Monday, April 12, 2010

From Munich, with Love

It’s our last night in Munich and for the past hour we’ve been packing, and I’ve been discarding. Living out of a backpack is easily the worst thing about travelling. Mum thinks she’s cracked the code to fitting as many things into a pack as possible, and the result is a funny parcel of clothing but it does work and my zips seem happier.

Since I’ve a book I really want to get to, I’m going to rush through the events of the last few days.

Friday: We arrive in Munich and 500 metres later, we’re out our hotel (memorable for its buffet breakfasts). Three-hour walking tour follows; midway through tour a cyclist stops to tell us our guide is telling us lies, which is plausible but less fun. Dinner we have at a traditional beer hall. Mum shows reluctance but we are served delicious goulash soup and she is won over (which bodes well for future dinners).

Saturday: We trek a very long way to Nymphenburg Palace and take a turn around the rooms (which involves much peering over guard rails, and Mum being yelled at in German for using the flash I forgot to turn off). In the afternoon we track down an uninspiring flee market and learn a lesson in trusting Internet sources. Visit English bookshop (one purchase) and the proprietor recommends a Thai restaurant around the corner for dinner, where we baffle the waitress with our request for two plates.

Sunday: Art museum day - I learn that Germans have funny tastes in paintings but excellent ideas about design. After pretzel and banana lunch on a wintry cold bench, we stroll through the botanic gardens, where the river there has a man-made wave and the mad German surfers, of which there are ten, take it in turns to surf this wave. I drag Mum to a guide-book recommended pub where we have Bavarian potato dumplings with smoked ham, onion and scrambled eggs.

Monday: hopping-say day.

We have no Internet at Konstanz, our next destination, where we’ll be until Friday if anyone is curious.

Love to you all; have almost vanquished cold so next post shall be more thrilling, I promise - in words if not deeds.

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