Frankfurt am Main

Map

February 13–17, 2003

Frankfurt above and the Main below.

The city isn’t very big. That’s why there isn’t that much to tell. Frankfurt’s airport is one of the world’s largest transit hubs — it rivals the city itself in terms of surface area. Yet there isn’t much to say about the airport either, except that it’s organised in a very dumb way.

Out of the plane window Frankfurt resembles an urban-type settlement. There are twenty or so skyscrapers in the centre; this helps the locals feel like they’re New Yorkers. Let’s humour them and pick the most favourable angle.

The biggest thing in Frankfurt both on the map and in real life is the exhibition centre. An animated blacksmith stands out in front symbolising industriousness day and night.

The purpose of my trip was an exhibition called “Ambiente”, where all of the manufacturers and buyers of all sorts of random stuff, from gravy boats to watches, meet every year.

On my second day there my wallet was stolen from my pocket. It was done very skilfully, so much so that I didn’t even notice anything. I’d always been convinced that you could only pry my wallet from me by brute force. But this discreet traveling salesman didn’t think so: it took him one second to dispossess me of all of my credit cards. My stolen credit cards got me thinking yet again — given that your bank’s phone number is printed on the stolen card, how do you figure out which number to call to report the theft?

I will remember this particular police station as one of the greatest places on earth — you can smoke inside, there’s an ashtray on every table, smoke hangs in the air, and the coppers will readily offer you a light. “This isn’t the United States!” — the detective told me, taking a long drag as I wrote my statement. Paradise.

A sign was put up in the hotel lift on the eve of my departure: “Dear guests! Since we’ve had some issues with the hot water, we would like to offer you a complimentary glass of wine or pint of beer. Your gift certificate can be found in your room”. There really was a booze voucher in my room. In the morning, before the alarm on my Nokia went off, a chambermaid came in without knocking or saying anything. She began moving things around on the table. Still half-asleep, I responded by saying: Please fuck off! She left, unperturbed. It transpired that the voucher had disappeared. I still can’t figure out what actually happened.

In actual fact I hadn’t had any issues with the hot water in my room. The only place hot water is hard to come by is in the Main itself.

On one of the evenings I had the unforgettable pleasure of sampling some European contemporary art. A performance was given in a theatre set up in a former railway depot. The opening act involved this chick coming onstage and spinning her arms around for 20 minutes. In the second act two chicks and one dude came out and spun their arms around for 20 minutes. In the third and final act a one-legged dancer came onstage and spun his arms around for 20 minutes. The one- legged dancer left the sated, able- bodied audience deeply astounded. It reminded them that there are one- legged dancers out there who get on just fine.

Fire alarm call box.