Since stumbling across my German heritage some years back via a distant relative's research, I've been slightly conflicted: is my Bavarian blood a significant factor in my fascination with the National Socialists or am I just a naughty "war-boy"? Am I inflicted with procedural purism or am I just slightly anal? Did I buy a Hugo Boss suit for some ancestral jolt or did I just think it looked stylish? These and many other questions of great import were swirling around my mind as we contemplated our second trip back to the Fatherland, the first being in that period in which I was blithely unaware of any Germanic antecedents.
We'd decided without too much fanfare or planning to re-visit Germany as we had fond memories of the raw and edgy Kreuzberg in Berlin, where we spent an eye-opening week some years ago. We were battered by an increasing work schedule and were barely able to devote a day one weekend to brainstorming, planning and deciding where and what to do, but happily, all eventually worked out well. We figured out some rough ideas, went ahead and booked some flights, a four day train pass and gave the holiday scant attention until we were actually winging our way to Frankfurt!
The inter-city ICE train from Frankfurt to Munich deposited us at the Munchen Hauptbahnhof where it was a hop, skip and jump in the rain to our hotel. We trundled our tiny trolleys across the road and deposited our bags for a couple of hours while we stretched our legs and took in the local environs waiting for the room to be ready. Cass had picked brilliantly: the hotel was slick and modern, right on top of the station, and in walking distance to all the major attractions. Good start!
From there we settled into our usual European pre-Christmas routine. The arcades and malls were reminiscent of the 70s in Australia in terms of bustling crowds by day, and only swelled exponentially as the light faded and the temperatures dropped into the evening. Locals bustled home juggling gigantic branded cardboard shopping bags, gluwein was being quaffed at twinkling Christmas markets, beer halls rocked and bratwurst stands were stacked. It was delightful and exciting to be part of such human happiness en masse and we enjoyed our stints in the magical period before the celebrations wound down and then ceased altogether as the holiday festivities shifted to the private home.
We took in more than our share of fine art, visiting the Althe Pinakothek, the modern Pinakothek and the design Pinakothek over a few different days. We got a tip from a young local hipster about a gallery in the heart of town as we all huddled away from the rain on the verandah of a closed gallery. We eventually followed his directions, employed some phone GPS and found a jewellery box of wonders of Miro and Picasso and other tapestry design masterpieces in the middle of a glitzy shopping mall! The permanent collections at all these galleries were dripping with masters old and new. Some paintings we'd seen before and some examples of families of works in other parts. Many, in fact the vast majority, were new and fresh for us....what wondrous luck to spot early and later works by artists with whom we're very familiar as well as some iconic treasures from the greatest in their prime periods. As usual, wandering these vast caverns became a little enervating and we marveled at the many thousand steps we walked each day when we arrived back in the evening and checked the app!
In between these galleries we walked, explored, marveled and admired. Prior to this walking, though, we braved the touristy hop on/hop off bus for a tour of the city. Cass likes to do this to get her bearings and it's a great idea. We got some ideas where and what to visit in the next few days as well as other places we probably didn't need to visit. We did make a special visit to Olympic Park. As a ten year old I was enamoured with the Munich Olympics and the exploits of the impossibly young 15 year old Shane Gould as well as macho swimming superstar Mark Spitz. The terror attacks on the Israeli athletes also shook me awake politically at a tender age. It was incredible to see these facilities first hand, the stadium a little smaller than my ten year old imagination, but the swimming hall just as grand and "futuristic"!
A trip to Salzburg was undertaken and we employed our rail pass to reserve some seats and make our way just over the border into Austria for the day. The countryside was interesting and we were amazed as mile after mile of farmland flew by carpeted with solar panels and dotted by wind turbines. We've noticed this over the years in many parts of Europe: the frost was covering the panels in many of the deep dark valleys: if it's viable here, what's up Australia?!
The city's magic was not subdued by the dull weather, but it did restrict our progress a little. We resorted to the bus to make our way around the city and took in its various charms and curiosities. There were references and reminders of Mozart seemingly around every corner and the topography of the town with hills "alive" and castles gripping the outcrops added to its allure. My shoes managed to blow out, so I had saturated shoes and socks for the entire day, dampening my experiences a little! We visited gardens, cobblestone streets, places of interest and basically soaked up the Mozart/Sound of Music vibes before sharing a cubicle on the train ride back to Munich with a very amorous couple (nicknamed "lovey-dovey" by Cass)! Apparently, they'd got the news that Salzburg is the number one destination for 2020!
On Christmas Eve we discovered the Eisbach wave, walked to the edges of the city, saw a crappy movie in a magical cinema and got caught in the rain! Traditionally, nothing at all is open on Christmas Eve so we planned to visit the world famous Munich Eisbach wave, where swiftly flowing waters rush under a bridge, get forced into a narrow and shallow channel thus providing a ride-able wave for hardy surfers. Fully wet-suited and hooded, these intrepid heroes put on quite a show and kept the audience on the muddy banks thoroughly entertained for hours. Their boards were modified with tape to withstand the bashing against concrete walls and they had developed their own sluicing and fluid styles to deal with the vagaries of the continuous swell. It was wonderful entertainment!
We kept on walking and walking, eventually finding a cinema open, but showing only movies in German. The super helpful employee, however, pointed us even further afield to a little cinema showing English language versions. We watched "Last Christmas" which was abysmal, but we delighted in the tiny old-fashioned theatre, reminding us of the Regal back home. We needed to sprint through the rain for a few blocks at the end of the show and managed to catch the subway back to the warm sanctuary of the hotel.
Dachau Concentration Camp was open on Christmas Day, so, lacking any brighter options we decided to follow-up our trip to Auschwitz and Bergen Belsen some years ago and see if the German memorial was like the Polish ones. It was another quirky train and bus ride away from the city but we did it independently and we were glad we did. There are times when one needs to be introspective and contemplative and move at your own pace and this was one of them. The horrors were all too evident in the excellent museum housed in the original dormitories and bathrooms: it seems so important that as many people as possible experience these places and the authorities have done a great job in educating them.
On a similar note, we stumbled on the excellent "Documentation Center for the National Socialist Party" one day when stopped in the rain checking a map on the way home from some galleries. We wandered in and were educated over four floors of documentation and auto-biographical accounts of the rise, rule and fall of the Nazis. It was fascinating and illuminating and tragic. Munich was a hot-bed for the formation of the party and Hitler lived in the art quarter as a young man before returning to take over the party. Sobering.
Munich, for a city virtually re-built after being obliterated in 1945, was interesting and surprising. We found it to be quite intoxicating! Our next week in Frankfurt and surrounds loomed so we found our reserved seats on the ICE and jettisoned on up the steel road (more about that next week...)
here's the album.