Second lesson learned in Munich:
Look at a map when you get out of the underground, so you don't spend an hour walking around in the dark in two wrong directions, looking for the place you're staying that night.
Its a unique experience in this modern age, to get dropped at a train station with an address in your hand and a list of how to get there. No cell phone, no GPS, no one driving over in their car to pick you up. Liz hates walking out of a train station when we're not completely oriented. I say we're doing our best without the luxuries we're accustomed to. It has a sort of charm, really.
The home we eventually made it to Sunday evening was Tyler and Rivets', two Americans that went to school together in Switzerland and are now working in Munich. Their flat was reminiscent of a ski lodge with its slanted ceilings, lofted sleeping area, and outdoor gear piled in the hallway. Plus it smelled like Christmas, and it had snowed.
On our first day, we made the brilliant decision to visit Munich's English Gardens, famous for being larger than Central Park and containing a man-made river (Eisbach) that people surf. The trees in the forested areas of the gardens had turned brilliant greens, yellows, and red, and the snow coated them in a sparkling white. It was so stunning, a winter-fall wonderland. We walked a length of the garden, about 2.6km, through Odeonsplatz, a historic square, and through to Marienplatz, the city center. This is where you can find the looming, gothic-style town hall, with dancing statues on every hour in one of the columns. We grabbed lunch at one of the crowded butchers on Viktualienmrkt, a large market with fresh food in the city center, and afterwards climbed to the top of St. Peter's clock tower. We have to do these things while we're young, because eating a bratwurst and then climbing like 400 stairs had some of the older tourists keeling over, though the panoramic view of Munich has gotta be worth it.
That night, we had dinner with Tyler and Rivet. Tyler was celebrating the Giants' victory, so our chicken lasagna was preceded with champagne (and the dinner wine, and some beers from a local brewery, we must admit. Maybe this is why our political discussion was so sloppy.) Liz and I are getting to the point of missing America foods, so it was nice to eat and commiserate with some expats. Who would have thought peanut butter would be so scarce.
After a draining day at Dachau (more on this soon) our hosts took us to a place of pure joy: Hofbräuhaus beer hall/biergarten. This is allegedly the most touristy of the biergartens, since people typically show up in dirndls and lederhosen to eat, drink, and dance. We still had a hearty Munich experience: people were gnawing on chicken legs, a traditional bavarian band was playing, we each had ein masse (a liter of house beer served in those giant mugs you never thought you would actually be served). The beer halls are massive and crowded. You have to fight your way to a spot at one of the long oak tables, and then fight for the attention of the waiter to order among the throng of diners. I can't imagine this place during Oktoberfest, Tyler said a waitress can make around 7,000 euros in tips over the course of it. Oh, and if you're sitting under a sign that bears the name of one of the hundreds-of-years-old drinking clubs (stammtisch), you could be kicked out of your seat at any time.
Liz and I decided to stay an extra day in Munich. We slept in and had a late breakfast before taking the U to Kunstareal, the museum quarter of the city. The one we decided on was the Brandhorst, a modern art museum boasting collections of works by artists like Andy Warhol, Cy Twombly, and Damien Hirsch. We walked through the university area, home to many cafes and book stores, on our way back.
Though you wouldn't know it by walking around Munich, it was Halloween, so we culminated our 31st with a Japanese horror movie. November 1st is the Bavarian holiday All Saint's Day, so a lot of Munich got that day off. Last lesson learned in Munich: it is actually illegal to dance the night before All Saint's Day. Clubs are shut down early on the 31st, and anyone caught dancing can be fined 10,000 euros.
Love!
Alexis
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