
Frankfurt am Main. Photo (cc) flickr user doistrakh
Frankfurt, Dresden, Frankfurt, Mainz, Frankfurt. It seems I can’t move to another city in Germany without making a stop back in the first German town I ever called home. And now, as of Saturday, here I am calling it home again. Who’d have thought?
My husband certainly hadn’t. I’d always had a soft spot for the city—there were so many gritty, interesting little corners—and after all, Frankfurt ist ein Dorf (Frankfurt is a village). It may be one of Germany’s big cities and its banking capital, but it doesn’t feel like a big city. Particularly not after you’ve been in New York. But that is part of its beauty: it has a small-town feeling with a big-city’s perks. I’ve never understood why so many expat bloggers spend so much time railing on the place. It’s quite charming if you give it a chance, I say, though my husband is yet another who has never been able to see the place through my eyes.
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Expat Life: Hello, Frankfurt
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