Frankfurt

Julie and I sadly departed Athens yesterday, the weather had finally come around and we were getting some of the sun we had been looking for. We visited the Parthenon before taking off around 6pm; just in time to witness a beautiful sunset from the plane window. The flight passed quickly and we landed roughly 3 hours later in Frankfurt.

Side Note: For the record, airplane food (at least on United and Lufthansa) is NOT bad, it is actually quite GOOD and usually just what the doctor ordered. Just had to say that. I am sure most of you already know that its just that I have been living my life under the impression that the food on planes was gross and I was shocked to discover the contrary.

We get to Frankfurt, exhausted and ready to crash at the hostel I had looked up early in the day. We were all set to hop on the S-Bahn when I suggested we call ahead and make sure that there is actually room available. We called and were informed that they were booked solid, not even a SINGLE dorm bed was available. With no backup in mind, we entered into a brief state of shock followed by a frenzied search for hotel info somewhere, anywhere! Both of us were not into the idea of spending another night in an airport.

I found a Frankfurt welcome brochure thing that had hotel listings inside. I called 3 and soon had 3 different sets of rates and directions scrawled out in front of me. I was not in the mood to go hunting for a rando hotel at this time of night with this big ass backpack on my back--we had to find something closer.

I found an information computer and discovered that there was a hotelservice desk upstairs, we ran to it. Another 15 minutes passed and we were on the shuttle bus to the Express by Holiday Inn for 67 euro. Shuttle to and from the airport, buffet breakfast, HOTEL room, shower...thats more like it! Tragedy turned triumph, a perfect way to wrap up our trip together.

Julie hopped on the 11am airport bus back to Strasbourg this morning and I suddenly found myself on my own again; the feeling hit me pretty hard as the bus pulled away. I went back inside the airport and made my way to the way-too-nice set of reclined benches that Julie and I had discovered a week earlier waiting for our flight to Athens. I sat down, scribbled out a new itinerary for my the next month, then had a sudden urge to write. I grabbed my pen and a scrap of paper, this is what came out:

February 24th, 2008

Today marks the day of my first thoughts of home; the day that the magnitude of the trip I have undertook really begins to set in. I have been on the move for just over a month now. I have been both alone and with Julie. I am starting to miss the security and comfort of home, of a place to stay at night, of food to eat. Every meal is a struggle, every Euro reluctantly placed on the counter of the super market, the reception desk. Every movement calculated and scheduled by the almighty dollar. The pressure of a budget, of debt, of a draining bank account-it makes life hard to live. It makes you yearn for a home, a place to return to after an adventure where all is calm, where you can reflect on the days past and lessons learned.

We take a lot for granted in our lives. Luckily, we usually realize what those things are before we lose them. Today I have realized one more of those things, and it has left a feeling inside me that no amount of time in a reclined airport chair or in the lounge of a hostel can soothe. It has been a month and yet it feels like an eternity, a million faces have crossed my path; few familiar. This life on the road, in airports, in train or bus stations surrounded by languages foreign to my ears-is this what I dreamt it would be? I am beginning to realize that my destiny is not to travel, it is to live. I am most happy when I have a home, a place of my own, a place that I can create and mold into something I love, in a place that I love. Week to week travel is not me. It is exciting and tiring, stressful and exhilarating all at once-but it's not me. I want to travel and live, travel and live! I want to sample the world in months not days. I miss the feeling of home. The world is my home, but right now I am drifting, worried and tired.

OK, OK kinda heavy I know but don't worry, really I'm OK, I promise. I was feeling a lot of different things when I sat and wrote that, it's real, it was in the moment, it happened--that is why I decided to include it in this entry. Life on the road is not easy and it is nowhere near as glamorous as I thought it might be. That said, lets get to some pictures! Yaaay!

Keeping in mind that I was walking around the city on a Sunday afternoon, here are my initial observations (likely to be proved false tomorrow when the work week begins)

Frankfurt is an interesting city. It seems like a city that was built just a little too big for the population it contains--there is a lot of space here. Sidewalks aren't crowded, streets are wide and mostly quiet, and skyscrapers! Haven't seen those in awhile. It seems almost like an American city in a lot of ways, just with sex shops and peep shows around every corner. Like I said, it was a Sunday afternoon, so I didn't really expect many people to be out and about, but we'll see tomorrow.




I just want to take a minute before this next photo to talk about street shooting, I promise to keep this brief.

Photography on the street is photography in its rawest form, it is beyond capturing a moment, it transcends the traditional bounds of what photography is. It is a game. It is instinct driven.

There are 2 ways of shooting on the street:
1) Compose and wait
2) Dive in and react

There are however, rare instances when the two overlap. When you see a shot, position yourself, and suddenly, without warning, the exact elements you want appear and you have but a split second to react.

Henri Cartier-Bresson said it best, 3 different times:

Photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing and when they have vanished there is no contrivance on earth which can make them come back again.

Photography is an immediate reaction, drawing is a meditation.

The creative act lasts but a brief moment, a lightning instant of give-and-take, just long enough for you to level the camera and to trap the fleeting prey in your little box.

And so, I present my photo of the day.