Munich Sausage

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We awoke to disappointment yet again this morning as there were no croissants or pastries but on our way to the station we finally got our hands on some Belgian chocolate, which was delightful.
We got our tickets to Munich and had to make two changes at Brussels and Frankfurt, where we got on our first ICE train, which despite German notority for precision, got us into Munich a whole twenty three minutes late. All in all the days travelling would consume almost ten hours, the greatest entertainment during which came from when I made Clare try a Snickers that she said she wouldnt like but I thought she would and she almost threw up - we didnt arrive in Munich until 19:23.
Once we were settled in our fairly nice room in what was mostly a very shabby hotel, we headed straight for Pizza Hut which was just over the road. The pizza was rubbish but the waiter was a nice chap and had to shoo away tramps who came in to get slitherings of pizza from the diners. On our way back to the hotel we popped into I'l Gilatto Italiano to sample some of the most delightful ice cream - Tiramisu and Cookies, which were both tremendous, and only 1 Euro each.

Rested and showered, we awoke to the most horrendous weather. The rain had not relented all night so we decided that once we had found somewhere to purchase an umberella, we would head to the Alte Pinakothek Gallery, home to a huge variety of paintings spanning the 14th - 18th Century. In a place where the youth fare was 7 Euros each it had better be good, and I'm not sure it could possibly have been any better. It is the single most astonishing gallery I have been to and houses in excess of fifty Rubens, aswell as numerous Anthony Van Dyck, Rembrandt, Nicholas Poussin, Francois Boucher, Raphael, Pieter Brueghel and even one cheeky little Leonardo da Vinci piece.
The best thing about visiting this gallery is that I was entirely unaware it housed such an impressive collection. Paintings I have looked at and read about in books for years lined the walls in front of me and on occasion as I leaned in close to observe the brushwork, I was promptly told to get back by the guards who seemed to suspect EVERYONE - they scurried around with same shifty eyes and gammy legs of the Metro Centre security guards back home. The canvases all had a glass covering for one thing, and I was hardly gooing to attempt a dissmount in the midddle of the aftrenoon - "Oi Clare! Give me a hand with this will you?" - I hardly think so.

After the gallery we spotted a Subway where I struggled to order two 30cm Italian BMT's, then we headed back to the hotel, simply powerless in the heavy rain. It was late afternoon by the time it stopped pouring down so we headed back down towards Marienplatz, the main square next to the incredible gothic Rathaus Glockenspiel, which at certain points in the day rings its bells and plays its glockenspiel to the admiring hoards, that never fail to stop in their tracks and stand agasp as the rather tacky merry-go-round rotates high up in the main spire.

Day two in Munich was a lot better as the rain finally ceased and the sun shone for the first time since Belgium. We wasted no time in getting some breakfast from a small bakery in the train station (cheaper than at the hotel) and headed towards Marienplatz as a starting point from which to navigate the rest of the city.
We stumbled across two very flamboyant roller-bladers prancing around outside the Rauthaus Museum, and after sitting a while in the palace grounds we headed for the Augustiner Beer Hall, where we sat outside and ordered two large beers, goulash soup and Munich white sausages. The beer came in the biggest glass imaginable (like a glass bucket with a handle) and the white sausage turned out to be a combination of various bodily inards sheathed in an intestine and was presented to us in a bowl full of warm water - Clare liked it but I was not so sure. The bill was pretty heavy but was well woth it for the German experience.
Across the way had been a classical quartette and as they played I ran over and filmed them - they were absolutely amazing and belonged in a theatre rather than on the streets of Munich. As we got back to our hotel we heard a woman singing opera and we darted over to film a bit of that too. The woman was then accompanied by a man and they did a rendition of a song, the lyrics of which consisted entirely of the word 'Meow', sung in a variety of pitches and octaves. Impressive as it undoubtedly was, it paled in comparrison to the version Clare and I recorded in the confined safety of our hotel room - the footage of which shall immortalise the songs genius for all eternity.

We had checked out first thing in the morning and had nine hours to kill until our night train to Florence, and we didnt really know what to do with ourselves, so it was very lucky that we kept stumbling across hidden gems. Behind an enormous canvas attatched to scaffolding that covered the front of an entire building turned out to be St. Michaels Church, which was the most elaborately decorated church we have seen yet. As always, we were unsure if photos were prohibited but elected to take a few sneaky ones anyway. We sat a while in admiration of the architecture and craftsmanship before heading to McDonalds - the only thing we could afford after the Beer Hall.
As we sat at some chairs around a small fountain on the main street, we noticed a man fishing something out of the water with a long stick. As he retrieved what turned out to be a red plastic plate, that belonged to a group of children near by who were spinning plates on sticks, the mans son immediately frisbeed it back into the water. The man grabbed his son by the legs - I assumed he was going to pretend to dunk him head first into the water for being such a miscreant. How wrong I was. Instead, he proceeded to remove the boys trousers, stripping him to his underpants and casually plopped him into the fountain water. The boy was kicking and screaming but nobody batted an eyelid. I thought it a harsh punishment, and showed my concern by filming the whole event in its entireity.

One admirable thing about Munich is it's sense of community. This was a Sunday evening and the shops had been closed all day, and yet there were still hundreds of people out and about walking their dogs and playing with their children. There were inumerable musical performances and pranksters lining the streets providing great entertainment beside restaurants and beer halls crammed with jolly Bavarian folk, many of whom do actually wear laderhosen!
It can definitely be said of Munich that it is a very nice place, full of impressive buildings and activities, but which is actually enhanced by the people. So often at home it seems towns are let down by the people that inhabit them and the abandonment and apparent fear of the concept of community is absolute.

After the nine hours were up we hastened towards the station where our sleeper train awaited - as did a charming young woman from London who worked and lived in Pisa as a researcher (Clare's dream job). We spent the night listening to her recount tales of New Zealand as she showed us photos on her Mac, and then we slept.

With Love...Blake and Clare

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Comments

[Deanski]

Tres Bon
Mate your blog gets better and better, glad to hear you are both well. Were u wanting me to add this to our site? or would u like to tinker with it all when you get back? Stay safe and joyous. Much love...Dean

[john wiper]

sausage dog
enjoying your travel blogs, nicely written, very descriptive, jealous bout that beerski! think I will get meself a laderhosen! love to you both.