Rome to Turkey: Day Five: Saturday before Divine Mercy Sunday, Leaving Rome.

The taxi was arranged for 6:30 am but showed up at 7:30 am. The driver was delayed as he had other passengers to drop off at the airport earlier that morning. The convent always uses the same driver for their guests, but I was a bit surprised that I was being shuttled to the airport by a man in a business suit driving a brand new black Mercedes. It seemed a bit excessive for a tourist, but I guess the taxi business is doing well.

On the way out of the city we drove out along the Appian Way again. By the time we reached the highway, the driver was doing about 120 km/hr. The speed soon increased to about 130km after it suddenly dawned on me that I didn't recognize the scenery, and clarified with the driver that I wanted Ciampino airport, not Rome's main airport.

We arrived in good time, and I paid the diver and said "ciao," which I discovered later is only used when familiar with someone or among peers (apparently "buongiorno " would be much more appropriate.) Ciampino airport is much nicer than Hahn. The departure lounge had one coffee bar, where I bought a custard filled croissant, bottled water, and a lightly toasted panini that was filled with prosciutto and cheese. My airport breakfast, oddly enough, was actually better than some of the food I had in Rome. While waiting to board, I watched what looked like a promotional photo shoot for an airlines occurring with several overly beautiful men and women models.

The shuttle bus we took to the plane was packed, and some passengers had to wait for a second shuttle. By the time the bus stopped and the doors opened, mayhem ensued as everyone made a mad dash for the steps to the plane. Men, women, teens, parents, older folks; everyone apparently knew to run for the plane except me. And they didn't walk quickly, but ran, purses and clothes flying everywhere.

We all made it aboard and found seats, but the plane was fully booked again. After taking off, I could see rural Italy below, which was more green and colourful than I expected, with the Mediterranean sparkling in the distance. We also passed over the Alps as we headed back toward Germany.

I had noticed that during my stay in Rome, as well as in Germany, that many of the waiters and staff at coffee and lunch shops were adults. They ran the counters, worked the till, prepared food, swept, and cleaned. I had noticed this at the airports too, where there were very few teenagers working. It was an interesting cultural shift to experience. I'm not sure what the younger generation did for employment.

Upon arriving in Frankfurt airport, after a bus ride from Hahn, I decided to make a trip into the city to attend Mass. It was the eve of Divine Mercy Sunday and I would not have an opportunity to attend church tomorrow. I managed to figure out how to buy internet time on the public computers at the airport and found Mass times and locations. With a hand drawn map and help from a local who showed me how to purchase metro tickets, I was on my way by train to downtown Frankfurt.

It was surprisingly easy to find my way to St. Leonhard's. The church was built in the 15th century and is located close to Main River which runs through the town. The Mass was in English and and was said by a visiting priest. Afterward I walked down to the river to take a few photos before heading back to the metro station, where again I needed help, this time to locate which platform to wait at.

"All things will have an end in this vale of tears,
Tears will run dry and pain will cease.
Only one thing will remain -
Love for you O Lord."

- St. Faustina, "Divine Mercy in My Soul" (Diary, p.417)