Boarding the First Train
My first rail expedition was everything. It had castles. Thomas Müller scoring a goal in the Allianz Arena. Bavarian beer served on the trains. Missed connections, near-missed connections, and flight delays. We got a little lost, and even more found.
Arriving at Munich airport, though, had not gone to plan. Our fifteen-hour journey from Phoenix through Chicago to Munich became a thirty-hour flight with a reroute through Frankfurt. After that my dad and I were more than ready to board our very first train.
Everyone said it would be easy “just follow the green “S” signs from the international terminal.”
Tourist Top Tip
The green square with an S inside is the symbol for the S-Bahn. From Munich airport, getting into the city almost always means taking the S-Bahn.
Yet, stepping off our flight in Munich, the signs weren’t where I expected. Because we’d already cleared passport control in Frankfurt, the flow wasn’t what the guides online had promised. We searched every direction, eyes scanning for green. Nothing.
I had our connection open in the DB Navigator app, ready to show if I needed help, and my ticket already toggled in the Eurail Rail Planner app. Even with that little bit of preparation, I still felt overwhelmed enough to stop at the first counter that looked quiet enough for a question.
Repeating the phrase I’d been practicing in my head, I asked:
“Umm… hallo, sprechen Sie Englisch, bitte?”
Traveler’s Tongues
Sprechen Sie Englisch, bitte? = “Do you speak English, please?”
The man behind the counter, looked gruff, larger, with a serious expression. I got the feeling ordering a pastry here would be serious business. After a nervously tested out my new phrase the man behind the counter grinned, spread his arms wide, and tapped his heart. “I love you,” he declared. He appreciated my effort…even if I did butcher his language. Maybe ordering pastries wouldn’t be intimidating here. He was boisterous, cheerful and in that moment, exactly the welcome I needed.
I showed him my phone. “Is it possible to make this connection? And where is the station?”
He studied my screen seriously. “If you follow me,” he said. Suddenly my dad and I were chasing him down the hall, around a corner, maybe two. And there it was the green “S” above an escalator.
“Thank you!” I called as we ran ahead. Our train was already waiting at the platform. I sprinted to the door. It stayed stubbornly shut.
“I think we missed it,” I gasped.
“That’s our train,” my dad said. “Open the door.”
“How?!” I could already feel the story of our first missed connection bubbling up.
And then I saw it. A button, small and round, with two tiny arrows pressing away from each other.
I pressed it. The door slid open with a whoosh, and we stumbled inside.
Exhausted after a flight more off-track than on, my dad and I felt a rush of exhilaration as the train lurched forward into a graceful slide.
It was real. We were here, in Germany, at the start of an expedition that would be everything.
Now the adventure really begins.
Tourist Top Tip
Sometimes you need to open the door yourself both when boarding and disembarking. If the door doesn’t open automatically, look for the button (often marked with arrows). It may glow green or yellow, but either way, press it once the train has fully stopped and the door will slide open.
Watching the train pull away without me, all because I didn’t press a button. Now that would’ve been an adventure. Please tell me you have a story that never happened.