Before I get to that little mess... check out our digs for the flight!
After whining about being stuck "alone" (Dad and Nelly were together, Me and Sister, then Brother was across the isle like a foot away), Brother lucked out and got 3-4 seats by himself! This flight was emptyyy - he even managed to steal us a few extra blankets from business class! SHWEET!
|Brother loves taking those attractive pics of his sisters|
check out all those empty seats!! Everyone seemed to sleep the entire flight, only waking up for those crappy airplane food that we pretend to hate but we really love... "pasta or beef" is my new favorite line.
So back to my dad's wiener...
Okay, in all honesty that actually happened. But probably not in the way that you’re thinking. We successfully survived the 7-plus-something hour flight from DC to Frankfurt, where we were halted by a five hour layover. Instead of sitting, reading, and relaxing like normal people, the Sister, Dad, and I decided to go in search of the perfect German sausage. Chaos ensued.
It's common knowledge that whenever you're in a new country, or even a new restaurant, you have to try out all the local specialties. Yes, even at 2 in the morning, your time. So, we started off splitting enormously gigantic German streusel! It was like a 10x bigger and more sugary than a donut... check out the size of these pastries. And they say American's have an issue with portion control... pshh
After spending an hour trying to find our way to the Croatian airlines... Sister, Dad, and I set off on a quest to find the quintessential German dish: sausage and sauerkraut! Along the way (during the first 45 minutes of our search) sister and I decided to get one of those gigantic pretzel monsters with deliciousss spicy mustard. Why is German mustard so good?! Btdubs (by the way) our German pretzel guy wanted to by in a picture... so here he is.
We ended up walking around the entire Frankfurt airport with no success in the sausage department, so Dad decided to do the unimaginable: we crossed the security line and continued our search. Long story short, we found our sausages. Boy, did we ever.
Dad decided that he wanted to bring back a sausage for Nelly (my stepmom), so he assembled a bratwurst, sauerkraut, and mustard mess and we tried to get back to the "other side." However, in order to do so, you need to go through the passport check line, clear customs, and then find your way back to the original terminal.... carrying a creepy looking sausage package.
We told Dad not to flaunt his sausage to all the airport security personnel, but for some reason, he decide to wave it around and tell our entire story. The guy checking our passport was really confused as to why we had our passport repeatedly stamped in such a short amount of time. Dad explained that we wanted a sausage. That we decided to cross security to get one. That we left our bags in a different terminal. That he needed to bring his wife some sausage.... the sirport security guy looked at us and in a thick German accent said, "I have no questions for you. I ate 3 of those sausages last night, I understand."
Who knew customs officials could be such foodies?!
Anyways, we were full. Ready for our next leg of the flight, which was spent in the dark, as all three of us (me, bro bro, and sistaa) were completely unconscious from take off to landing. Apparently we had to circle the airport for 55 extra minutes until the airport had a landing strip for us... Okay, I lied. I woke up once for about 2 minutes to eat a sandwich. I don't know why. Airplane food is like cocaine.
We got picked up at the airport by our cousins - Nelly's family - and headed to our amazing penthouse apartment!
Our only concern, however, was dinner. So Dad (the O.F. - "original foodie"), Sister, and I decided to head to the little closet of a grocery store to grab some cold cuts, cheese, and fresh bread for a light dinner.
We obviously plan on making another trip to town for some dessert later. Duh.
Welcome to Croatia!