Three Black Spots

Ich bin ein Frankfurter

We had long been victims of the Teutonic stereotype- ‘You vill sit here’ ‘ You vill do this’.

Our first trip to Frankfurt many years ago had been to the Book Fair, a soul taxing, arch destroying experience appropriately known as the Buch Messe. At the end of five days of eating bratwurst, chugging beer at Sachsenhausen, and trying to find taxis in cold freezing rain, we were happy to leave.

At the airport, we paid an extortionate amount in excess baggage, and all the way to Bombay I mentally composed the nasty letter that I would send to the international media. It never got written. No ‘Send’ button to hit, in the days before email.

I was very stressed before our first flight on Lufthansa, after a gap for 13 years. We had been used to the French who cooed over Yoda, and gave him 5 star treatment. What if the Germans were uptight about animals on board? The rules allowed it, but did their attitude? Fulminations at 3 am, at 36,000 feet do not make for a good start to a trip.

Even before the plane took off, every flight attendant had come to our seat to play with Yoda, and to ask if they could bring him something. Each airplane has its own jungle telegraph, and news seems to travel at the speed of sound. Phew! At every hotel, every restaurant, every store, and even on the street in Germany, Yoda got the red carpet. As always we got some of the residue.

One day in Heidelberg, we were walking down the no-traffic High Street, and Yoda seemed a little thirsty. I walked into a bar, and asked to buy a bottle of water, and a paper cup. The waitperson looked at Yoda, and I said it was for him. She absolutely refused to take any money, and set the water down in a big bowl. Yoda attacked the water with great gusto. It is always so satisfying to see him eat or drink happily. It’s the same feeling I get watching our grandchildren go at their food. All’s well with the world, and all’s well with Germany. Love my dog, and I’ll love you forever.

Susi works in the First Class terminal at Frankfurt, and Yoda totally won her heart . She pulled out her camera phone and began to click away. Her friend at Duty Free posed with Yoda in her arms, and brought the buying to a standstill. She promised to send us the pictures, done up as a montage. She loves playing with Photoshop.

Months passed, and we had not heard from Susi. We kept a sharp eye out for her on future trips, and asked for her. A few weeks ago, we were once again in the Terminal, and she descended on us like a whirlwind. She had lost our address, but she had the montage in her locker. A few breathless seconds later, we had it in our hands. She was so excited when she heard about the Yoda book.

I love air travel, airport lounges, and the display screens with destinations. I am thrilled by the sense of connection with others, if only for 45 minutes. I enjoy feeling one-up when other flights are delayed, and ours is the only one ‘On Time’. I thrive on the free food and drink. I am a connoisseur of good toilets and warm fresh towels. I read the airline magazines from cover to cover, and I think SkyMall is the best catalog in the world. I splurge on duty free. I look out of the window, to see whatever we are flying over. I am an air travel junkie.

I love the Mercedes limo that ferries us to the Lufthansa plane. And I love the way that the staff lines up to say bye to Yoda. ‘ Bye’. ‘ Auf Widersehen’ ‘ Kleine schon’. I am ready to be the German ambassador to the rest of the world.