"Enjoy when you can, and endure when you must."
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Well my German odyssey has come to a close. Only an agonising long-haul flight between me and divine caffe lattes in my home town of Lismore in northern NSW. But before I depart I must give it one more shot. Arriving 3 hours early at Frankfurt airport - there was no way I was going to risk missing my flight and be stranded in the land of the macchiato latte - I pulled up my stool at the only alluring cafe at Frankfurt airport, the Goethe Bar. A cafe named after Frankfurt's prized literary genius and philosopher, who frequented the early coffee houses of Europe with other great thinkers of the Enlightenment, would have to turn out decent coffee and I was ready to give it one last try.
Surrounded by locals drinking large glasses of beer and consuming plates of bratwurst and sauerkraut at 9am, I happily placed my order. Having sworn never again to be lured by the macchiato latte, I went for the safer option - a cappuccino.
With dreams and images of luscious lattes swirling in front of me, I sat back and waited. Then it arrived. Slapped down on the counter by a jolly waitress, was a receptacle that looked like it had been dragged straight from Goethe's crockery cupboard. It was a cup with that time-worn look, dotted with a motif of Goethe's head and bust. This was sitting on an equally time-ravaged looking saucer complete with coffee slops. The coffee had that aerated look with a few meagre sprinklings of chocolate dust on top. I immediately reached into my bag for camera and pen to record this vision from Goethe's kitchen and by the time I resurfaced a miracle had occured. Half of my cappuccino had disappeared. The milk had been so aerated that it had literally evaporated and left me with half a cup of thin watery espresso. Let's hope the coffee was better in Goethe's day. So there my trip ended with me, Goethe and the mystery of the vanishing cappuccino!