Lesson #1: Be on time, and don't lose your ticket

Welcome to Germany!

After landing in Frakfurt and navigating through the throngs of Muslims waiting for arriving family members (Is there a Frankfurt in Pakistan somewhere?  Maybe I should have looked at my plane ticket a little more closely!), I grabbed my suitcase and reviewed the information I printed off of WikiTravel telling me what to do to catch the shuttle bus from the terminal I was in to the airport terminal that also housed the train station.

I loaded on and waited while the bus slowly filled.  It was pretty quiet at first with only a few people here and there, and I was only slightly nervous that I must be doing something wrong because it had been too easy to find and get on the shuttle.  I hadn't even had to ask anyone for help yet!  By the next moment though, there was a small mob of people trying to cram on.  There were many seats, but the isles were filled with luggage, making them unreachable.  This was shrugged of with muffled grumbles by most who were stuck outside in the chilly dampness, but not by one man.  He started arguing, trying to push his way on.  I quickly realized that I didn't speak as much German as I though I did, for I had no idea what he was saying, nor did I understand the responses my shuttle mates were throwing back at him.  I say throwing because their voices became louder, hand gestures more erratic.  An argument began.  He wanted on NOW.  Not in 10 or 15 minutes when the next bus would come.  Now.

"There are plenty of seats!  All of us could fit if you'd move in!"  "We can't move in!  Can't you see there is nowhere for us to go!"  "There is no reason for all of us to have to wait!  There is plenty of room on this bus!"  "Sir, it's not a big deal!  We'll just take the next one."  And on an on.  Because I chose a seat right behind the door, I have an all-access pass to what is happening, but it really gets interesting when the bus driver enters the picture.  It's one of those two compartment extended buses, he has tried to close the door but can't because the man is there, and he has to trek back two bus lengths worth to assess the problem fully.  And now he's pissed off.  He has a schedule.  This man is holding everyone else up.  Get on or get off, but he has to move.  So the instigator pushes his way on.  People are glaring that he got his way and saying things under their breaths.  So is he.  There is a lot of tension, and, as I have seen one too many crime dramas on the TV, I am half expecting someone to bust a cap in his smug Arsch. I'm glad that at least there is a plexi-glass sheet separating him from me, just in case a fight breaks out, which it doesn't.

Ticket please.

But I had two thoughts.  First of all, welcome to Germany.  Second?  The rumors are true about Germany.  Be punctual.  No, be more than punctual.  Be early.  Don't expect them to wait.  Don't slow them down.  I would later go on to learn that train tickets are always checked, sometimes more than once per trip by the same person, so always know where your ticket is.  Don't head to the bathroom when the ticket taker is in  your car or you will get a royal, public scolding (not me, but another tourist who I'm sure had no idea what he did wrong or what was being yelled at him) for trying to hobo your way across Germany.  In short, be on time or be prepared to wait and know it was your own fault.  And know where your ticket is. That is, unless you want the fury of a nation to take home with you!