Earlier last week I decided that I would rent a car and the girls and I would surprise Aaron by meeting him at Frankfurt Airport. I then planned a route that would take us to Bavaria, down the same roads that my Babcia herself had once travelled. I booked a hotel in Rothenburg ob der Tauber, a medieval town that is supposed to conjure up all impressions of German folklore.
Instead, this happened.
After waking up at 5 in the morning, we set off for Frankfurt, but not before driving 40 minutes in the opposite direction. After an hour and half of driving, we were finally back where we started. I should have just went home at this point, but lured in by the possibility of speeding on the autobahn without incurring any fines, I pushed forward, confident I would make it there on time.
We reached the airport 10 minutes after Aaron was supposed to land and we ran like the wind was behind us. He wasn't at the gate. So we ran some more, to try to catch him at the train station. We literally shouted his name, running along the track, desperately trying to find him. Germans are fairly reserved. A woman pushing a stroller with two children attached, tears falling and screaming her husband's name while running was a spectacle for sure.
We didn't find him. Resigned, we started to turn around. Claudia thought we were never going to see Aaron again. I didn't correct her as I was pretty upset and wanted to commiserate. Almost on the highway, I decided to stop at the police station so I could chill the fuck out before I got back on the racetrack. Police officers walked by me and didn't even question why I was parked where it clearly said it was forbidden to do so. Perhaps they just assumed that I had a husband who was taken into custody and I was just trying to come to terms with it.
So where was Aaron? Sitting, pleased as punch that he had caught the EARLY train and would be home even sooner than he expected. When he came home to find his computer missing, he went into frantic mode and started calling anyone who might know where his possessions may be. So now everyone knew I was an idiot.
The girls and I had a lovely lunch at a road stop gas station and finally made it home close to twelve hours after we left. We will try to make the trip again, without all the surprises. And since we still have the car for another day, we're going to make the most of it. We're taking the girls out for dinner, because Ikea hot dogs are worth the drive.
Instead, this happened.
After waking up at 5 in the morning, we set off for Frankfurt, but not before driving 40 minutes in the opposite direction. After an hour and half of driving, we were finally back where we started. I should have just went home at this point, but lured in by the possibility of speeding on the autobahn without incurring any fines, I pushed forward, confident I would make it there on time.
We reached the airport 10 minutes after Aaron was supposed to land and we ran like the wind was behind us. He wasn't at the gate. So we ran some more, to try to catch him at the train station. We literally shouted his name, running along the track, desperately trying to find him. Germans are fairly reserved. A woman pushing a stroller with two children attached, tears falling and screaming her husband's name while running was a spectacle for sure.
We didn't find him. Resigned, we started to turn around. Claudia thought we were never going to see Aaron again. I didn't correct her as I was pretty upset and wanted to commiserate. Almost on the highway, I decided to stop at the police station so I could chill the fuck out before I got back on the racetrack. Police officers walked by me and didn't even question why I was parked where it clearly said it was forbidden to do so. Perhaps they just assumed that I had a husband who was taken into custody and I was just trying to come to terms with it.
So where was Aaron? Sitting, pleased as punch that he had caught the EARLY train and would be home even sooner than he expected. When he came home to find his computer missing, he went into frantic mode and started calling anyone who might know where his possessions may be. So now everyone knew I was an idiot.
The girls and I had a lovely lunch at a road stop gas station and finally made it home close to twelve hours after we left. We will try to make the trip again, without all the surprises. And since we still have the car for another day, we're going to make the most of it. We're taking the girls out for dinner, because Ikea hot dogs are worth the drive.
Yay! This rest stop is so GREAT.
Claudia pouting because there isn't enough snow to make a snow man. That's her biggest disappointment of the day.
Somewhere between Bavaria and the Black Forest, this is what you get.
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