Munich immediately gives one the impression of being big. The train station, is gigantic, and perhaps wasn�t the ideal meeting point though we found Andrea and Mark without much trouble. It was already about seven o�clock by this time, so we decided to go straight to the youth hostel and drop off our bags. This time we had managed to book a place in advance and so were saved the ordeal of having to trudge about with our luggage without having a particular destination. Unfortunately we weren�t staying in the city centre and had to take a bus or two, but we certainly weren�t paying much so we couldn�t complain. On the way back into town from the hostel we bumped into a bunch of American students who were swinging through Munich for the weekend, but hadn�t seemed to get the hang of the bus or train system. We helped them out since we were both on the way to that venerable Munich beer hall and tourist Mecca, the Hof Brau Haus. We all managed to get there, but once inside we never saw them again. I still have no real concept of how big the Hof Brau Haus it, it�s certainly too big to look across to the other side through the columns, low ceilings and throngs of people. From the corner where settled down it seemed quite small, but one could tell from the occasional roar of a far away table when the music shifted, that it was huge. The guide book later told us that it has multiple levels, and is split down the middle by a courtyard. Since we never saw the courtyard, I can only assume that we saw less than half of the first level. Brau Haus as you might guess means simply, Brew House, and they certainly aren�t short on brew. Beer comes in 1 litre (2 pint) glasses called simply but fittingly, Mass. We had a very Bavarian meal of white sausages and pretzels, all to the tunes of southern Germany, blared out by a lederhosen wearing brass band that plays live every night. We were having fun but actually didn�t stay all that long since they cleared the place out shortly after midnight. After having seen places in both Munich and Amsterdam close down before one o�clock in the morning, I started to realize how much I had been taking Cologne�s nightlife for granted. I have rarely outlasted any establishment in Cologne, and the subways run 24 hours a day on weekends. It was just as well that we left though, deciding to have, �just one more� beer is a rather large commitment in Munich and I was ready to go to bed.
The next morning, I needed to do the unthinkable, become a must see everything now tourist. I had tentatively agreed to visit my friend Lalith (link) in London after he had visited me in Cologne, and we had settled on this very weekend back in April because it coincided with the Queen�s Golden Jubilee, a double bank holiday that would give Lalith time enough off school to show me around. However, this meant that I had to catch a flight to London in the afternoon, and would only have the morning to see as much as I could see of Munich. Andrea and Mark had arrived in Munich early the day before and already done a bit of a walking tour through Munich�s downtown area, so they could point out a few of the must sees. We started from the market square with it�s incredible city hall and made our way to the Church of Our Lady with it�s towering �onion� domes. Inside the church, although not in my guidebook, is the impression of a foot in the concrete of the steps at the entrance. This is supposedly the foot print of the devil himself, stamped into the ground by the sheer force of delight he felt when he saw the inside of the Church. A series of columns rising up on either side of the main walkway to hold up the high ceiling are placed in such a way that their perspective forms a continuous line when viewed from the entrance. The effect is that the aisles and windows of the church are hidden. This was a radical architectural choice at the time. Apparently, one should always be able to see the windows of a church, and so this effect pleased the devil.
Munich was evidently a town of great wealth, there can be no other explanation for its urban layout. The streets arc and curve about in strange places, and turn at sharp angles to avoid some of the colossal buildings build by royal and wealthy families over the years. There�s certainly no grid system here, the streets follow the paths set for them by the buildings. We walked down one of the main concourses, passing by the royal palace on our way to the English gardens, a huge green area which has served as the training grounds for troops as well as an area for relaxing on a hot day. That unfortunately, was as far as I made it into the city though, by that the time we had wandered into the gardens, it was time to eat if I was to make my flight.
Lunch wasn�t boring though, at least it that it provided a few surprises. Michelle, Mark and Andrea all felt like having something on the light side and so opted for salad. I chose something that I had determined to be roasted potatoes and something local. The menus as you might have gathered were in German. Now, the other three had ordered Wurstsalat, which directly translated means sausage salad. That there was sausage in the salad was not a surprise, that there was precious little else save a generous helping of a clear oily liquid and some onions, was. There was no lettuce, it was a green free salad. Also, when you order a sausage salad, you don�t get little chopped up bits of a typical breakfast sausage, you bits of a large pate filled sausage which, when whole, forms a circle and is the size of a dinner plate. All this with pickles and onions in an oily sauce. There were some surprised looks around the table. I to this day have no idea what I ate, it was an unidentifiable dark mass with a relatively soft texture mixed in with my potatoes. Some say it was blood sausage without the sausage, I, about to board an aircraft, didn�t particularly feel like being ill and refused to discuss the contents of my lunch, although I actually quite enjoyed it in the end.
