had been traveling for twenty-one hours. I was definitely foggy, but the little red google arrow showed I was on the right track:) Yet, I was still doubtful. I thought about my dad and what he’d do.

Dad was quite a guy. He could split and lay stone, build a house, design the instrument panel for future Buicks, and find his way home from the wilderness.

Throughout my life, in little sayings and bits of wisdom, he’d passed valuable knowledge on to me. Let’s see, it’s still morning so the sun hasn’t reached zenith yet. I’m sitting on the right side of the train, and I know my Airbnb is north of Frankfort. If I’m heading north, the sun will be out my window to the right. Check! That confirms it, at the very least I’m moving in the right direction.

The train slowed to a stop and people got off and on. Out the opposite window I could read the station sign. Galluswarte. According to Google Maps, I was just a few stops away from my station. The next stop should be Frankfurt am Main Messe. Then Rödelheim, Eschborn Süd, and a few stops later, my stop, Niederhochstadt.

I watched my progress on Google and checked off each station as we moved along. Finally, with my stomach doing a little anticipation dance, I stepped off the train and onto the platform.

It seemed like a nice neighborhood, suburban streets, two and three-story homes with dark slate or red tile roofs, and trees, lots of trees. That’s when it hit me.