Hanau is even smaller than Erfurt. In fact, it doesn’t even show up on any of the maps I found of Germany online. Imagine my delight when the clerk at our hotel in Frankfurt printed off some information about Hanau showing that it has nine museums. I imagined that we would get off the train and discover a quaint little village with everything centrally located in a town square (maybe even with cobblestones) lined with shops selling Brothers Grimm books and paraphernalia. We tried to find a schedule of the fairy tale plays they put on at the festival, but there was no such specific information to be found online. Not to worry, we thought, there will be a tourist information booth at
the train station when we get there.
Au contraire. The train station had nothing. We finally found a map and discovered that a) Hanau is spread out and b) so are all their attractions. We found a bus that was going to go to one of the sites we picked, but decided it
would take too long (we were on a time crunch, not wanting to miss our flights) so we took a taxi to the Hessian Doll Museum.
I was never a big fan of dolls, but the museum is well worth the trip because it covers their history from ancient times to present and the ways they were used as a means of teaching children how to function in society. I was particularly
interested in the elaborate doll houses they had that included specialty shops (carpets, art, jewelry, even lingerie) and very specific details in each room.
We agreed that Hanau would be a nice place to visit, if you had a rental car and knew the schedule of the plays so you could watch one. I took a pamphlet I found (almost hidden) at the museum of the play schedule from this year so I’d have a general idea of when they run for some other summer if I get the chance to come back.
That was all we had time for. (If I go back I’d like to check out the Goldsmiths’ Museum and maybe the historical one.) So, we boarded the train for the airport. Carrie and I had lunch together and then she headed for her gate because her flight left a few hours before mine. She graciously gave me a book of crossword puzzles which came in handy because the Frankfurt airport is a bit of a disappointment in terms of shops, restaurants, available seating, internet access and anything else you could expect. I had to take a sky train out to my terminal and the only cheap food available out there was McDonald’s. Not that I minded eating chicken McNuggets knowing what I was going to
return to, culinary-wise.
I always get depressed at the end of a trip, at least, at the end of the trips I take while I’m here. When I lived in America, coming home from a trip meant a) that I was coming home b) that I could ease back into life by scrapbooking my experience right away while everything was fresh c) that I could still get good food and d) usually the weather was about the same as what I left behind.
The weather in Germany was pretty cool (I had to borrow Carrie’s fleece) and it rained on three or four of our days (I had to buy an umbrella). Within that week, I had gotten accustomed to the weather. So when I stepped outside into the sun my first day back in Turkmenistan, I just about died. That day the thermometer in my taxi’s car said it was 40 degrees Celsius outside; that’s 104 Fahrenheit. I forgot I had packed some peppermint filled chocolate in my suitcase and it melted. It got on some of my clothes, but just the cream filling, so it washed out.
I definitely want to visit Germany again. There are cities I didn’t get to see and I never did get a chance to eat
weisswurst or Black Forest cake. I did eat a Berliner in Berlin. If I go back, I’d rent a car and drive the Fairy Tale road, starting in Hanau (when the festival’s on!) and go to places like Bremen and Hamelin. And I really want to eat a hamburger in Hamburg. Maybe by then I won’t be saying ‘hawa’ (Turkmen for ‘yes’) when I mean to say‘ja.’ I really hate that my first instinct now is to blurt out Turkmen when I’m not talking to an English speaker.