Friday was spent near COL-CC exchanging information and ideas with the PASOs so it’s not very interesting for this blog. When 5:00 rolled around Björn and I were quite ready to make our way into München.
When we got to the Hostel, we were both pretty exhausted so decided a short nap was in order. As I looked around, I had the strangest feeling I had been here before. I didn’t think that was possible since the Hostel was on the outskirts of the city and I had stayed near the center. Then it hit me. The hostel was on the same street as the one James and I got lost on trying to get back to the hotel after Oktoberfest! Now I realized just how far in the wrong direction we had gone.
The hostel itself was quite typical. Young 20 something’s working the desk in black t-shirts, an attached bar open till god knows when and a lounge full of young (and young at heart) slightly greasy travelers meeting up with companions and chatting in at least 6 different languages. When I got to my room, I was happy to see my own shower and bed. It was quite nice with modern art and furnisher making for some much needed Zen time.I met Björn downstairs where he said we would be meeting one of his flat mates from school for dinner. I thought we would be heading into town but apparently one of the beast Beer Halls in München was right across the street from the Hostel. This place was dark and old and FULL of people. When we got in, we didn’t think we would be sitting, but a group of women offered their half of the table after they were finished. This beer hall served Agustiner Beer. Björn and I ordered a Weiss Bier, which immediately got us dirty looks from our inebriated table mates. Apparently when drinking Agustiner, one should only drink the Helles. Björn politely thanked them for the information and continued to drink his Weiss Bier, which was lucky for me because I really wanted to drink mine too. It was here that I had Jägerwurst. It was very tender meat in a mushroom sauce. The whole time we were there, you had to yell to be heard over the ruckus. There was less singing than at Oktoberfest, but I did not really see a difference in the drink consumption. Björn’s friend wasn’t very confident in her English so she would converse with Björn in German and then Björn would give a summary. However, if Björn would start the conversation in English, she would respond quite easily in the same language. We had a very good time teasing Björn about past girlfriends and forgotten memories of school.
Eventually, things started to quiet down as it got later and our inebriated older friends were replaced by inebriated younger gentlemen out for a Bachelor Party. There presence certainly livened the place up. They all had t-shirts on with his fiancé’s picture with the title “Ball and Chain” in German across the top. Björn and I had so much fun that we decided to join them at the next stop after his friend decided to call it a night. However, we immediately lost them because they weren’t waiting for anyone. We went to another, more modern bar for a drink but soon meandered back to the Hostel because Björn was catching an early flight to Houston.
Saturday:
During my trip I was really looking forward to Saturday because I planned on joining a bike tour of Neuschwanstein. This is the castle that Walt Disney modeled his Disney castle after and it literally screams fairytale. However, after a late Friday, I overslept and missed the train out there. So instead I made my way to the Modern Art Museum District to take in some quiet, dark culture. At the main museum they had a special exhibit on Max Beckmann and Chinese Photography. I am normally not one for modern art but Max Beckmann’s story is quite interesting how it needed to be smuggled out of Germany in the 40’s because it was no longer considered art. His paintings were mainly of theatre and the life surrounding it and his wife. He was very good about finding a new angle of perception and liked to show the working hands of a person. They were always up or holding something. He also had an interesting series of depicting revelation with its fanciful creatures.
After going through that exhibit I wandered through the rest of the standard rooms. They included a room just of large rocks positioned on the floor and one of a fair ground after the show was over. I then went into the Chinese Photography exhibit where I was expecting Chinese Prints in watercolor. Instead these were photographs of daily life in China. They were divided into Work, Relationships and Time. It included photos of mines and silk worm fields, barber shops and public urination. It was quite a different world to see.
After leaving the museum, I wandered through the central part of the city. It was incredibly crowded; more crowded than New York for Thanksgiving. I stopped by the Glockenspiel at 6:00 to see it chime, but nothing happened. They must have still been working on it. I was often stopped and asked for directions since I was alone and couldn’t possibly be a tourist alone. Sadly, I had to turn them down. I was relieved when the shops started to close and the crowd thinned. I hadn’t eaten all day and my stomach was starting to remind me. I made the hike back to my hostel and unfortunately my bed was calling more than my stomach. After a short read, I made my way back out to the lounge to see if anyone was interested in grabbing dinner. When I got down there, I heard loud yelling and saw 15 people in red white and blue cheering on the Rugby World Championships. I sat down to watch a bit; quite a crazy sport. I then decided dinner couldn’t wait until the end of the match so I went out.
After three nights of Bavarian food, I just couldn’t do it again even though it was my last chance to get it. I walked down a small side street looking into the windows. Most of them were bars with small gambling machines. It wasn’t the atmosphere I was looking for. Then I came across a little Italian place. The six tables were nearly full so I went in for a nice glass of wine and light dinner. I definitely got a few stares, but they were all kind. The waitress there was an Italian who was now living in Germany. She didn’t know much English so when I asked for something she would respond in both German and Italian as a sort of teacher. I asked for the “vino della casa” and she gave me a look and said I would like the vino from her home town better. This there was no difference in price, I accepted. It was sweet and dry and went well with my pasta and cheese. The cook often came out and sat down with the regulars and bussed tables. As it started to empty out I asked for my bill. I was going to make it an early night to make sure I could get to Neuschwanstein. I had been looking forward to it for so long, I was determined to make it.
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