HERA'S BLOG

Hera

Day 2: Historisches Museum and Apfelwein
Wednesday, July 5, 2006

Took our time today getting started, since Stephen was still unhappy about the outcome of the match (and the amount of beer he drank drowning said sorrows). Britta and I walked to the bäckerei (bakery) while S made coffee -- we got back and the coffee was still hot! I'm liking this whole walking distance thing. My personal mission is to eat something unfamiliar from the bakery every morning. Today's mystery meal was a large, flat biscuit-looking thing about 6 inches in diameter, topped with a red, sourish fruit and sugary, crumby bits.

For breakfast, S served me the saltiest bacon I'd ever eaten with my egg. It made me light-headed. S says Germans could not survive without mustard or salt. I believe him. Oh gosh, how I believe him.

We headed out eventually towards the inner city, following the shore of the river Main on the pedestrian/bike pathway. It was so hot, as hot as it is in Texas, and there is no air conditioning. Anywhere. And I came all this way to escape the Texas heat? Seems it's not working. S & B on the Eisen bridge:



Once we crossed the Main on the Eisen Bridge, we ate haagen daz ice cream, looked inside the cathedral, people watched, walked through the Kliene Markt Halle (sort of like a Farmer's Market), checked out the historical museum, then settled in a cafe and drank several glasses of Apfelwein and ate a dish known only in Frankfurt, Handes Kase mit Musik (aged cheese with diced onions and vinegar served on buttered rye bread). It was delicious. Stephen is constantly afraid that he's going to suggest something that I won't enjoy eating, and he is always apologizing. I keep telling him I will eat anything, gladly, at least once, and that he has nothing to fear about losing my good opinion. My lunch. Yes, I take pictures of food. Get used to it.



One of the exhibits in the museum was a typical Frankfurt kitchen. After the Allied saturation bombing during the war, there was very little left standing of Frankfurt, so lots of housing needed to be designed and built very very quickly. The model kitchen designed for the apartment building blocks looked remarkably similar to the typical June Cleaver kitchen, only with an older stove. Britta was fascinated. She stood in front of the exhibit and said 'this is my parent's kitchen!' S said that the new design eliminated the walking in a typical kitchen from 90 meters to 9 meters.

At that point I learned that both S and B were born in Frankfurt. B has always lived in the Neideradd neighborhood, having been born there as well.

It appears it is next to impossible to buy bottled water that is not mineralized. Britta was so excited that she found for me a water fountain that was potable. OK, officially my English is starting to suck.

B went on to class, and S and I rode the tram back to Neideradd, picking up some Thai food on the way. S seems convinced I'm going to starve to death.

After we ate, S and B went back to the sailing club to watch the next match on the big screen, France vs Portugal. I stayed at the apartment and watched some German TV (highly entertaining), and then watched the bonus materials on the German Serenity DVD on S's laptop. I really enjoyed the film maker's journey extra, since I always find Joss so entertaining. Also enjoyed the bit about Nathan and Summer doing their own stunts. Shortly soonafter, S came home carrying a very large, very dead fish that he had caught in the Main, so I watched him filet it, then helped him salt it.



We played on the computer for a while, watching some Johnny Cash videos. I introduced them to The Onion, they introduced me to The Titanic, the German version of politically incorrect reportage. While we were cruising around looking at stuff, they saw a swastika on one of the Onion stories 'Georgia adds Swastika and Middle Finger to Rebel Flag'. They asked me what the word swastika meant, and I realised they'd never heard it before. They told me that the German term for it was 'die kruez cross' (sp?)(the hooked cross). Will wonders never cease? The whole world calls it a swastika, and that means nothing to two thirty-something Germans. Golly.

OK, off to bed. Um, I mean, couch.

-Hera

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