Good grief. I'm just back from Dusseldorf.
The trip involved meeting and eating the world's largest schnitzel at a restaurant called 'Bender's Marie...' (officially, it's billed on the menu as "the world famous giant Bender's schnitzel, biggest in the world", it was bigger than my head), drinking more beer than I should have because I forgot to say no and generally losing my hotel.
Really, I lost my hotel. It's not very international jet-flyer of me, I know, but I was in a hurry when I left the hotel, got directions to the U-Bahn stop, bought a ticket and got on.
I didn't look at the name of the station, nor did I look at the number of the train.
I'm obviously some kind of half wit, but hey, no surprises.
My German colleague, sixteen beers (or so) and a giant schnitzel later walks me to the Heinrich Heine Allee station and waves me farewell. He leaves me in front of a screen offering 6 different lines going to twelve different destinations.
Yeah, danke schon for that one, mate.
What to do?
I get out my phone (the Germans call them 'Handys', how cute is that?) and phone the hotel.
The receptionist tells me that it is the U-79 and direction Duisberg.
She tells me the name of the station.
I ask her to tell me the name again and she obliges.
Too ashamed to ask a third time, I thank her and hang up. I don't want her to think I'm drunk - we'll save that surprise for when she sees me.
So I have no idea what the station is called, but from what the receptionist was saying it sounds like 'clitoris strasse'.
I can only imagine it will be very difficult to find.