deutschland

As some of our loved ones have noticed and, love you guys, helpfully pointed out, it’s as though our blog itself has been on holiday in the Mediterranean this summer.  Touché. What can we say?  July and August have been pretty busy for us (read: we’ve been horribly tied up at the beach…), as we traveled extensively through Greece and Turkey with family and friends who came from overseas to partake in our globetrotting adventures.  Lots of great stories to share, and we can’t wait to get to them all, but you know us by now – only in due order.  Shall we pick up where we left off?  It’s been an interesting summer…

From Bohemia, Aman and I made a haul to Bavaria – Munich, to be precise.  Why Germany?  Well, with all that’s going on in the global economy, we were curious to see how people were living in the Eurozone’s wealthiest nation.  More importantly, Aman was interested to see whether German beer lived up to its legendary reputation (no better place than Munich to put it to the test…).  And frankly, our Eurorail “select” passes only allowed us to travel between bordering European countries.  And, so, Germany was next on the agenda.

The five-hour express bus ride from Prague to Munich was a quiet one, as we cruised down a not-so-heavily trafficked, late-afternoon highway.  From the window of our double decker bus, we gazed out at the expanse of rolling green fields, dotted now and then with a thicket of trees or a small village nestled in the hills.  The landscape changed so little as we drove along, in fact, the only clues that we had crossed the Czech-German border were the signs on the highway, which at some point, started sounding less and less Czech, and more and more German.  While Aman and I debated how far into Germany we likely had traveled, the bus approached the limits of a big city and passed a high-rise corporate building bearing an oversized BMW logo.  Ah, we must be here…

When we arrived at the main station, it was past nightfall and raining steadily.  Given the hour and the dismal weather, we quickly opted for a quiet night in and made our way straight to the taxi queue.  Rather than a hotel, we were staying in a private apartment, which we found on www.airbnb.com.  Aman and I had used this website only once before – while staying in Santa Monica – but, for several reasons, we really liked it.  For starters, the cost of staying in a decent apartment seemed to be not much greater – and, in some cases, significantly less – than the cost of staying in a reasonable hotel.  Plus, staying in an apartment provides way more space and a much more authentic, less touristy feel for a place.  So we figured we’d give it another go.  It turned out to be a great choice – our Regerplatz apartment was pretty hip, super comfortable and conveniently located in a cute, quiet residential neighborhood two S-Bahn (subway) stops away from the city center.  Of course, we were elated that first night when our taxi driver dropped us off within a mere block of the address we had provided upon getting in the cab (given the language barrier and the fact that we were not heading toward a conspicuously marked hotel, you couldn’t ignore the opportunity for serious confusion…).  And, sans a helpful concierge and piles of local maps at our doorstep, it took some extra diligence to figure out how to get out and about the next morning.  But, never mind, all part of the fun of being in a new city.

We spent our first day in Munich checking out some of the city’s more popular sights, starting with Marienplatz, which has been the center of the city since the mid-12th century.  The Gothic architecture of the New City Hall (Neues Rathaus), which dominates the north side of Marienplatz, was beautiful, and the people in the square were, on another level, also quite interesting. 

The Glockenspiel of the New City Hall Tower coming to life...

… and stopping people in their tracks.

Wandering north from Marienplatz, we stopped briefly to eat at a pleasant German restaurant (Zum Franziskaner) where we feasted on the house specialty, the “wuerstenplatte,” – a platter featuring five varieties of sausage – soft pretzels with sweet mustard, and a round of draft beer.  Not our typical lunch by any means, but delicious! 

Afterwards, we continued our leisurely stroll north on Ludwigstrasse (one of the city’s four royal avenues) in search of the Englischer Garten, one of the world’s largest urban parks.  After all, it was a glorious summer day, and we couldn’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon than by relaxing at the park.  We entered from the south onto a sprawling green lawn that was bisected by a narrow stream.  People on picnic blankets sat on either side of the water.  Aman and I ambled this way and that, looking for the perfect spot, before settling in underneath the shade of a tree where we proceeded to soak it all in – it wasn’t too crowded, but there were plenty of groups of people strolling, riding horses, sunbathing, playing music together, having picnics, etc.  The only thing we were missing on such a splendid day, we thought, were a couple of good ole German beers….  Aman closed his eyes for a nap, and I grabbed the guidebook.  Lo and behold, I discovered that the Englischer Garten was home to several beer gardens, in fact, some of the largest in Munich.  How did we almost miss this??  Aman was quickly awake and we were on the move again.  It didn’t take us long to find the beer garden at the Chinesischer Turm (“Chinese Tower”), which was, by far, the biggest beer garden either of us had ever seen before.  As we approached, we heard some incredibly lively polka music coming from the wooden pagoda structure and could see that it was absolutely packed.  Brilliant!  So this is how Münchners enjoy a weekend afternoon at the park…

Note that I was drinking the “small” beers:

Note that the “small” beers were also the size of my head:

Our afternoon at the Englischer Garten was, hands down, our favorite day in Munich – beautiful weather, a laidback vibe, some tasty beer, as well as a great chat with some nice guys we met from Denmark. 

The other highlight of our Munich visit came two days later with a trip to the BMW Welt.  Cool place, totally worth the visit.  The only disappointment about our trip, however, was that we didn’t arrive at the Welt until the afternoon, when we really should have gone bright and early in the morning.  Had we done so, Aman and I would have had enough time to get involved in BMW On Demand, a featured activity that allows you to rent a BMW for the day.  Not only do you get to test-drive the fine German automobile of your choice, but that automobile also comes fully equipped with a pre-programmed GPS route that brings you on a 3-hour scenic drive along the Autobahn and through the picturesque Bavarian countryside.  Thanks Lonely Planet, we really could have used a heads up on that one…

So rather than taking a joyride on the Autobahn, we went back to the apartment to get organized and pack up.  Might as well be productive – our three days in Munich had gone fast, and we were leaving early the next morning for Berlin.  And, talk about being productive, I decided at the last minute that, before leaving we should really, really take advantage of the washing machine in our apartment… we hadn’t seen a Laundromat since California and who knew when we would get an opportunity like this again.  So what if every setting on the machine was listed in German?  I could do this.  I started by dragging the Mac into the kitchen where I carefully proceeded to Google translate every word on the front panel of the washing machine.  Silks?  Nein.  Whites?  Nein.  By process of elimination, I selected a setting that seemed okay, added some powdery white detergent in the tray, threw some of Aman’s clothes in the machine, and pressed the starten button.  But, nothing happened….  I pressed starten again.  Nichts.  What the…  I quickly grabbed the Mac to start retranslating the washing machine as Aman sauntered in to see how things were going.  Something’s wrong, I said, but I can’t figure out what.  Helpfully, Aman started toying with the knobs and pressing buttons.  I think you have to call Martin, I implored.  I just can’t understand why this thing won’t run, but it’s frustrating me to no end…  Aman picked up the phone as I again turned my attention between the machine and the Mac.  How can it be this difficult to use a German washing machine, I thought.  In the background, I could hear Aman’s end of the phone conversation with Martin:

Martin, it’s Aman, how’s it going man…. Yeah man, it’s great, so we’re just trying to do some laundry before we head out tomorrow morning, and we’re having some difficulty…. Yeah, yeah, we actually bought our own detergent [Aman double-checking detergent tray].  The problem is that when we hit the start button, nothing happens… Right… okay, yeah, I think we’ve got the setting right.  Yeah, we’ve done that…. [Aman readjusting knobs]  Yep, yep, we closed the door to the machine….

Now, had there been some reminder to close the door on the front of the machine, perhaps I would’ve translated it into English and thus remembered to double-check that I had in fact closed the door before declaring that the machine wasn’t working.  Alas, there was not.  And so, when Aman went to double-check it, the door swung right open. Shooting me a curious did-you-seriously-forget-to-close-the-door-to-the-washing-machine look, he shut the door firmly, and the machine came to life.  Uh, thanks Martin, you know, I think we figured out the problem…. Yep, yep, thanks man…  Seems it wasn’t so hard to do laundry in Germany, after all.

Aman and I woke up early the next day to find that it had turned unseasonably cold overnight.  Making our way out of the apartment, the morning air had a crisp autumn feel to it.  We made a stop at the bakery downstairs, where I quickly decided on something that looked like a cross between a bagel and a soft pretzel while Aman surveyed the contents of the glass showcase.  Pointing one-by-one, he asked the friendly shopkeeper (who naturally didn’t speak a lick of English) what was in each pastry.  Cheese, he inquired of one kind in particular.  “Meat cheese,” she responded.  Meat cheese, Aman repeated happily, I’ll take that one.  Minutes later, we dug in as we walked down the mossy tree-lined street with our bags in tow to the S-Bahn stop.  How is it, I asked.  It’s good, Aman replied, but I don’t think there’s any meat in this, I don’t know what that woman was talking about…  It took me a few seconds before I realized what had happened.  Maybe she meant “mit cheese,” I suggested, you know, maybe “mit” means “with” in German?  With a sheepish grin, in between bites, Aman admitted this might be a plausible explanation.  It’s okay, still good, he added with a laugh.

And so our adventures in Germany had begun…