Trip to Frankfurt: Schoolboy Errors, Expensive Cabs and Flying into Cow Fields

Back in 2000, low‑cost airlines were still a fairly new concept and I was a pretty inexperienced traveller – my previous adventures limited to lads’ package holidays to Spain and Greece.

But in August 2000, warming up for my forthcoming round‑the‑world trip, I decided to book a cheap Ryanair flight to Frankfurt for a weekend with my mate Dave.

In preparation, I did a bit of “research” by reading a guidebook, which kindly informed me that Frankfurt airport was the second busiest in Europe after Heathrow.

Dave wasn’t overly impressed when I showed off this fact as we boarded our ridiculously early morning flight.

He was more interested in whether I’d read the nightlife section.

One thing I hadn’t checked was how long the flight was. Given all my previous European flights had ranged from 2.5 to 4 hours, I guessed this one would be similar. So as we took our seats, I offered Dave a sleeping pill – a packet I’d recently acquired from my GP to help with long train or bus rides on my upcoming big trip.

We both popped a pill and tried to get comfy.

Then the captain came over the PA system and informed us that today’s flying time would be… 40 minutes.

Forty minutes.

Oh dear.

Rather than try to sleep, we ordered a couple of beers to counteract the sleepiness. A flawless plan.

Welcome to Frankfurt… Sort Of

As we came into land, I was surprised to look out the window and see a patchwork of farmers’ fields as far as the eye could see — and no skyscrapers.

“Must be on the other side of the plane,” I thought.

We disembarked, now frothing at the mouth with bloodshot eyes, and all that was on the other side of the plane was a cow field and a tiny airport terminal.

A bit small, I thought, for Europe’s second‑largest airport.

I was sure the airports in Crete and Ibiza had been far bigger than this.

As we left the terminal, we asked a taxi driver how much to take us to the city. My guidebook had said it was just 5 euros for the short ride, and I was ready to avoid being ripped off.

So, it was much to our surprise when he said it would cost 200 euros and take two hours. Or we could take the bus for two hours for 10 euros each.

This was my wake‑up call to the world of Ryanair: cheap flights to cow fields, then spend a lifetime getting to the city you actually wanted to fly to.

The Pill‑Induced Zombie Phase

We opted for the bus and arrived at our cheap hotel in a semi‑conscious state, raising alarm bells with the manager who clearly thought he’d let a couple of drug addicts into his establishment.

We headed to the off‑licence, grabbed a pack of beer and decided to ride the wave.

Everything was a blur until we woke up with it dark outside, in a complete confused mess, unsure if we’d passed out all night or if it was still the same day.

It was about 9pm.

With only a few hours left, we headed out – but the night was a write‑off. We were way too tired to enjoy anything.

Frankfurt: A Mildly Dull Day Out

The next day we explored the city and found most of it pretty dull, geared up more for the business, city, high-flyers.

We did a boat trip on the river and wandered around a nice old part of the city with cobbled streets and cosy bars before flying home that evening.

This time with no pills and no booze.