How (Not) to Get to the PLAYMOBIL FunPark

We headed off this morning from our motel in downtown Nuremberg toward the PLAYMOBIL FunPark, following the public transit instructions helpfully printed in the tourist guide: take the U2 to Rothernburger Strasse and then then Bus 113 direct to the park.

We got to Rothernburger Strasse in just a few minutes; only problem was that there was no sign at all of a Bus 113. Wandered around looking for pointers, but didn’t find any. Finally spotted a map of the entire system that suggested a stop off the U3, so we headed there. Nothing there either, but we did find a helpful bus driver from another line who told us, in German, something about the 113 being out of service for mechanical reasons. He suggested that we go to Furth Hauptbahnhof and take the Bus 150 from there.

So off we went again. Got to Furth, found the stop for Bus 113, but the schedule seemed to suggest that it only went once a day. Stopped into the tourist information centre and found a very helpful woman who spent 20 minutes trying to find us a way there, eventually figuring that we could take a regional train to Zirndorf and then either walk or take a series of two connecting buses. So we waited 45 minutes and got on the train to Zirndorf and were there in 12 minutes. We decided to give up on buses and instead followed the helpfully-provided PLAYMOBIL-branded signposts that marked the 50 minute walk to the FunPark.

So while I thought we might get there at 10:00 a.m., we finally walked in around 1:00 p.m. But man were we happy to be there. The FunPark itself was true to its name: Maximum Fun. There was an endless sea of PLAYMOBIL to play with, everything from trains to submarines to sailing ships. There were lots of kids there, but enough to go around for everyone. The park was in its ‘winter break’, so the theme-park activities outside were shut down but this didn’t bother Oliver at all as he happily spent 4 hours in PLAYMOBIL heaven. We took a break halfway through to pop next door to the indoor playground where, to my surprise and proud delight, Olvier worked his way up into the heights of the climbing gym. He yelled down that he was nervous from time to time, but seemed genuienly impressed with his own moxie.

Next stop: Paris. Booking the 5:30 a.m. train is seeming more and more crazy as the night wears on, but at least I booked us First Class.