After only a few hours of sleep, I set off for the train to Heathrow at the ungodly hour of 5am. True, my flight wasn't until 9, but I let my slight paranoia about missing it get the best of me. Luckily, everything went smoothly and I arrived at Heathrow, went through security and found my gate with about 3 hours to spare. At least it gave me some time to brush up on my German, finish reading my book and down a few cups of coffee.
I passed through customs without any trouble — not because of my ability to speak German (apparently customs officers speak pretty decent English) — and hopped the train toward central Munich. I had spent 7 years in middle school, high school and college studying the language, but nothing can prepare you for being fully immersed in it. Street signs, announcements, people sitting next to you on the train — you’re suddenly surrounded by this foreign language.Certainly, I had experienced a similar culture shock when going to Japan (hell, there they even have a different alphabet), but it's still a bit disconcerting at first. After finding and checking into my hostel, I ventured out into the heart of the city: Marienplatz and the surrounding area. For those who aren't familiar with Munich’s geography, Marienplatz is home to the old Rathaus (City Hall), an ornate glockenspiel, the Heiliggeistkirche (Church of the Holy Ghost), Peterskirche (St. Peter's Church) and Viktualienmarkt. Much to my surprise, it was quite chilly and even started to snow a bit. To help me warm up, I bought a chewy, soft pretzel — a specialty in Germany — and kept wandering through the open street shops of the Viktualienmarkt.
But soon, dusk started setting in, and my numb fingers urged me to head back to the hostel. After a quick shower, I looked around nearby for a place to eat. Even though I was an American tourist, I refused to act like one and settle for a burger at McDonalds. No, I wanted to go where the locals went and eat what the locals ate. Eventually, I found a small restaurant with Dönnerkebabs (venison sandwiches) and Pommes Fritas (French fries). Proudly ordering in the best German I could work out in my head, the balding man behind the counter punched my order into the computer and told me it would be a few minutes before it was ready. I quickly noticed knowing even a little German was quite helpful and made the locals keener on assisting me.By the time I made it back to my room, I was exhausted. A glance at my pocket watch revealed it was only about 10pm (an early bedtime by my standards), but I collapsed onto my bunk anyways and promptly passed out for the night.
I caught a relatively early breakfast at the hostel the next morning. I had plopped down in a plush leather chair by myself, and was just about to tuck in to my cornflakes, OJ and toast with Nutella when Jenna, an Austrian native visiting Munich for a job interview, asked if she could join me. We chatted for a bit in a bizarre combination of broken German and English, but it was nice to have some company. We both had plans for the day (work for her and sightseeing for me), but agreed to meet up later for dinner and drinks.
That morning I set off in search of the Bavarian Art Museum. After taking a slight detour (hey, German street signs are confusing, even if you can understand the language) to Thiersplatz, a small garden area with a few statues and several dozen pigeons, Maximilian Straße, a street named for famous German leader Maximilian I, and the St. Lukas Church, I finally made it to the museum. I'm not a huge art fan, but I meandered through the museum for nearly two and a half hours, completely mesmerized by the statues and paintings.I then braved the snowy weather again to see Odeonsplatz, the Theatiner Church and the Hofgarten, before catching an early afternoon train to Dachau. Though most would not put the former concentration camp on their list of places to visit, I thought it was important to see it and remember the history there. As you may suspect, the site's background gave it weighty impact on me and the other visitors, but what words fail to describe is the sheer power it has to affect all who go there. But much like my trip to Hiroshima, Japan, this was not a visit for enjoyment, but rather one for learning.
After catching the train back to Munich, I met up with Jenna, who took me to a local bar for dinner and drinks. Continuing in our mixed German/English, we talked about politics (she's a big fan of Obama) and the differences between America, England, Germany and Austria. One of the biggest differences I noted was the size of their beer steins. I know it's stereotypical, but the difference between a glass, a pint and a liter is huge — particularly to someone like me who isn’t really an avid beer drinker. It was great talking with her, but I did have to call it a relatively early night because I needed to get up at the crack of dawn the next day.
I wasn't leaving Munich just yet, not permanently anyways. I was off to Füssen, a small town tucked away in the mountains that still manages to attract dozens of tourists day after day. How, you ask? It's home to two magnificent castles: Höhschwangau and Neuschwanstein. Built by Ludwig I, the two castles are straight out of a storybook. It's even been said that Neuschwanstein Castle was inspiration for the Cinderella castle (and it's easy to see why). Other highlights of the day (besides the fresh mountain air and breathtaking views) included a horse-drawn carriage ride led by horses named Max and Moritz (characters from a German children's book) and a driver named Fritz, eating Schwarzwald Kirschtörte (Black Forest Cherry Cake) and getting complimented on my German after asking someone to take my picture.
My last day in Munich came far sooner than I wanted it to, so I decided to pack in as much as I could before I had to catch my train to Frankfurt. I started off the morning with a visit to the Frauenkirche, yet another church in Munich. Because of the strength of Germany's Christian population, it's not uncommon to see a church every few blocks (kind of like the number and frequency of Starbucks you see in the US). By the time noon rolled around, my stomach was grumbling. I still wasn't completely familiar with Munich, but I knew one place I could try for lunch: the Hofbräuhaus, one of Germany's most famous beer houses. I ordered a small stein of the house brew, which of course was still huge (the Germans don't mess around when it comes to their beer), Bratwurst, Sauerkraut and a pretzel with mustard — a truly German meal.At my mom's suggestion, I then headed toward Nyphenberg Palace. After a blustery, snowy walk along the river, I finally made it. Though the walk was cold, the view was well worth it. I also wandered past a small memorial building (the name of which I still don't know) that was quaint, but photographically interesting. I took several pictures, but then forced myself to head to the train station and finally bid Munich 'Aufwiedersehen.'
Hopefully that'll satisfy your appetite for now. I'm already working on my entry about Frankfurt and should have that up later tonight (assuming that I don't end up watching all the March Madness basketball games instead).
Bis Später (until later)!
Photos included in this entry (from top to bottom):
A view of Peterskirche on a sunny day in Marienplatz.
A peace statue near Marienplatz. People put different flowers in her arms each day.
The Rathaus Glockenspiel on Marienplatz.
A lion statue near Odeonsplatz and the Hofgarten.
Neuschwanstein Schlöß, which was inspiration for the Cinderella and other fairytale castles.
View of the mountains from the top of Neuschwanstein Castle.
Enjoying a beer at the Hofbräuhaus, a famous pub/restaurant in Munich.
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