Imagine being in a foreign country. Now imagine being there with your parents. Now imagine being…read morethe only person of the three who can speak the local language. You've got a train to catch, and there's some confusion as to whether you're in the right place. You want to go looking for the information you need, but you don't really want to leave your parents alone on the platform. So you bring them with you. You ask a few people, who seem less than interested in assisting you.
Yes, it is odd for Americans to end up in Emmerich. It's not exactly the port of entry for many tourists. In fact, the only foreigners who regularly visit Emmerich are Dutch, and they're not there to see the sights; they're there to buy cheap gasoline.
Having been dropped off by my brother's girlfriend's parents at the nearest to their house German city that had a direct train to Hamburg, our final destination, I felt like I really needed to prove to my parents that all those ridiculous German classes were worth something. So I struggled through it. And asked. And persisted. And asked more. And basically wouldn't take no for an answer.
There's no real lesson in this. The train station is efficient, as are most German train stations, but it's also shabby. I won't say run down, but it could use some sprucing up.
But who am I kidding? European train stations are often microcosms of their cities, which take on the personalities of their inhabitants, so all I'll say is that Bahnhof Emmerich is cold, unusually so.