Freitag, 30. Juni 2017
Munich
durhamfamily, 17:15h
Hi, Everyone. I’m back from Munich, where, at my wife’s insistence, I crashed Cousin Liz & John’s anniversary vacation. I fought against the trip at first. If my cousin’s anniversary wasn’t reason enough to fight against it, there was also 3-week baby Max to consider and my mother-in-law who was also visiting at the same time. But in the end I caved—because of course it was going to be excellent.
I lucked out with the weather. While Cousin Liz & John got caught in 95 degree heat and in thunderstorms, Munich welcomed me with a mild 80 and sunshine. Cousin Liz booked Monday and Tuesday day-tours for us to Hitler’s Teahouse and to Salzburg, so all I had to do was sit back and let myself be entertained. It’s significantly more relaxing than assembling an agenda from scratch. Both tours weren’t Munich, sadly, but I’ll be returning for another round in September for Oktoberfest with Eric. Or…Septemberfest? Which reminds me: I need to practice up. My alcohol tolerance these days is quite low, and Eric would never let me live it down if I were to drink one Radler and then tap out.
Salzburg was a significantly better tour than Hitler’s Teahouse, in case you’re interested. Obviously, Salzburg is an entire city full of artists and shops and life, whereas the Teahouse is just a teahouse. But also, I found the bus ride to Hitler’s Teahouse wildly duller than the train to Salzburg. Though, perhaps I just like trains. However, Hitler’s Teahouse earns a point for its scenery. The view from up there is spectacular.
Among us in the tour groups were mostly Americans—like the kind who recline into your face and then get offended that they can feel your breath. There was also a talkative young man from Israel, and he told us all the story of how he once bought a wheel of cheese—impressed by its rock-bottom price—only to later find out that it was butter all along. Butter which he then sold door to door. Don’t buy butter from strangers.
Even though the 3 of us spent most of our time on tours outside of the city, we probably spent 5 hours or more each night exploring Munich. Cousin Liz & John were impressively energetic considering it was week 2 of their European vacation. In Munich we saw churches. I rubbed a fish statue for good luck. We visited the Marienplatz, where we witnessed a political protest monitored by 20 or more heavily armed police officers. We took the U4 to the English Garden—without incident—and watched surfers on the manmade river, Eisbach. We ate dinner downtown at the unfathomably crowded Augustiner Keller, with its 5000 person (!) capacity, and so now Cousin Liz can say that she’s eaten at an authentic, surreal German beer garden. And each morning we ate hurried breakfasts from the same vendor, who happened to have the best slogan: “Where it smells and tastes.”
I’m still exhausted from parenthood. This trip has highlighted that for me. In Salzburg, after doing some bad math, I argued with a lady about it for five minutes. But in my defense, she had become belligerent first, and I was the customer who had already given her more than enough money. (She was after specific coins of mine. It’s not as if I was trying to shortchange her.) Argumentative and brain-dead…My coworkers are going to love having me back in the office on Monday.
Now the 3 of us are back in my town of Schwäbisch Gmünd, the Oldest Staufer Town. I got to say goodbye to Carole, thankfully, and then early tomorrow Cousin Liz & John will start heading back home, as well. In the meantime, Elizabeth (and Max) and I are taking turns showing Cousin Liz & John around town—Heilig-Kreuz-Münster, Marktplatz, Stadtbibliothek, Naturatum—and making pit stops at the apartment to tend to laundry. They have done an impressive job sampling the local cuisine, trying even foods that they are guaranteed to dislike. Last night they survived the loony waitress at Kunst Genuss. (When John ordered Ravioli, her response was “No. Penne.” When Cousin Liz ordered still water—but received sparkling—our waitress argued and insisted that she gave us still water. I promise that these were not translation errors.) And tonight we might try Paulaner Wirtshaus followed by Eissalon Venezia. It looks like they’ll be opting out of Döner, unfortunately. More Döner for me.
By Monday my life will have returned to normal: No more working from home. No more eating at restaurants. No more reading or traveling. I’m sad to see this chapter end. It suits me better than a cubicle. I think Elizabeth has enjoyed it, too, having me around the apartment instead of whittling away my hours in the office. Well…I’ll just keep my fingers crossed that I don’t die before I retire.
I lucked out with the weather. While Cousin Liz & John got caught in 95 degree heat and in thunderstorms, Munich welcomed me with a mild 80 and sunshine. Cousin Liz booked Monday and Tuesday day-tours for us to Hitler’s Teahouse and to Salzburg, so all I had to do was sit back and let myself be entertained. It’s significantly more relaxing than assembling an agenda from scratch. Both tours weren’t Munich, sadly, but I’ll be returning for another round in September for Oktoberfest with Eric. Or…Septemberfest? Which reminds me: I need to practice up. My alcohol tolerance these days is quite low, and Eric would never let me live it down if I were to drink one Radler and then tap out.
Salzburg was a significantly better tour than Hitler’s Teahouse, in case you’re interested. Obviously, Salzburg is an entire city full of artists and shops and life, whereas the Teahouse is just a teahouse. But also, I found the bus ride to Hitler’s Teahouse wildly duller than the train to Salzburg. Though, perhaps I just like trains. However, Hitler’s Teahouse earns a point for its scenery. The view from up there is spectacular.
Among us in the tour groups were mostly Americans—like the kind who recline into your face and then get offended that they can feel your breath. There was also a talkative young man from Israel, and he told us all the story of how he once bought a wheel of cheese—impressed by its rock-bottom price—only to later find out that it was butter all along. Butter which he then sold door to door. Don’t buy butter from strangers.
Even though the 3 of us spent most of our time on tours outside of the city, we probably spent 5 hours or more each night exploring Munich. Cousin Liz & John were impressively energetic considering it was week 2 of their European vacation. In Munich we saw churches. I rubbed a fish statue for good luck. We visited the Marienplatz, where we witnessed a political protest monitored by 20 or more heavily armed police officers. We took the U4 to the English Garden—without incident—and watched surfers on the manmade river, Eisbach. We ate dinner downtown at the unfathomably crowded Augustiner Keller, with its 5000 person (!) capacity, and so now Cousin Liz can say that she’s eaten at an authentic, surreal German beer garden. And each morning we ate hurried breakfasts from the same vendor, who happened to have the best slogan: “Where it smells and tastes.”
I’m still exhausted from parenthood. This trip has highlighted that for me. In Salzburg, after doing some bad math, I argued with a lady about it for five minutes. But in my defense, she had become belligerent first, and I was the customer who had already given her more than enough money. (She was after specific coins of mine. It’s not as if I was trying to shortchange her.) Argumentative and brain-dead…My coworkers are going to love having me back in the office on Monday.
Now the 3 of us are back in my town of Schwäbisch Gmünd, the Oldest Staufer Town. I got to say goodbye to Carole, thankfully, and then early tomorrow Cousin Liz & John will start heading back home, as well. In the meantime, Elizabeth (and Max) and I are taking turns showing Cousin Liz & John around town—Heilig-Kreuz-Münster, Marktplatz, Stadtbibliothek, Naturatum—and making pit stops at the apartment to tend to laundry. They have done an impressive job sampling the local cuisine, trying even foods that they are guaranteed to dislike. Last night they survived the loony waitress at Kunst Genuss. (When John ordered Ravioli, her response was “No. Penne.” When Cousin Liz ordered still water—but received sparkling—our waitress argued and insisted that she gave us still water. I promise that these were not translation errors.) And tonight we might try Paulaner Wirtshaus followed by Eissalon Venezia. It looks like they’ll be opting out of Döner, unfortunately. More Döner for me.
By Monday my life will have returned to normal: No more working from home. No more eating at restaurants. No more reading or traveling. I’m sad to see this chapter end. It suits me better than a cubicle. I think Elizabeth has enjoyed it, too, having me around the apartment instead of whittling away my hours in the office. Well…I’ll just keep my fingers crossed that I don’t die before I retire.
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