Frankfurt with a Stranger and Flying Toward the Sun (Part I)

Wassup, Frankfurt!

10:30pm 06/29/12 Onboard flight from Frankfurt to Oslo Gardermoen Airport

Just met extraordinary sight: the bright white moon hung at eye-level with me outside the cabin window. C’mon! I know this might strike you as nothing spectacular but that was the closest I have EVER felt to the moon on a physical level (normally, we are not very intimate, being 384,400km apart according to Google. Oh, cosmic long distance), as though we’re two bodies cruising along the same aerial highway.

I had intended to start this entry with: I’ve completely lost track of time. My body clock feels as though it should be abiding by Bay Area time but problem is I’ve forgotten what Bay Area time is. All I know is my SFO à FRA (Frankfurt Airport) flight was delayed by an hour so 3pm at FRA = (10 hour flight. Do the math.)  5am SFO time. Ah, no wonder I was yawning but pretending (to myself…) that I wasn’t tired when I stepped off the plane theoretically at 5am after an aching flight of “sleep”. Now that I’ve sorted out THAT minor tangle of time, let’s move on to the fantastic adventure I had in Frankfurt!

Even though my flight was delayed, I still had enough hours in my hands to explore downtown Frankfurt via the S-Bahn. Talk about coincidence; on the flight I was seated next to an East African/ retired dad/ South Bay local, and next to him, a rather attractive guy in a pink shirt who I assumed to be a) a college student, b) German. Both hypotheses wrong. So I made pleasant conversation with the guy next to me during the flight. He’d had a long day, having been removed from an earlier flight in the day due to overbooking. We talked about college, majors, his kids, my kids (just kidding), the economy (for which I provided a timid opinion), before we each lapsed into United Entertainment.

Omg. Yes, this miracle merits that pandemic abbreviation. For the FIRST time I’ve travelled on United, the seats provided individual entertainment.  AW YEAH. I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of groovy movies to choose from, but selected “Salmon Fishing in Yemen”, which I persevered through until halfway, before giving up on Emily Blunt and Ewan McGregor’s awkward, barely flickering chemistry, although the plot itself was très unique if unbelievable. Then, I stormed through four episodes of “How I Met Your Mother”, whereby I discovered the charm of Barney and was converted into a loyal member of the HIMYM fan clan.

Upon entering the FRA arrival hall, I was tapped on the shoulder and spoken to simultaneously by Mr Pink-Shirt-Who-Is-Actually-an-Israeli-In-His-30s, who asked “How do we get out?” [To Be Continued]

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