A chronicle of movement aimed at synchronizing thoughts and keyboards with said movement.


Munich in the light-time

We peeled ourselves off of our beds at noon and set a going-out deadline for 1 p.m. This made the plotline for the rest of the day to Find Water, Especially the Bottled Type.

Somehow, by 5 p.m., that remained the quest. All through the town, very few convenience stores exist. But the Munich streets move in such a way as to draw you forward, like 2-for-1 specials at pubs, meandering through the town in an really intuitive way. Like the pavement winds alongside the mind.
So we walked. For hours, past the landmarks that I'd studied in all those years of German class, dashing through a list like a story we had to read in German one time...
An old German man was on the North side of the city and needed to get to the Southeast side for ein grosses Fussballspiel (big soccer game!), but so did everyone else in the city. Being a clever and aged Teuton, he took advantage of both assets. He called the ambulance, grabbing his chest when it came and pretending to have a heart attack. The traffic parted as he zipped through the city. The ambulance eventually stopped near the stadium, where the man threw open the doors and ran out, ticket in hand.

Thus inspired, we hurried onward.

Walking to Marienplatz, the center of the historic district in Munich (WWII saw the real historic buildings reduced to ashes, so a lot of stuff has been reconstructed...it's all really gorgeous and welcoming).
Another weird but cool thing: Even though most of the stores had the doors closed on Sunday (Germany's still a pretty religious country), families still walked down the streets, especially Kaufenstrasse (literally 'buying street,' the main shopping street), just moseying on and peering into windows, admiring their good fortune at being alive in a wonderful part of the world.

The little stone boy is being spat on by the large stone head. FOREVER.

Musicians make Kaufenstrasse even better.

And so do manequins dressed as various foods and other things, in preparation for Karnival, the weekend-long fest before Ash Wednesday.

Frauenkirche, behind the statue of Our Lady. Apparently no buildings in Munich can rise higher than the double-domed Church of Our Lady.

Inside the Church.

Painted lions were everywhere. No idea why. This one was especially shameful.

Oh man the Glockenspiel! The wooden kiddies don't come out as much in the wintertime. Booooo

As we walked on, Nils felt that we needed a sword.

And also that it would be a good idea to slide on ice. My shoes had rubber cleatlike stuff on the bottom, so they worked as effective brakes.

In Viktualenmarket, one of the main beer gardens in all of the city. But, alas, only in the summertime.

Nils' beard only grew as the week grew too.

Some of the streets in Munich seem to be suited only for parades. Not convenience stores, mind you. But they have big monuments and things at the end of them. Pretty impressive, these wide-shouldered streets.

Onward, go!

Residenzplatz, in front of Residenz, where the leaders used to live and eat half-chickens. A guy was doing his workout on rollerskates, ala Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. I've got videos!

We eventually crept back to our hostel in search of water and pizza, and received both from a place real close to it. Olympic-watching and naps ensued, before we took off for some Hofbrau (limited) indulgence and a nightcap at Augustinerhaus, a much quieter and more austere place, thus not quite as good. But it haaaaad...

APFELSTREUSEL! We visit another pastry upon our stomachs, in what became a rather unexpected yet delightful daily tradition.


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