Münchener Meanderings - Part 1

It's a funny thing, I realize have never written about Munich.

I have written about Tokyo Tofu and Dublin Diehards, but never ever about my Münchener Meanderings. Which is strange, because Munich, or München as the Germans call it, is where I go most often.

So, in remorse of having neglected Munich thus far, this, likely, will be an overdone post. I apologize in advance.

Well to start off, I don’t know whether I prefer United or Lufthansa on my way there. I have Premier Executive flight miles on United, so I automatically get an Economy Plus seat with four inches more legroom (oh! aren't I glad! Evil airline first packs the seats in like sardines and then expects you to be grateful for four inches! I mean, who would be? Ask any woman). With Lufthansa, even those four inches are missing, but the drinks are free. The drinks cost $5 on United! Life is so full of hard choices.

However, the flight attendants on Lufthansa are, you know, my type. I am glad for small mercies.

Speaking of flight attendants, let me tell you a funny story about a Lufthansa trip early this year: Had a colleague called Mark with me on that trip; very Caucasian; nice blond-brown beard and blue eyes: pure Bavaria outside, but decidedly America inside. Flight attendant lady comes along, eyes my black hair and brown skin, and goes:

“What would you like to drink?”
“Orangensaft”, go I.
She hands me an orange juice, bemused. Short work.

Then she leans over to Mark and asks:
“Was möchten Sie trinken?”
And Mark goes:
“Uh... oh… er… oranjuice?”

That’ll teach her to profile people next time.

Anyways, I digress. Reached Munich at 8:20AM. Took me another 40 minutes by train from the Flughafen (yeah, airport) to the Münchener Hauptbanhoff (Main station; Readers of WWII novels will doubtless recognize the prefix Haupt to mean head or main). For reasons of Munich being full because of Electronica, Europes’s largest Electronics trade show, one had been banished to the god-forsaken NH Deutscher Kaiser hotel just outside Münchener Hauptbanhoff.

A word about the Kaiser: don’t stay there.

The word for the lobby is depressing. Dark, with 1960’s vintage décor and furniture, and a very unhelpful receptionist who insisted that check-in time was 1500 hours (the Germans don’t like the impreciseness of two 3’o clocks in one day, no matter AM or PM).

Could she hazard a guess when a room might be available?
No.
Bitch!

So I left my luggage in her care, threatened to come back in two hours, and proceeded to roam a cold, drizzly, München. Luckily I had an overcoat, and a cap that kept out the rain, so on the whole, it wasn’t half bad.

I went to Marienplatz, which is the center of town, the oldest part of Munich, probably, and the most touristy place. But on a Sunday? Deserted. Europe has these laws that keep shops and establishments from being open Sunday, which makes for a very depressing latter half of the weekend in most European countries. Give me the convenience of the good old US of A anytime. However, long story short, roamed the train system some more, took a couple of pictures of the central station, ate a chicken sandwich on the Gleis (platform), and returned to the Kaiser to find that, wonder of wonders, I had a room!

I was tired. I slept.

So, the rest will have to wait for another post, when I awaken.

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