Despite the unseasonably cold and wet weather in Frankfurt, I did fit in some city riding on Day 2 of my adventure.
From my hostel on the banks of the river Main I was a block from a C19th footbridge called Eiserner Steg and able to cross directly to the Romer town square. The Steg, whose decorative iron railings are infested with colored engraved padlocks reading things like "Rolf heart Leisl", spans the Main and gives you a nice view of the big industrial barges and tourist river boats that plow the river below. The padlock valentines are a bit of an eyesore IMHO. They echo that bridge in Paris that's now so encrusted with metal love tokens, one day soon I think it must surely collapse into the Seine. Perhapsp ecologically minded lovers prefer it to carving their initials into a nearby tree trunk. Beats me.
The Main is lined on both banks with fan shaped cobblestone footpaths and bike paths planted with Linden trees. Right now, the trees are barely leafed out but in a month I can see what a nice promenade this will be.
The locals follow the rules here: walkers stay on the cobbles cyclists on the sandy bike paths. In the center of town, along Frankfurt's winding streets, and in the greenbelt of parklands that ring the downtown core, this segregation of bike/footpaths predominates, sometimes evrn more pronounced by the use of different colored cobbles, metal reflectors and painted bike symbols. If pedestrians stray into the wrong domain watch out! i I saw a large group of wheeled luggage hauling college students blocking the bike path, who were soundly being scolded by a semi crazed bell slamming cyclist. Obviously there is a rule that forbids dismounting and walking one's bike through the idiot throng. Nein nein, here it's war: DingdingdingDIngDINGDINGDINGDINGDING!!!! As an American cyclist, i might have chosen to yell "Hey move it, you [insert preferred expletive here]!" In Frankfurt passive aggression is the behavioral norm. The hysterical volume of the bell ringing scold says a lot about cultural difference and i know it works both ways. When I stopped for my asparagus soup lunch, I was trying to chain my bike to a lamp post as there weren't any "bike staples" around. I guess I was too indecisive for the harrumphing pedestrian who pushed past me while I was considering my security strategies.
In busy busy Bankfurt clueless foreign cyclists had better be on their toes.
From my hostel on the banks of the river Main I was a block from a C19th footbridge called Eiserner Steg and able to cross directly to the Romer town square. The Steg, whose decorative iron railings are infested with colored engraved padlocks reading things like "Rolf heart Leisl", spans the Main and gives you a nice view of the big industrial barges and tourist river boats that plow the river below. The padlock valentines are a bit of an eyesore IMHO. They echo that bridge in Paris that's now so encrusted with metal love tokens, one day soon I think it must surely collapse into the Seine. Perhapsp ecologically minded lovers prefer it to carving their initials into a nearby tree trunk. Beats me.
The Main is lined on both banks with fan shaped cobblestone footpaths and bike paths planted with Linden trees. Right now, the trees are barely leafed out but in a month I can see what a nice promenade this will be.
The locals follow the rules here: walkers stay on the cobbles cyclists on the sandy bike paths. In the center of town, along Frankfurt's winding streets, and in the greenbelt of parklands that ring the downtown core, this segregation of bike/footpaths predominates, sometimes evrn more pronounced by the use of different colored cobbles, metal reflectors and painted bike symbols. If pedestrians stray into the wrong domain watch out! i I saw a large group of wheeled luggage hauling college students blocking the bike path, who were soundly being scolded by a semi crazed bell slamming cyclist. Obviously there is a rule that forbids dismounting and walking one's bike through the idiot throng. Nein nein, here it's war: DingdingdingDIngDINGDINGDINGDINGDING!!!! As an American cyclist, i might have chosen to yell "Hey move it, you [insert preferred expletive here]!" In Frankfurt passive aggression is the behavioral norm. The hysterical volume of the bell ringing scold says a lot about cultural difference and i know it works both ways. When I stopped for my asparagus soup lunch, I was trying to chain my bike to a lamp post as there weren't any "bike staples" around. I guess I was too indecisive for the harrumphing pedestrian who pushed past me while I was considering my security strategies.
In busy busy Bankfurt clueless foreign cyclists had better be on their toes.
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