Miles today:123
Total miles: 680
Location: Frankfurt, Germany
Cost of tonight’s accommodation: £19.50
Number of potnoodles I thought I had in the carboot: 4
Number of potnoodles I actually had in the carboot: 0
Number of times I’ve been asked whether I’m “part of the conference”: 11
Number of hours I stayed and used the free wifi in reception after I’d actually checked out: 2½.

Woke up bright and early and just enjoyed a lie in. The marathon runners clanged about a bit but I thought I’d wait till they were gone to get ready in peace. Room had an en suite which was nice and clean. Any bacteria present were probably overcome by the smell of wintergreen and passed out so I didn’t have to bother with shower flipflops this morning. Was pretty late down for breakfast but THIS is what greated me:

Could have skriked. I usually like my proper continental breakfast of rustic rolls and ham and cheeses, with yoghurt and museli. I can understand Orange slices at a push – but lettuce and cucumber? Really??

Hung round for a bit in disbelief hoping someone would spot me looking troubled and offer me at least a weetabix but no such luck. Went back up to my room for a little sleep to try again later. Result! There was a school party in so all ham and cheese laid out, and choc chip muesli. Had a few bits of orange slices just to show there was no hard feelings and then smuggled out some breadrolls so I could have potnoodle barm for lunch.

Spent a good couple of hours sorting this site out and archiving everything from last year and refamiliarising myself with how it all works. I had a little seat by the bar next to reception so I could see all the comings and goings. I just love people watching. Now I said yesterday I had a few people ask me whether I was “part of the conference” and it happened again this morning, but more so. Was all a bit odd, until I started half heartedly reading a poster on the wall opposite. It’s the National Lesbian Parents conference. And it turns out that apart from me, the marathon runners and a Belgian stag doo all the rest of the guests staying are “Rainbow families” as their poster says. I just don’t know how I didn’t click sooner – I’d just assumed that there were lots of women who were on holiday with their female friends. Friends who they like to stand very close to in lifts. I had the porter ask me, a bloke in the lift, random women who I don’t know whether THEY were rainbow or not – everybody in fact apart from the hot barman. Pah!

Sorted out my blog and then sat in the car deciding where to go next. In Europe there isn’t any Sunday opening, so shopping streets tend to be ghost towns. Didn’t see the point of getting the subway back into town so thought I’d use my little car water boiler and the bread rolls I’d bought the night before and have myself a potnoodle barm (that’s “barmcake”, a northern bread roll, for all those of you who live south of Thelwall viaduct). Now this is something I’d been looking forward too since leaving London. 10 minutes later the water was boiling away merrily and I went to get one of 4pack Chicken and Mushrooms from the boot. But they weren’t there. I definitely packed them,convinced I did – so I can only assume they’re either on Cath and Janes drive (I didn’t get a phone call calling me a dozy #&%€ so I’m assuming not) or lying crushed and covered in tyre marks in lane 43 at Dover ferry port. Must have left them on the car roof when I was faffing in the boot while I was waiting to board on Friday. Pah! Had to make do with a mug of hot chocolate instead. Not like they even sell potnoodles abroad. Well I tell a lie, last year we found a shop in Sweden that does, but that’s a bit far. Even by my standards.

So I left Copenhagen and set off for Frankfurt. Now this was recommended to me a couple of years back by my lovely friend Paulene Dickson so I thought this year I should visit. Drive seemed to take forever – just loads and loads of roadworks. For this section of my journey I was accompanied by Chris O’Dowd reading Fantastic Mr Fox, and Sunday Love (free with a long ago Sunday Mirror).

I’d phoned in advance to book my hostel which turned out to be right on the River, just 10 minutes walk from the city, and right on the edge of Sachsenhausen which is the old town. Here’s the view from the window:

Booking on the last minute is always a risk. You can either get the worse bed that no-one else wants, and end up sharing with the barman and a tribe of drunk sweaty Swiss knobheads (that was last year!) or you can strike lucky and end up with a higher priced room they don’t usually let out to lone travellers. They’ll rather have one person in a 4 bed family room with en suite than no-one at all. So luckily I managed to get a 4 bedded room all to myself, meaning – BRING IT ON – I got a bottom bunk! There’s always a chance someone else could arrive even later – but it’s unusual. That’s how I ended up sharing with that Witch last year in Munster.

So had a little mooch into the city and it was still light enough long into the evening. All the websites that said nowhere is open on a Sunday were fibbing – all the touristy places were – just not the big chain shops. Bought a few little souvenirs, postcards and treated myself to a posh ice-cream and sat in the City Square and did some people watching. There’s a load of knitted scarves drapped round the fountain, and more lesbians too. I think it’s a National Gay Germans week or something. Don’t know if the knitting is related to the gay celebrations – there’s all little tags with messages on them tied to the scarves but it’s in foreign so I don’t know what they say. I just do not have any intention of striking up a conversation in pidgeon English by sidelling up to a local and asking “Hello, have the lesbians made all the scarves”. Quite possible using phrases like that I could get myself mixed up in some Soviet spying circle by accident.

So had a mooch and walked back along the river bank eating a cone of chips. After my noon potnoodle disappointment I really did fancy a proper steak and chips kind of meal, but Germany has got a thing about Snitzel, and it’s never clear on menus what kind it is. And hey, call me fussy, but I’m very particular about my snitzel. I have also learned from previous trips that May is Spargel season. Spargel sounds pretty exciting doesn’t it? Like a magic delicious spangley Roald Dahl-esque type food. Oh no, its asparagus. It’s huge and white and so unappitizing looking. Bleeuurghhhhh! Snitzel and spangle. No thanks. So I stuck with a cone of chips and a quick shake of a Heinz sauce I’ve never seen in Britain.

So finally, that’s the end of day 3.