In a time machine to Muenchen

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I'm sitting with my back facing the front of the train; we are whizzing along, passing meadows and canola fields. A few shopping bags sit at my feet. When the regional express is in fact going 'express', it feels as though I'm in a time machine. The windows here on the upper level slope inward; the colours and impressions blend together and I'm transported, well, literally.

I am, in a way, travelling in a time machine. Its been a while since I've been down south in Germany, yet things seem unchanged, nearly the same. All the oldies constantly tell us now everything has changed, nothing is the same. They lament, frown, throw their hands in the air before clapping them together in utter exasperation. Am I in italy already, I wonder? For an Australian, as we are ironically described as over here (in Australia, we are the germans), things haven't changed much. In fact, that is part of the german character; they don't like change much.

I'm used to watching a street scape evolve, grow, shrink; new shops, new signs, cafes that change their proprietors more than they change their underwear. Nothing really stays the same in Australia. But here, there is history in everything.

I gaze over the menu at the Hofbraeuhaus in Muenchen today, and as mum asks a question about the Weisswurst, I'm not surprised that the waiter has detailed knowledge about his product. Why? Because I reckon the menu has probably been the same since all time gone by. I'm sure the kid at the table next to us could come here in 30 years and still eat the same Bratwurst as he is scoffing down right now.

Its an odd thing; I think it makes it somewhat easier to keep your cool and remember your place. When I'm standing in front of the Ratshaus in Munich today, and Helga, mum's friend, says that this is the 'new' one, I look at her with questioning eyes. What is that supposed to mean? Well, yes, this Ratshaus, built in 1867, is the new one. The old one, over there, was built in 1470. Its something I have trouble grasping.

Its so easy to forget who has come before us and who will go after us. I get busy and caught up in getting things done. But then you come to a place like Munich, and you know that only something you put lots of time and patience and thought into, with your own two hands, will last, will stand the test of time.

But now, I must labour my own love; burnt almond icecream.

Xx

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