The Secret Science of a Seat Upgrade & Fun While Fighting Jetlag July 14, 2010

I arrived back in Germany on Sunday morning, one day later than originally planned. Ah, the joy frustrations of travel. Here’s a recap of what happened:

I got to the Indianapolis Airport on Friday a little after 6pm, and had plenty of time to hang out in the food court area with my mom and dad before flying at 8.16 pm. We said our farewells, I went through security with no problems, and decided to try to speak to someone at the gate about my seat assignment for the trans-Atlantic flight. When I got to the gate, there were already two longish lines at both my gate and the one directly next to it. I figured out that the flight going to Washington Dulles had been delayed by two hours due to weather, so that meant quite a few people were going to miss their connecting flights. The agent at the desk I was waiting in line for appeared to be having a very, very bad day. She kept putting her head down on the desk and rubbing her temples. By the time I finally got up to the desk to speak to her, I had heard murmurings of “Chicago” and “delay”from people around me, and my question changed from “Can I have an aisle seat?” to “Is there a problem with the Chicago flight?” Her eyes got big and wild and she asked her colleague next to her if there was a problem with the Chicago flight, too? He goes, “Oh, yeah….mechanical failure. It hasn’t even left Chicago yet and will probably end up delayed by a couple of hours.” It was then determined that there was no way in you-know-what that I was going to make my connecting flight to Frankfurt. I felt badly I just had made her day worse, and offered her some ibuprofen. It was the least I could do. After a 10-minute break to “get some air,” she re-booked both my flights for the next day and I phoned my mom and dad to come and get me. My dad’s first words were, “Wow, honey…the time really flew by in between visits this time!” Har har.

Both flights on Saturday went smoothly. I had sort of hoped, however, that I might be able to angle for a seat upgrade on the trans-Atlantic flight given that I had been delayed for an entire day due to the mechanical failure.

First-class on a United 747: it probably looked something like this, but I wouldn't really know.

The gate agent in Chicago told me, however, that United would only be responsible to compensate in me in some way if I had been stranded in a city other than my city of origin (i.e. if I had been stuck in Chicago instead). I just accepted what she told me without any kind of fuss, but I still find it a little surprising that I wasn’t entitled to anything after being delayed for a full day due to circumstances within United’s control (i.e. not weather-related). Since I’ve never – ever – been given any kind of seat upgrade, and just about everybody else under the sun and their brother has at some point, I keep wondering what the secret formula for success is?  I know airline reward programmes offer upgrades, but I’m talking about all the people I hear about who get seemingly random ones. Is it sheer luck? Pushiness? Calamity? When the Mr. and I flew to Vegas to get married with my wedding dress in tow, I thought, “Maybe, just maybe….” Nada. Of course I’ve had flights cancelled, delayed, etc. but never an upgrade to show for it. And on numerous occasions I’ve graciously been the volunteer to swap seats to accommodate a family, or to balance out the plane…zip. I wonder, if I were struck by lightning on the tarmac walking out to the plane, perhaps then I’d get a seat upgrade? Even a teensy one?? Nah, probably not. Anyhow, I did manage to get an aisle seat and some sleep, so I’m thankful for both of those things. And of course thankful that the plane didn’t go down. Always a satisfied customer when that doesn’t happen.

The Mr. met me at the airport and I was VERY delighted to discover he had rented a car. I had warned him numerous times that my luggage was going to be very heavy and cumbersome, so it might be in our best interest to just rent a car instead of trying to take the train back. He was holding firm, though, that the train was more convenient and a better option (for him. See, this is key. Trying to lug around luggage on a train is never the convenient and “better” option for me.) When I saw him at the airport he explained that the train times on Sunday morning hadn’t really been ideal, so he decided at the last minute it might make more sense to just go ahead and rent something. He got a Volkswagen Scirocco, a little car with a whole heck of a lot of vroooom.

It goes real, real fast.

Since he had rented a car, we figured “why not make use of it?” and do a little sightseeing. Keeping me up on my feet would also reduce the chances of falling asleep on my bed in the middle of the day and turning into a snarling bear when wakened. So from the airport, we decided to go check out Darmstadt, a city that the Mr. had once studied in. Darmstadt town center is, well, kind of depressing. It was flattened during WWII and was rebuilt quickly and without character. I really found myself why we were bothering to visit at all. But then The Mr. took me to an area of Darmstadt that wasn’t destroyed and is full of gorgeous art nouveau houses and buildings. Count me impressed.

Darmstadt in all its glory.

After Darmstadt, we headed to a little village with a castle called Burg Stettenfels where we met the Mr.’s parents and his sister and her family for dinner.

Burg Stettenfels

We had dinner outside on the grounds of a castle overlooking the town. It was a beautiful evening; warm, but not too buggy or humid. I think I like summer in Germany, as long as it doesn’t get too hot. We’ll get to that in a minute.

In general I had trouble staying awake in the car for very long, but the good thing was that for some reason I would only need a power nap of 20 minutes or so, and then I would be awake for a while. Then I’d need a nap again, but I’d wake up. (Unfortunately the napping began a couple of times while the Mr. was in the middle of telling me something. Oopsy.) Somehow driving around and cat-napping in between destinations seems to be the ideal solution for jet-lag as you’re never allowing yourself to fall into a deep sleep but you are recharging the batteries a bit. (And at one point I woke up to find us driving 100 mph on the autobahn, so this is also an effective cure for jet-lag, causing instant alertness. Not that I’d recommend it, though.)

By the time we got home that night, I was pretty tired but still managed to stay up until about 11.30pm. Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep very well as Germany’s having a bit of a heat wave at the moment, and no one has air conditioning at home. Or on public buses. It’s just plain wrong, people. Today the temperature got up to 95 degrees, and I nearly died from a heat stroke walking into town, but that’s a story for another day.

Fahrvergnügen: Or Germany’s Love Affair with Driving Really, Really Fast March 22, 2010

Germany is a country known for its high quality vehicles and its essentially speed limit-free Autobahns, or motorways. Germans love their cars and love to drive them so much there’s even a term for it: “Fahrvergnügen,” which means “driving enjoyment.” This past weekend I experienced first-hand what German Fahrvergnügen looks like on the autobahn, and luckily survived to tell the tale. I say “luckily” because I think every time we successfully exit an autobahn from now on I am going to be both amazed and thankful that we didn’t die. Every time.

The Mr. and I decided that a few weeks ago that it might make sense to rent a car so we could check out the surrounding villages around Würzburg more efficiently. We did the patriotic thing and rented a compact Mercedes-Benz, and grew very attached to our “Baby Merc.” It certainly made life easier with the Mr.’s commute, grocery shopping, and being able to explore outside the city so on Friday the Mr. rented another Baby Merc, this time for a month. This one is an automatic, but unfortunately I’m not insured to drive it so my Fahrvergnügen will have to be limited to parking lots.

On Saturday, we drove Baby Merc to Iphofen, a little village about a half-hour’s drive from Würzburg. Iphofen is lovely. Unfortunately, I don’t have any of my own photos to share as I stupidly allowed my camera’s connecting cable to go into storage, but this Wikipedia page has some nice photos of the village. The Mr. found Iphofen to be one of the nicest, most “upscale” German medieval villages he’s ever seen. Our guess is that the town has quite a bit of dosh because of the local factory which produces gypsum boards. In addition to numerous little cafes and bakeries, the town also had some very nice-looking hotels and lots of “vinoteks,” or wine-tasting rooms. We went into one and tried a couple local wines. We had the option to either pay for a tasting (which I think would have been a full glass) or receive complimentary small pours, which we did for a couple different wines. We ended up purchasing a slightly sweet Riesling wine that could work well as an aperitif or as a dessert wine. Afterwards we went to a cafe for afternoon cake & coffee and I pushed my lactose intolerance to the limit with a whipped cream-filled chocolate cake concoction. I’m pretty good these days with being able to handle just about any type of dairy product, but I can’t do too much or else I pay the price. This cake reminded me of this fact later that evening…ugh….After cake & coffee, our sat nav system directed us to the nearby autobahn. The Mr. said, “might as well” and we took off for our first autobahn driving experience together.

Firstly, to set the scene, it was dusk and raining a little. So the conditions weren’t horrible but they also weren’t ideal. This doesn’t stop your average joe German driver, however, from thinking it’s still a good idea to drive 110 mph weaving in and out of traffic. While not everyone drives this insanely (we went about 75 to 80 mph most of the time, which is the recommended speed) they were definitely plenty of suicidal idiots who passed us at these speeds. In the rain. At one point, the Mr. decided he wanted to switch a lane over. He looked. Then I looked, too, to be extra safe. I noticed there was a car in that lane, but it was quite some distance back. All of my previous driving experience tells me this ok – he’s way behind us. Only problem is, we’re not calculating that he’s probably going at least 110, maybe 120 mph. So by the time the Mr. is changing lanes over to the left, this idiot has ignored the Mr.’s turn signal and has to do a quick swerve to the left to avoid colliding with us. I’m practically hyperventilating, can’t believe we almost died, but in reality, THIS IS NORMAL. This is how many Germans like to drive, period. I’m sure he/she didn’t even blink.

Anyway, we survived so on Sunday we drove on the autobahn again about an hour to Rothenburg ob der Tauber. I visited Rothenburg nearly fifteen years ago when I went to Germany for the first time on a high school trip. I didn’t remember much about it except the medieval torture museum, which I don’t recall actually touring. Rothenburg is one of Germany’s top tourist destinations as it is a marvelously preserved medieval town and is really quite interesting to explore. On this visit I didn’t check out the medieval torture museum but I did visit the German Christmas Museum, which I very much enjoyed (the Mr. complained that it’s March so I toured alone as I love Christmas at any time of year.) The afternoon cake du jour this time was apple & gooseberry with a meringue topping, which was thoroughly delicious.  We also purchased Rothenburg “schneeballs“, or snowballs,  for later as apparently they are a local specialty.  They look a bit like a ball of yarn dipped in chocolate or sugar, and taste something like a crunchy elephant ear. Very tasty.

Our exploring finished, we hopped on the autobahn and thankfully, it was uneventful. And by that I mean there were still plenty of nuts rushing past us at 120 mph or faster and I was still amazed we survived.