Mass Transit, German Style

Continuing my series of mass transit blogs, let's talk Germany!

Last October, the hubby and I went to Germany. Not sure if he'd been there previously, but it was my first visit. Given the turmoil of last summer and fall, I did not have the time and/or mental energy to learn much German language before our trip. As the time for our departure drew nearer, I began to fret a bit about my lack of language skills. It's not that I expected or needed to be fluent by any means, but I like to have a few words ready when I travel abroad. Everyone around me said, "Don't worry; everyone speaks some English these days."

not so much.

First of all, hubby was going for a "convention" in Dusseldorf, and all the hotels were fully booked as early as March. So, we were booked into a hotel in Essen, about 30 km northeast of Dusseldorf.

(I realize this is not like my other mass transit blogs.... this does require a bit more of the telling of the story.... hang with me....)

After getting off the plane and navigating through customs and immigration, we stopped off at the information desk, where the lovely lady did, in fact, speak excellent English! Yay! She gave us directions to get from the airport to our hotel using public transport. It was kind of convoluted, though, and I began to worry just a bit. First, we found the SkyTrain, which would take us from the airport to the train. At the train station, then, we needed to buy tickets to Essen and board the correct train. Not quite as easy because none of the ticket sellers spoke English, but a simple "Essen" and 2 fingers did the trick. Tickets in hand, the hunt for the correct track began, suitcases in tow. There were probably 8 tracks, maybe more. And trains coming through very often, for points all over Germany, and beyond. Not realizing that it didn't matter which train to Essen we caught, and that they ran fairly often, we were in a hurry to catch the next one. Breathless, we did, indeed, get on the next train to Essen.

These trains are fast, clean, comfortable, and widely used. Mostly by people traveling between cities, as commuters or visitors, most of whom don't have much in the way of luggage. That means, there's really no place to put suitcases, which we have 2 of. We sat in the entry/exit area, on the steps to the upper section; it's the only place to really put luggage. Every time we stopped, people got on, people got off, and we (and our suitcases) were in the way. No one was ever rude, though, just in a hurry. We arrived at a station where, for some reason, I thought we needed to get off. It's not Essen. I don't even remember now where it was, but I was certain we needed to get off and change trains. I blame it on jetlag.... In fact, we did not need to get off. The train we were on would have taken us to Essen. But we got off, found a "worker" on the platform and asked for the train to Essen. He pointed at the train, departing, that we had just disembarked from. Hubby looked at me, shook his head in amusement and laughed. We waited for the next train to Essen, about 15 minutes later.

Finally, in Essen, we disembarked, navigated the underground tunnels and emerged into the fall afternoon sunlight. Really, it was lovely. We were exhausted. We got into a waiting taxi and hubby gave the driver the name of our hotel. The driver looked perplexed. He gestured "what?" Hubby repeated the name of our hotel. The driver rolled down his window and yelled at the drivers standing around; no one seemed to recognize the name of our hotel. I started laughing, a little hysterically, probably. Hubby, ever prepared, pulled out the printed confirmation and handed it to the driver, who read the address, thought for a moment, handed the paper back and put the car in gear. Hubby said, "yes?" Driver shrugged and wagged his head in the universal gesture of "maybe, maybe not, we'll see." He drove. And drove. I thought we're going in circles. I thought Essen's a small town and we're driving a really long time. Suddenly, Driver pulled a "U-y" in the middle of the street, pulled over to the curb, put the car in park and jumped out. We looked out the window, looking for a hotel. Driver pointed to a sign over a doorway. He's right; this IS our hotel.

We paid; we tipped; we clambered out and gathered our stuff.

After settling in at our hotel, where, by the way, no one speaks English, we decided to go for a walk to the town center. It is our practice to try to get on local time as soon as possible, so we needed to stay up another 6-8 hours. The lady at the front desks walked out with us and pointed us to the train. We asked her, "Can we walk?" She shook her head and said, "No English." We mimicked walking with our fingers. "Walk" (fingers) "city center?" (raised eyebrows) She wagged her finger emphatically and said, "No! train" and pointed. We obeyed.

At the subway/train station there are no turnstiles, no ticket sellers, no "workers" or attendants of any kind. There is a ticket machine which I approached with confidence. I tapped the touchscreen, and voila! Instructions appeared, in German. Clueless, we looked around. There was a teenage girl, sitting, reading, waiting. I approached her and offered a hesitant "guten tag" to which she replied. I asked, "Do you speak English?" She replied, as do 99.9% of people I've ever asked, "A little." I asked, "Can you help me buy a train ticket?" She was wonderful!!!! She went with me to the machine; she showed me step by step what I needed to do. I held out a handful of money to pay for my tickets, which made her giggle as she sorted through to find the coins she needed, showing me all along the way, "this, this, this." The subway was fine. It was a subway. It got us where we wanted to go.

The next day, we noticed a trolley running in the street in front of our hotel. We pointed and asked the good lady at the front desk, who did not speak English, "City center?" She nodded and pointed the other way, away from the train station. So we decided to try the trolley. It became our preferred means of transportation during our stay. Because it is above ground, you see the city! You see the restaurants, the stores, the markets, the street signs; you get a feel for the lay of the land that you don't get when you're traveling underground. You buy a ticket at the stop by putting coins in a machine that then spits out a ticket at you, which no one will ever check, probably, but you better have it just in case. We did see tickets being checked, but ours never were. I loved the trolley. I was very comfortable riding it by myself. I was confident that I knew where I was, where I wanted to go and how to get there. The one kind of odd thing was that the trolley platform in the city center was underground, so that was a little confusing the first time.

Next time: the train to Cologne and Aachen.