April 25th

Frankfurt airport


The car we rented

Driving down highway A5 in Germany. German soil is different that Canadian soil.


Typical German Autobahn

I feel like a knob talking German to Germans, almost like I am insulting them by butchering their language. So far there have only been two people that I have talked two:

1. The man at the Hertz counter where we rented our car.
2. The man who ran the coffee shop in the Frankfurt airport, where I ordered the largest cup of coffee that I could. It was tiny.

It's disconcerting to learn that German radio talks about the O.C.

30 minutes into driving and my brother has to pee, sheesh, he's got a terrible road trip bladder.


Stopping for a pee and a cheese sandwich