Goethe Haus, schnell !

My flight from Montreal to Lyon took me through Frankfort way, way too early in the morning. There is no 7 AM on my clock; I even deny 7 AM the right to exist in my life. 7AM, nein ! Nevertheless, here I am, at 7 AM, with a gap of two hours between flights to pack with new experiences. The last time this happened was in the summer, stopping by Amsterdam's Schipol airport for an equal amount of time: I has asked the information desk attendant there if visiting even some of the city would be possible, she gesticulated in a stern and surprisingly angry way that there was no way in airport hell that I could ever make it there and back on time for my flight. Luckily, the Frankfurt airport, while less grand, is far better organized, with efficient staff getting you in and out in no time.

I have two hours to go, 40 minutes to and from the downtown core, a bit less than an hour to visit Goethe Haus (see the Photo Blog here), and even less time to take some somewhat random pics of the downtown core and its eery light (see the Slideshow here.)

The Goethe House is particularly satisfying experience; one can see a grand upperclass house that is impeccably organized as a strong, sensible echo of the family's various social and internal roles. Especially fascinating (to me, and engrossingly boring to the visiting schoolchildren swarming through the place) were the writing desks and surfaces; there is something vivid and vibrant about sitting (dare I ? With all the forbidding signs and guards ?) at a famous author's desks, gazing around as he may have.

This is desk fetish at its finest.