I think it’s Monday...
Maybe it’s just the lack of sleep, arriving in Frankfurt at 7:45 am after restless attempts at repose on the airbus, but the Krauts seem kinda rude to me. Rude isn’t the right word--it’s “judgmental.”
I was scoffed at, I tell you!!
By the young Aryan customs agent who checked my Passport when I arrived at FRA. It went like this:
him: “What’s your final destination?”
me: “Львів, Ukraine.”
him: “UGH… Why would you want to go to Ukraine?!”
This is not even an exaggeration, it’s verbatim. Is it just me, or does that seem really unprofessional. Well, if nothing else, it’s totally uncool, man.
I feel a bit like a homeless zombie as I wait the duration of two hours for #2 of my 3 flights within this 48 hour stretch, trying desperately to find a corner where I can catch some zzzzzzzzzzzs..
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| this looks like a good snooze spot :) |
This airport vacillates harder than El Centro. One minute, a row of seats, desolate. Four minutes later, a bunch of tall, svelte blondes with blue eyes and their well-dressed blonde/blue children appear, and they appear to frown upon my airport terminal chair sprawling. Can’t a bitch get some rest?!
The heat is cranked ALLLLLL the way up to 11, which makes no sense because supposedly it’s 25.5 celsius outside (it doesn’t sound that bad to Western ears, but that’s like 80 degrees). This prompts me to shed a layer, revealing copious tats. That was not well-received by two Claudia Schiffettes who make no attempt to conceal their disapproval. Sorry to offend you, Meine Damen… Can’t wait to see what Vienna airport is like.
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| It's probably so damn fun to drive those luggage trains! |
NB- The powers that be seem to randomly change gate numbers at Frankfurt airport on a whim. I’ve seen quite a few poor saps running frantically through the corridors, hauling ass on moving sidewalks, cutting through Duty Free as if they are late for a plane. It this a sadistic German Witz to force tubby Westerners like myself to do some calisthenics in an airport that’s the temperature of a sauna? Who runs this place--the bad guys from Beerfest?!
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| Das ist nicht kühl, Mann. |
There is a saving grace. I did happen to catch a big ol’ whiff of sauerkraut when I walked past the food court. No matter that it was like, eight in the morning. You ain’t all bad, Frankfurt am Main. Catch you on the flip.
10:59 am, Frankfurt time, 7/21
The next challenge of the day: the flight from Frankfurt to Wien was delayed juuuuuust long enough for me to possibly miss my connecting flight. OS381 from Wien to Львів is set to depart at 12:30pm. Our eta from Frankfurt to Vienna is 12:20… glad I wore my flats.
12:49 pm (I think), Vienna, Austria
Welp, looks like the tables have turned on old Nin. This time, I had the pleasure of being one of those frantic individuals hauling ass through the airport trying to make a connecting flight. Apparently Karma is a Bitch who thinks that I could stand to lose a couple pounds. Also, allow me to be the first to say that Vienna International Airport definitely operates on European time.
It’s the design and functionality of this place that intrigues me. Take the transition from LH1236 to OS381, for instance. We arrive in Vienna with exactly 17 minutes until the scheduled departure to Львів. So I exit the plane, expecting to step into an airport terminal. But naw, it’s a flight of steps leading us right onto the tarmac. And waiting on the tarmac: a shuttle. w...t...f… Thankfully the flight attendant was proactive enough to find out the gate number: G37.
Here’s a summary of the next 16 minutes and 47 seconds of my life: Grab my carry-ons, hustle down the steps, hop in the shuttle (position myself by the door, of course), exit the shuttle at a set of automatic doors that I am hoping is the main terminal (fingers crossed), enter and run up a flight of steps, run up an escalator, sharp right, run up another escalator, dodge a large family of Indian folk who can’t seem to decide whether they want to go for a ride on the escalator or not, barrel through what appears to be the terminal, cut a corner through Duty Free like a bull, run up to the customs window, <STAMP>, “Danke,” pass through the customs door into what looks like another terminal, see a sign for gates G 1-99 (1-99?! oy), run down a hallway following signs for ‘G’... moving sidewalk! (out of order), departures screen: OS 381 to Львів delayed until 13:00. It is exactly 12:37 pm. Great success!
> BUT <
What of the large family (two parents, four kids under the age of ten) who were on LH1236 and needed to make the same connection? The parents had Ukrainian accents, but the kids didn’t speak a lick of Ukie. I think I overheard them saying they were going to visit баба… Must...do...something.
So, I inform the counter person, the boarding pass checker, the passport checker, the flight attendant outside the plane, the flight attendant inside the plane. If they allowed passengers near the cockpit, I would have probably told the captain too.
The family made it; 12:53 pm.
Take off for Львів, 1:09 pm.
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