A quick jaunt to Istanbul… (part six)

Featured photo is of the Istanbul Airport area as we flew over it.

Finally, Friday morning arrived, and it was time to go back to Germany. Specifically, we were going to be flying to Frankfurt, which is about a twenty minute drive from our house. As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I was a little worried about traffic getting to the airport, so I encouraged Bill to check us out of the hotel by about 9:00 AM for our 12:45 flight. Although the traffic wasn’t that bad going to the airport, it turned out to be a good call to get to the airport early, especially since Istanbul is not in the European Union.

On our last morning, a harpist came in and played soothing music. It was very pleasant. She played beautifully, and chose selections that were decidedly less weird than Bossa Nova versions of “Like A Virgin” and “Beat It”.

After breakfast, we went back to room 1711, packed up our bags and went back down to the reception. Bill swiftly settled up, and we were lucky enough that a cabbie was already waiting out front for a new fare, so we didn’t even have to wait for a taxi. The taxi driver was the only one of the three we used in Istanbul who was willing to take Turkish Lira. Well… the other two probably would have, too, but they clearly preferred euros.

A couple of views of the huge airport below… Technically, it’s still in Istanbul, but a good distance away from downtown.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Istanbul’s airport is quite new and HUGE, located about 30 minutes away from our hotel in Maslak. It’s not even fully built yet, either. When you enter the building, you have to go through a metal detector and put your bags through a scanner. This is in addition to the usual security procedures that you go through when you have a boarding pass. I probably need to read up more on security issues in the Republic of Türkiye.

We got through the first layer of security, and then had to find our respective baggage drops. Because I was flying business, I had to go to a separate counter in a different area than the economy bag drop. I don’t know how Bill’s experience was, but mine was impressive. I had to ask someone where the business class drop was, and he said it was section “L”. I wonder if the “L” was for luxe… Bill’s drop was in section “B”, I think.

Anyway, the Turkish Airlines business class counter is in its own area that sort of has its own lounge before you even get to the business class lounge! I walked right up to a man who spoke English, noticing that there was no red carpet in the Istanbul Airport for business class passengers. 😉 The guy patiently waited a few minutes while I found my Turkish Airlines Miles and Smiles number. He entered the data for me, tagged my bag, and directed me to the business class lounge, which I opted not to use. Bill would not be able to go in there with me.

We made our way through the second layer of security, which involved the usual metal detector and putting our carry on stuff through an x-ray scanner. Then we walked through the first of many shopping venues. Istanbul Airport has a lot of really high end shops, but also plenty of places to get souvenirs and a bite to eat. I was impressed by the number of restaurants. They kind of put Frankfurt Airport to shame.

One thing I noticed in the airport, as well as in Istanbul in general, was a lack of seating in public areas. Because there weren’t many places to sit and we had some time before our flight, Bill and I decided to have something at an Italian cafe. I ended up having avocado toast on sourdough with two poached eggs, salad, and a big glass of orange juice. Bill had a latte. The lady who waited on us invited us to sit at a four top table, rather than the two top we’d originally chosen. I appreciated that very much! It was considerate of her to do that for us.

*This was 9 euros, but it was fresh, satisfying, and delicious!*

After we had our break at the Italian cafe, enough time had passed for us to make our way to the gate. But as we headed over there, we stopped at a store to pick up some Turkish Delight, magnets, and dried apricots for Bill’s daughter, son-in-law, and grandkids, and a couple of boxes of chocolate and a magnet for us.

While Bill was making his purchases, I was noticing some really interesting looking restaurants, a couple of which were U.S. based and not available in Germany! But there was also a place that had what appeared to have Anatolian cuisine. If we go back through Istanbul by plane, we’ll have to check it out.

After a lengthy and somewhat confusing walk to Gate 9 AB, Bill and I waited until it was time to board. This time, the plane was there on time, and boarding was relatively easy. I had chosen seat 5F, a change from my original choice of 2E. I wanted to sit by a window, and it looked like no one was sitting in seat 5E. Of course, it turned out that a married couple had taken the aisle seats in row 5. That was no big deal at all. There was so much room on the plane! I was, once again, simply amazed by it! Between my seat and the other seat was a large console. And, on this flight, we had entertainment monitors on the seat backs in front of us.

*You can’t tell, but my foot is NOT touching that seat in front of me. I have my leg fully extended. I’m about 5’2″ tall.*

Unfortunately, the service on this flight was not as good as it was on the flight from Frankfurt to Istanbul. It was competent enough, I guess… but noticeably less warm and attentive. It’s probably best to write about this in a list form… and I might sound a bit difficult. But, keep in mind that we spent $1500 on my round trip short haul ticket. For that amount of money, I do expect good service, rather than just competent service. So, here’s my list of complaints.

Pre-departure drinks

Once again, the flight attendant, a rather young and cocky looking male, came around with juices. He didn’t immediately offer the same selection of juices as the flight attendant did on the way to Istanbul. He did have all of the same juices available, but he didn’t initially offer all of them, nor did he identify them. And my orange juice didn’t have a slice of orange in it, as it did on the way down. It’s not a big deal at all, but I did notice it.

2. No Menus

On the flight to Istanbul, the flight attendants handed out printed menus that explained everything that was going to be offered with the in flight meals. There was a list of available drinks, and each meal choice was described, although not very thoroughly. I appreciate menu descriptions, because there are a few things I can’t eat. On this flight, I only saw a few people up front get menus.

3. No verbal description of the meal

When it came time to place my order, the same male flight attendant asked me if I wanted fish or beef, or one of the meals offered to the economy class, chicken or pasta. There were no descriptions. He didn’t even tell me what kind of fish was being offered. I did end up selecting the fish, while the people next to me both had the pasta, which I noticed they nicely plated for business class, rather than just giving them the plastic containers that the people in economy got.

The meal itself was okay. The starter was smoked salmon with some kind of slaw and a single shrimp on it. There was also cheese, eggplant salad, bread and butter, and a delicious chocolate eclair. The fish turned out to be some kind of dense fleshy variety– maybe swordfish or shark. It might have been sea bass. I honestly don’t know, because the flight attendant didn’t bother to tell me, or apologize for the lack of a menu. There’s a big difference between trout, salmon, and tuna, you know.

4. Bread service and wine

The same flight attendant brought around a bread basket with warm breads. He barely showed me what was in the basket and asked me to point to which roll I wanted. I tried to point to the one I preferred, but he just gave me a random one. It was pretty perfunctory and not impressive at all. He brought me some wine, but never bothered to ask if I wanted water or something else.

Again, not anything earth shatteringly bad, but it was noticeably poorer service than his colleagues on the other flight, who were obviously more interested in doing their jobs properly. And when I finished the wine, it took him a long time to come back and collect the empty glass. He picked it up when he brought out the bags of hazelnuts.

5. Attitude

That particular male flight attendant seemed pretty much over his job. He was outwardly a bit rude to me. When we were descending into Frankfurt, I was leaning forward in my seat and he demanded, “Madame, do you have your seat belt on?” I assured him I did, and instead of smiling, saying “thank you”, and being friendly, he just sort of smirked at me and almost rolled his eyes. By that point, I was getting pretty exasperated with his not too subtly concealed asshole behavior.

His colleague seemed much friendlier and more sympathetic, but she spent a long time assisting a gentleman a couple of rows in front of me. I wondered what her male colleague’s problem was. Was it me? Did I specifically do something to offend him? Or does he just want the perks of being a flight attendant, without actually doing his job properly?

Maybe he doesn’t like fat, middle-aged, American women traveling alone in business class. Perhaps I should have heeded Trump’s Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy’s advice to dress up for my flight. Or maybe he just isn’t generally suited to the service oriented jobs that require interacting with the public with kindness and consideration. I’ll bet he would never take it upon himself to pre-emptively clean and deodorize the lavatory for me after a windy fellow passenger had used it, though, as his colleague did for me on the way to Istanbul.

I busied myself taking more pictures of the clouds… I liked that the airline’s WiFi worked, as did the monitors showing our progress from Istanbul to Frankfurt.

Overall

I thought it was a good flight and I am impressed by Turkish Airlines. I would definitely fly them again, if the opportunity arises. Their business class product is mostly better than Lufthansa’s– at least when it comes to the actual seat and leg room. But that flight attendant who was looking after me was a bit of an asshole, in my opinion. I don’t think I did anything to warrant his snarky, inattentive, half-assed behavior. And at $1500 for a ticket, I do expect better service than what he delivered… even if it does make me sound like a high maintenance prima donna.

We landed in Frankfurt about 20 or 30 minutes early, so we had to wait about ten minutes before we could park the plane and disembark. Once we did that, I got off the plane as quickly as I could. I needed to find a loo. But first, I had to go through passport control. The young German police officer sitting in the booth asked me what I was doing in Germany. I said, “I live here. There’s a SOFA card at the back of my passport.” He quickly found the card and waved me through, but not before giving me a charming smile when I said “Dankeschön” to him. The cocky flight attendant could take a lesson from the passport control guy. 😉

I felt a little sorry for the guy who was on the other side of the booth. He was getting the third degree from passport control about his decision to enter the European Union. They were asking him about his profession and his citizenship status. Yikes!

It took some time to get our bags. Mine came out early, but Bill’s was not removed from the aircraft until near the end of the line. But then, he WAS in the cheap seats.

We got a taxi home, and I was soon left sitting there bewildered at our whirlwind trip to the Middle East. I’m now especially glad I went with Bill, even though we didn’t do as much as I had hoped we would. It turns out he has to leave again on Sunday. He’s got to fly to the United States and work there next week. I’ll be all alone, buying Christmas presents. I wish I’d had a chance to buy some art in Türkiye, but maybe another opportunity will arise and we can do some proper shopping. And maybe next time, Bill can join me in business class. I’ll bet that cocky twerp flight attendant would not have acted the way he did if Bill had been with me. 🤨

Anyway, so ends the “blow by blow” account of my quick trip to Istanbul. I’ll soon do my usual “ten things I learned” post to end this series. Stay tuned!

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Beef ‘n Beer… A new spot for us in Hofheim…

We woke to a foggy morning, which made us less interested in going to a wine tasting in the nearby hamlet of Hofheim. We did need to go out, though… or really, I needed to go out. So we decided to stop by a Hofheim burger joint called Beef ‘n Beer, which is right next to a mall called the Chinon Center. Two hours parking there cost one euro!

The restaurant’s Web site tells me that there are two locations, the one in Hofheim, and one in Kelkheim, which is a place I have yet to visit. With a name like Beef ‘n Beer, we were thinking maybe they’d have a list of beers to try, but alas, the beer selection was not that impressive or expansive. However, the restaurant doesn’t take an afternoon pause, has a full bar, and offers a variety of salads, sandwiches, burgers, and main dishes.

We ended up having to search for parking, because a lot of people were out today. We managed to snag a spot on the top level of the parking garage at the Chinon Center, then it was easy to walk to the restaurant. An attractive waitress invited us to sit anywhere we wanted. She didn’t speak English to us, but I did hear her speak perfect English to another patron. I’m not sure he was American, either. He could have been from Sweden, for all I know!

I ended up ordering an Avocado Burger, which was a burger with bacon, cheese, onions, lettuce and avocado slices. Bill had The Original Australian, which was a sandwich on a sub roll with Argentinian beef strips, fried onions, tomatoes, pickles, and lettuce. Both sandwiches came with steak fries and cole slaw.

The Avocado Burger was good, but I couldn’t finish it. It also had a molded patty, which I don’t usually like the texture of, though it wasn’t too off putting at Beef ‘n Beer. Bill loved his sandwich. I think I might order that next time, or come hungrier and try one of the main courses. They have steaks, salmon, dorade, and even spare ribs.

I enjoyed the chilled out ambiance in the restaurant, which included comfortable bench seating and cool music. It’s also a dog friendly place. One guy brought his two dogs with him, and I almost tripped over his sweet black Labrador as we entered the place. In warmer months, there’s a small Biergarten area, too. Bill and I both commented that we expected more of a beer selection, but they had stuff we were happy to drink. I’m sure it pleases the local clientele.

Lunch came to a little over 36 euros, which Bill paid for with cash. He could have used a card, too, an option I see is spreading rapidly in Germany. For the longest time, paying with a card wasn’t such a common thing to do here. I guess COVID changed that somewhat.

After lunch, we walked downtown to see if anything was going on. We ended up stopping in a little hole in the wall Fair Trade shop, which offered coffees, teas, condiments, soaps, baby clothes, and wines, all of which came from Fair Trade sources. We bought some coffee, soap, almond butter, wine, and chocolate. How many times have we walked past the Weltladen without noticing? I don’t know, but I will make a point of stopping in again. They have some cute stuff! I love Hofheim, too. It’s a nice town.

Then we completed the loop around Hofheim and took a short rest near the Wine Chalet. For once, we didn’t partake of any wine. We just sat there, enjoyed the change of scenery and lovely cool fall temperatures and colors, as well as a little irreverent graffiti. I feel like I’ve almost missed the fall this year, as worried as I’ve been about Arran.

Speaking of Arran… below is a video of how he and Noyzi welcomed us home…

That chemo is good stuff.

Wednesday, we’re going to Ribeauville, France for our 20th wedding anniversary. Originally, our plan was to stay until November 20 (Sunday). However, we were supposed to see James Taylor in concert in Frankfurt on November 8. He came down with COVID and had to cancel several shows. Poor guy has been stuck in Zurich all week… which is not such a bad place to be stuck. He was able to reschedule Frankfurt for November 19th. So, if the show is still going on next Saturday night, we’re going to come home a day early and see him play. We have second row seats, after all. Not sure that will ever happen again! If he has to cancel again, we’ll stay in France for another night. Either way, we’re paid up, and we have appealing plans.

It’s nice to have first world problems.

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A marvelous afternoon at Little Italy…

Regular readers of my main blog may notice that I’ve been kind of crabby lately. I was especially irritable yesterday, since I was trying to write the blog post I posted earlier today while listening to kids outside my window shrieking and trying to respond to a private message. I get really cranky when I’m trying to write and can’t concentrate on what I’m doing. I probably should have been on ADD meds when I was a kid because I am very easily distracted. On top of that, I had a tension headache, and Bill was bugging me about going to AAFES. We did need to go to AAFES (military run department store), even though I hate going there, especially now that everyone has to wear face masks.

Military facilities are even more anal retentive about COVID-19 protocol than other places are. Although the guards have stopped giving drivers the third degree every time they enter the gates, there’s still a very strict mask requirement, entry and exit protocol, and handwashing detail. And while it may be necessary for sparing people from getting sick, I also remember that not too long ago, it was not uncommon to find the restrooms at AAFES in pretty disgusting shape. I have pictures of ones I encountered in Stuttgart as well as vivid memories of the remnants of other people’s dumps lingering in the toilets at the food courts. So while enforcing the over-the-top COVID-19 requirements may be a very good idea right now, they seem rather disingenuous to me after a lifetime of patronizing the BX/PX (AAFES).

I finally gave up on the blog post after trying to upload a few photos. I came back to my post, only to find that over half of it was somehow wiped out. After uttering a few choice words at the computer screen, I went downstairs, where Bill was busily “beagle proofing” (although Arran is probably more of a pointer than a beagle). He asked me if I was hungry. I legitimately wasn’t, although I knew that we were about to hit the dreaded “pause” hour of 2:00pm. Bill proposed picking up a pizza from Pizza Hut, because I had mentioned getting a pizza somewhere (I meant at a real restaurant). I used to like Pizza Hut pizzas, but they have really gone downhill over the past ten years or so.

So anyway, we went to AAFES. I dutifully put on the fucking mask and washed my hands, rushing to pick up the few items I needed… expensive Lancome face cream for my middle aged face, ponytail holders for my growing grey hair, and a couple of new dog toys for Arran to replace the ones he’s destroyed. I love that Arran is ten and still loves his toys. I don’t love that he only recently quit using my favorite rug as a Hundetoilet. God help us when the new pooch moves in, sometime soon. Bill picked up some more shit bags for the dog walking, of which we could soon be legally compelled to do twice as much of at some point soon (though I doubt it will be enforced).

As we were waiting in the obnoxious checkout line that stretched down the lotion and skincare aisle, Bill asked me what I wanted to do about lunch. I had no desire to eat in the food court, so initially, I said we should go by Five Guys and get takeout. But then I remembered Little Italy, a great restaurant I’ve blogged about several times since our move to Wiesbaden. There is a Little Italy on post. That’s not the one I’m writing about now. I am referring to a small restaurant in the heart of Wiesbaden, where they serve lovely Italian dishes, nice wines, and luscious desserts. Before the pandemic, we used to go there fairly often. Yesterday was our first time back since February, I think.

Bill made a reservation on OpenTable.de, noting that Little Italy does not take an afternoon pause. We got there at about 2:15pm. The proprietor, a friendly bald guy who speaks English, looked slightly panicked when Bill announced our arrival. Bill then noticed that the entire dining room was set as if there was going to be a large party. But when Bill said we had a reservation, he told us to find a table outside. The weather was glorious, so that was a pleasure to do.

A lovely young woman came over to take our drink order and have us sign the paperwork for contract tracing. Bill got me a glass of white wine from Sicily. He got himself a white wine from Lugano. Then, we both ordered dishes from the specials, presented on a chalk board in front of us. Bill had saltimbocca made of dorade. I had a salmon filet with rucola pesto, mashed sweet potatoes, and ratatouille (pisto).

A familiar place. We love to have late Sunday lunches at Little Italy.

While we were waiting for our food, a large group of well-dressed people showed up. I soon gathered that this was why the proprietor had looked a little stressed when we arrived. There were bottles of bubbly chilling in ice buckets until umbrellas near us. I had mistakenly thought they had set up a little wine stand, but no, that was for the people partying at Little Italy. Hopefully, none of them were carriers of the COVID-19 virus, since they weren’t wearing masks.

A tiny little blonde girl of about three came over to play with the Champagne bottles pictured in the gallery above. She had huge blue eyes and was sincerely adorable. We smiled at her while she played with the bubbly bottles and the nearby decorative water fountain. A few minutes later, I heard her shrieking as her mom struggled to contain her. Finally, mom put her in the stroller and methodically strapped her down while she wailed. I figured it was probably nap time for her… having been cranky myself a little while ago, I could commiserate, too.

I soon forgot about being cranky as we enjoyed lunch. I mostly enjoyed the bright colors of my dish, even if I’m not the biggest ratatouille or sweet potato fan. I managed to finish most of it, with Bill’s help. Bill really loved the dorade, which was accented with sage and bacon. He said he would definitely order it again if he had the opportunity.

As we were eating, the little blonde girl came outside. I watched her pick her nose while her grandmother smoked a cigarette. It occurred to me that kids are just so unabashed and unashamed about anything. Maybe watching that tiny girl explore the world around her without a mask is why I found this morning’s New York Times article about training kids to wear masks so very depressing. The masks have the effect of making communication and exploration more difficult, especially for the youngest among us. But, with any luck, there will be an effective vaccine or treatment that will make this brave new pandemic world less ominous and irritating. I always wanted to have children, but I am grateful I’m not a parent dealing with this pandemic stuff right now. I think it would drive me crazy.

For dessert, I had limoncello sorbet with mangos and pears, while Bill had tiramisu. Neither of us really needed dessert, but the weather was just so nice, and I was enjoying being out and about, watching people celebrate in a normal way. I used to take doing stuff on the weekends for granted. Now, when we get to have lunch somewhere nice, it’s a real treat. Maybe that’s one of the silver linings to the COVID-19 situation. I’ve often said that every bad situation has its positives. I don’t take a nice meal at a good restaurant for granted as I might have in 2019…

The bill was about 89 euros. Bill gave our lovely waitress a 100 euro note and said “Stimmt”. We really had a nice time. I hope we can do it again sometime soon. Then we came home and I set to work trying to wash the stench out of Arran’s Klo on my blue carpet. It’s now outside drying… and I fear that my efforts may have been for naught. Oh well… at least we had a good meal, and hopefully, we’ll stay healthy.

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Big business in Poland, part ten

At last, it was Friday… the last day of my husband’s big Polish business trip. It promised to be a weird day, since our flight didn’t leave until 7:00pm and check out at the Sofitel was at noon. Fortunately, the staff at the Sofitel granted Bill’s request for a late checkout, so we had use of the room until 3:00pm, even though the hotel was booked. As it turned out, I didn’t need the room beyond noon. The weather was nice, so I decided to walk around the main square and check out the Christmas market, which opened that day. I dropped off a bag with the hotel staff and set out on my last Polish adventure.

First, I was going to have lunch. Originally, I thought I’d go back to the Doctors’ Bar, but for some reason, they appeared to be closed on Friday. Maybe they had a special event, since it looked like it was open, but the door was locked. So then I decided to find another place, which took some time, since I couldn’t decide what I wanted. I hate eating in restaurants alone, because I feel awkward. Eventually, I ended up at a place called Steak ‘N Roll, which appeared to be a steak joint loosely modeled after the Hard Rock Cafe.

There wasn’t any rock star memorabilia on the walls or gimmicky cocktails on the menu, but they were playing rock music on the sound system as they showed unrelated muted rock videos on the monitor. The music and videos were reminiscent of Hard Rock Cafe… and, in fact, I think the music was my favorite part about the experience, which ended up being kind of disappointing.

A tall young man invited me to sit down and handed me a menu in English. I asked him for a large draft beer. He said all they had was dark beer, which was fine with me. He went to get the beer and set it down, then asked if I was ready to order food. I wasn’t, because I was having trouble deciding what I wanted. I kind of didn’t want another burger, but it was either that, a Reuben sandwich, or a steak. They had other stuff on the menu that didn’t really appeal… salads, soups, fish bowls, and such.

I wasn’t sure I wanted a steak for lunch, and didn’t know if I had enough cash, although they do accept credit cards. I don’t really care for Reubens because of the sauerkraut, which I knew would result in a very windy flight. I just wanted a sandwich, and nothing jumped out at me as especially appealing. I asked the guy for another minute or two, which seemed to put him off a bit, even though there was only one other party in the dining room.

After a couple of minutes, the waiter came back and asked for my order. I decided to have the Classic BBQ burger, which consisted of a patty with cucumbers, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, BBQ sauce, and mustard seed mayonnaise. This is not really the way I like my burgers, but the only other regular burger choice was the Alamo Burger, which came with mustard seed & mayonnaise sauce, nachos, cheddar, bacon, tomato salsa, jalapeno, and lettuce. That sounded like a recipe for indigestion. Or I could have had a vegan burger, which came with goat cheese, lavender mustard, rucola, beetroot, and nuts… and that didn’t appeal to me, either. Side note: wouldn’t goat cheese render that burger non vegan?

Once I ordered, the waiter came back with a basket of grilled bread and a side of truffle spread. I’m sure a lot of people love the truffle spread and, in fact, Bill probably would have eaten all of it if he’d been with me. Unfortunately, I have a demonic hatred/phobia of mushrooms and truffles. Just having that spread near me was giving me the willies. I don’t enjoy the aroma of truffles, either, so I left the spread untouched and pushed it far away from me. I know a lot of people think this is crazy. Believe me, my life would have been so much easier if I didn’t hate fungus so much.

Finally, the burger arrived, along with a side of steak fries, which looked really good. However, just like the burger I’d had earlier in the week, the sandwich was too big to bite into. I had to cut it, which made a bit of a mess. Also, they had really slathered on a ton of the mustard seed mayonnaise, so much so that it was dripping copiously from the side in big glops. I don’t know what the deal is with mayo in parts of Europe, but I’ve found that people over here seem to love it and really load their burgers up with it.

I didn’t think the burger was as good as the one I’d had at Doctors’ Bar. The patty didn’t taste very fresh and had been molded, rather than hand shaped. The steak fries looked appealing, but had kind of a weird aftertaste, like maybe the were fried in old oil or something. As I was finishing up, the waiter asked me if I wanted dessert. They had a three items that looked appealing, but I decided I’d rather have another beer. By that point, they also had a lager, which the waiter offered. I told him I wanted another dark beer. I got up to go to the bathroom and when I came back, I found that he’d left me a small beer, even though I’d said I wanted another one and meant I’d wanted one just like the one I was drinking.

So I decided to just finish up and get out of there. I asked for the check, which the guy brought to me. The total was 61 zloty, so I put down a 100 zloty bill and asked him to bring me 30 zloty back. Instead, he brought back the whole amount and said, rather curtly, “Here’s the rest of it.” I kind of sighed and gave the guy a ten zloty note and went on my way. He did kind of smile at that. It occurred to me that he probably didn’t want the coins… who knows? The experience left me in kind of a bad mood, though. I wished I had just eaten shashlik at the stand in the Christmas market that was set up just outside. I probably would have had a better experience.

After I ate, I had a couple of hours to kill. I walked around the main square and took pictures of the Christmas market stalls I’d watched workers constructing all week. I’m glad I got to see them open before we left, although I didn’t end up buying anything. There was nothing there that I couldn’t live without and/or couldn’t buy in Germany. Still, the Christmas markets are kind of cool, and it was interesting to see one in Poland. Here are some photos.

I went back to the hotel a little bit before three and parked myself in the lobby to wait for Bill and his co-worker, who would be sharing a taxi ride to the airport. They got to the hotel at just after 3:00, and we started our journey back to Germany. Our cab driver turned out to be an older Polish guy who spoke broken English and wanted to bond over rock music.

We got in the car and he proceeded to speak to the men and ignore me. Actually, if I had been in a slightly less irritated mood, I probably would have enjoyed talking to him. He told us about how he’d grown up in Poland during the communist era and went to university when Americans weren’t friends. He studied German, because although English was available, learning it wasn’t all that encouraged. What a difference a few decades make. We ran into so many English speakers in Poland. I was shocked by the difference between 2008 and 2019.

Sitting in traffic…. I couldn’t help but notice the dog watching us creep by.

Anyway, the guy kept listing all of his favorite English speaking rock bands… Rush (which he noted is Canadian), Metallica, Journey, and curiously, he even mentioned Blondie, but he wasn’t sure if Debbie Harry was American. He had no way of knowing that I was probably the biggest music buff in his taxi. Bill asked me about Ms. Harry’s citizenship, and I confirmed that she’s from the United States. The taxi creeped along, because Wroclaw has terrible traffic during rush hour and the roads are in the process of being expanded into two lanes. My mood was still slightly sour, mainly because I felt like a third wheel sitting there while Bill and his buddy chatted up the taxi driver.

We finally got to the super nice airport in Wroclaw, and this time, I did not get bumped from business class. I was allowed to use the lounge, but ended up hanging out with Bill and his co-worker at a restaurant. The co-worker turned out to be interesting to talk to, since he’s from Georgia and has a strong accent, but is quite liberal. We were lamenting that Trump is our president, and he told me about his plans to buy homes in different European countries and just rotate from house to house every ninety days. He’s already bought a house in Italy and is looking to buy ones in Germany and England. I’m not sure how well his plan will work, nor do I think it’s very practical, but I can understand the attraction of simply hanging out in Europe for awhile. I’m inclined to do that myself.

Our flight was okay. I was seated in 1A, which was not any more comfortable than any other seat on the small airplane, but had an empty seat next to it. I also got food, which on Lufthansa is at least somewhat edible. Actually, it wasn’t bad at all. We had some kind of guacamole like salad, hummus, panna cotta, chocolates, bread, and red wine. One thing I didn’t like about my seat, though, was that it was right next to the lavatory. At one point, a woman got up to use the toilet and neglected to close the door after herself when she was finished. I happened to be eating when this occurred, so I had a nice view of the toilet while I was chowing down on hummus.

But there was also a very kind flight attendant on board who was very solicitous to me. When I mentioned her to Bill, he knew which one I was talking about, because he’d also noticed how good she was. I’m always heartened when I run into flight attendants who are genuinely pleasant and seem concerned about giving good service as well as maintaining safety. I wish I could have seen her nametag. She’s one for whom I would send compliments to Lufthansa– a true credit to her profession.

We were quick to retrieve our luggage and on our way home before too long. Bill was smart enough to park in “business parking”, which is well worth the expense, and actually comes out cheaper than regular parking, anyway. On Saturday, Arran came back home and was delighted to be with his people again.

I wish we could have done more while we were in Wroclaw. It’s a great city, and I didn’t get to see enough of it. However, I think there could be a chance we’ll come back on our own terms, bringing our own vehicle with us so we can get out and about and try some of the city’s tourist attractions. I particularly would have loved to have sees Hydropolis, which is a museum about water near Wroclaw. And, of course, there are still some places in the area around Wroclaw that I’d like to visit, but with Bill in tow. It’s just a lot more fun to visit these places with someone else.

Next up– ten things I learned in Wroclaw, Poland.

The Traveling Overeducated Housewife

…the wanderings and ramblings of a boring housewife…

Tag Archives: good service

A quick jaunt to Istanbul… (part six)

Beef ‘n Beer… A new spot for us in Hofheim…

A marvelous afternoon at Little Italy…

Big business in Poland, part ten