All Over Munichness

A day to kill in Munich/Munchen and no idea what to do with it. We could've gone to see the Neuschwanstein castle, but that's a full-day trip since it's on the Austrian border, so we opted to see more of Munich instead. We headed out of our hostel and went to the train station a block away to find out how to get around for the day.

After talking with the Euraide lady from Boston who spoke in typical, "efficient", east-coast style, we had a plan. Sort of. She hooked us up with an all-day all-public-transportation pass for 11 euro. The fare from the airport to downtown was 8 euro each, so we considered this a bargain. We locked our valuables in the train station lockers and set out on foot to see Munich.





Outside Munich's Central Station (Hauptbahnhof), we found a gateway into a beautiful, very large pedestrian plaza lined with shops of all sorts. One thing I enjoyed was the reminder of one of the things I remembered about Germany from when I was there when I was 11: naked mannequins everywhere. Seriously. Everywhere. I took a photo for evidence.

First item of business: buy some clothes to wear, so we aren't wearing the same nappy stuff we've been wearing for two days now, since our luggage is now resting comfortably in Frankfurt and is, as of yet, not in our possession. I did not have warm enough clothes, so I needed a sweater and jeans that did NOT have big holes in the knees to let in the below-freezing air. H&M, here we come! Far too much credit later, we're lookin' good and on our way to the town square (Marienplatz) just around the corner to see the giant glockenspiel in city hall play a little ditty. It was impressive, in a way, but it's so high up that even though you know it's huge, it still looks like a toy. But it was certainly something to see and do.





We walked around the area following cool buildings/churches and took a few pictures. We both wanted to learn the history of the buildings or at least know what they were, but we opted for just continuing to tour around and see what we could, stopping if anything caught our eye. The insides of some of the churches, like the big, yellow one, are beautifully ornate. Others, such as the huge, towering Our Lady church [frauenkirche]), are more simple inside.








We also stopped for some amazing and cheap snacks at this beautiful bakery in the metro station. I had a sandwich thing with cream cheese and onion and some other veggies and pine nuts. So good. I wish I knew how to duplicate it. I also wish we'd gone back there. I also bought a chocolate mousse cake that was amazing, but by the time I got around to eating it, it was flat. But that didn't stop me.


We decided to head back to the trains and take a trip out to Dachau. Dachau is not only a charming area northwest of Munich but also home to the first Nazi concentration camp. Apparently, Hitler began his campaign in Munich. I've always wanted to see a concentration camp firsthand. Walking through the gate was a somber experience. As I passed into the courtyard, seeing the bunkers on the left and the maintenance house on the right, and I imagined the scenes that had taken place in this very spot only 60-some years ago, I couldn't help but feel the impact of the horror, and tears welled in my eyes and didn't quite go away for several minutes. I can't imagine what it takes for such a situation to develop, but it's horrific to know that there are people alive today who, given the chance, would repeat that scene against whatever group they believe to be insidious or inferior, and the fragility of freedom and peace hit home. Particularly poignant, for me, was exiting through the back of what was the maintenance building into the courtyard between it and what was essentially the camp prison, where executions were carried out. I don't know how many people were coldly murdered in that spot in which I stood. I've seen documentaries regarding the holocaust, and I've read about its horrors. But there's nothing quite so real as standing in the place where it happened. The museum was very informative, detailing the rise and fall of the regime and the lives of those who were kept at the camp, including Jews, Jehovah's Witnesses, political opponents, homosexuals, priests, and others. By the end of the tour, I left imagining the bittersweet relief the prisoners must have felt as allied forces took control of the camp and held the nazi officers in the prisons they had so efficiently run. The story of the camp ended with hope and a bittersweet reminder of the potential, good and evil, of humanity.

After Dachau, we headed back into Munich to see the Nymphenberg Palace. We only had a map to get there, and the property on which it stands is immense, so we didn't know where the entrance was or where on the property the palace was located. We took a wrong turn and walked around the perimeter of a fair stretch of the wall-surrounded estate. When we got to the palace, we decided not to look for tours and opted, instead, to say hello to the swans and go find Mister B's before dinner.









Mister B's is one of Munich's well-known jazz clubs, according to a guidebook I bought, but more importantly to Greg, who is an elementary school teacher the kids have dubbed "Mister B", it bears Greg's name. On the way, we took a few wrong turns and passed some more very interesting buildings we know nothing about. But by golly, we were mastering the S-Bahn and U-Bahn and tram systems. We were so proud of our American touristy selves. And despite some bumps and not knowing the language and getting temporarily misplaced here and there, we both commented, throughout the day, how fun it was to just be lost and wandering in Munich. No point in being uptight about it!



We then rushed back to the town square to meet up with local Municher, Thomas, who was a foreign exchange student with Toffer's family in Pocatello several years ago and who I had met during his visit to Salt Lake a few months ago. He showed us a couple more sites, walked us through a part of Munich we had entirely missed (a very affluent, commercial area), and took us to one of his favorite traditional Bavarian restaurants. Unfortunately, Greg and I were worn out from a long day and not feeling especially adventurous, so we declined to order the cow lung, pork knuckles, or other bits and pieces of pig or cow which were offered. We each ordered a type of pork roast, and Thomas bought the knuckles and let us try some. It was actually a good meal, and I was a bit fascinated by the texture of this mushy, bread dumpling thing I had. New stuff. Fun. And I wished I spoke the language because the waitress seemed like a fun lady with a bit of sass. I wish I had understood her.



As we finished dinner, I called to check on the status of our luggage because I had missed an unknown phone call and figured it must've been the luggage people notifying me it was ready. But there was no answer. After waiting on hold for 8 minutes, then 6 minutes, I decided to stop spending $1/minute to find out about our luggage. We had wanted to take an overnight train to Milan at 8 pm, but it was now too late for that. Dang. Thomas informed us there was a workers' strike for Lufthansa. Who was striking? The people who move luggage. Beautiful. Thomas offered his place to stay, but we realized we could take a later train and just go pick up the luggage and take a late train. So he dropped us off at Central Station, we made reservations (for a 20-euro fee) for a train to Milan 3 hours later (PLENTY of time to get our luggage), and we took the 45-minute ride to the airport. We arrived at the end of the S1 train line, but we were not at the airport. Shoot. Turns out the S1 splits towards the end of its path. Oops. So we take it back 2 stops, wait 15 minutes for the next one going back the other way, and get on. "Well," Greg said, "good thing we didn't go shopping for chocolate first." We patted ourselves on the back for wisely putting our luggage run first. At the airport, we talked to Information, where we were directed to a lost and found office and redirected to Lufthansa's luggage tracing office, for which we had to go through security. Fortunately, it was quiet, so we got right through. They didn't know where our luggage was. After about 4 different "well it must be here then" goose-chases, we stood waiting for the guy to talk to someone and come back to get us. While we were waiting, a worn-out-looking worker trudged past us with two carts piled high with luggage. I did a double-take as I realized my bag was perched atop that pile. We followed the man, who refused to acknowledge our existence, and the other guy came back, and finally, we had our luggage. Now, just a 45-minute train ride back to the train station to catch our train to Milan, luggage in hand. Only one problem. Our train was scheduled to leave in 40 minutes. We ran to the S-train, caught it quickly, and arrived at Central Station...15 minutes late. No more trains to Milan until the morning.

This felt all too familiar. Once again, we were stranded in Munich, no place to stay. It was too late to call Thomas (11:20 pm), so we opted to stay at the Euro Youth Hostel. As we had done with so many other people at various counters and information desks over the past two days, we walked up to the counter and sheepishly said, "We're back!" No private rooms available this time. Just a 5-bed room (without bath--we used the shared bathrooms) for 15 euro each. But the guy offered the whole room to us for 50 euro total, so we took it. So much for not paying for lodging during this trip. But hey, we're making all kinds of memories here and learning a lot in the process, so why stress?!

We slept for 4 1/2 hours, up at 5:30 am, and caught a train at 6:25 am. We cruised past beautiful villages as the sun rose on their clock towers and hills. And now I'm on a train, worn out and poor, with my luggage, cruising peacefully along some body of water through the Bavarian/Swiss countryside, and grinning to myself at how entertaining this trip has been so far.