MUNICH MUTTERINGS
He: Munich
She: Are you nuts?
He: It's a lovely place
She: Are you nuts?
He: Its beautiful. I am telling you
She: Are you nuts?
He: We are going
She: Are you nuts?
He: You are totally nuts
He: You are totally nuts
Totally nuts cracked.
Munich didn't feature anywhere on my bucket list. Munich was, well Munich. It had nothing to do with me and in all probability, I wasn't going to do anything with it. Besides, I don't drink beer and Munich in my mind was a beer city. Until. A young medico in Washington dc decided to get married. The marriage called for our presence. He said Berlin on the way.
Why the Germany hang up, I said. The only time I had been to Germany was to a place called Mettlach on the River Saar and I have to admit that the castle we stayed the night in was wow indeed. But the next morning, we were late for an appointment (work trip) by less than 10 minutes and we not only got a frosty reception but a telling off. Initially we thought it was an act, but no sirree, it wasn't! Why Berlin? Lots of pork and old markets, he said. Hmm, I replied. Then, like the filmy dialogue, all the elements conspired against me. Berlin didn't have a direct flight to Washington dc. Munich did. Amen!
We did what all tourists do, headed for Marienplatz Square soon after landing there. Marienplatz, of course, is named after St Mary's and as if to reaffirm it, atop a huge column in the centre of the square is the gilded statue of Virgin Mary. It reminded me of another column, only that time perched on it was Svete Sofia in Bulgaria's capital city, also a golden lady but dressed in black robes, holding a black wreath, with a black owl resting on her left arm. Somehow it didn't appeal. The Munich statue was all gilded affair, standing on a gold crescent/arc cradling the holy infant in her left arm and a gigantic crown on her head. In Munich, the column was erected in 1638 to mark the end of Swedish invasion. The statue had been sculpted even before the column was even imagined (1590). Svete Sofia made her appearance in 2001. Imitation is not always a good thing is it?
For some reason, it was another statue that I seemed to be seeing all the time - that of Maximilian Von Bayern, the Bavarian Duke who ruled for half a century or so. There he was, in his patina-ed glory riding a horse, holding his right hand aloft. Then, there he was again, with his right profile. Then, there he was again, this time his back to us. Something didn't tally up. It wasn't the Duke, it was us. We were going around in circles. Or rather, we were being driven around by Munich Hop-On-Hop-Off and whichever route we settled for, Maximilian Von Bayern seemed to figure in it one way or the other. Like almost a family ritual, we tend to do a Hop-on-Hop-Off (whatever the discerning tourist might say) just to take an overview of the new city, so that later on we can have our pick. When it comes to the Munich ride, I wouldn't want to say much except, it was first a hoot and later a headache when the audio in one route had German and English versions vying at one go to educate you about the city!
Viktualienmarkt was the saviour. Markets and I have an old uninterrupted love affair going on. And the open air Viktualienmarkt (after victual or food in Latin and nothing to do with Victor or Victoria pronounced after a beer fest!) doesn't fail to charm. The oldest market in the city, founded by Maximilian, had its beginning as a farmer's market but eventually burgeoned into the sprawling market it is today, spread out over 5 acres and naturally, with a giant beer market (beer garten) at its heart. An immediate attraction is the highly decorated Maypole at its heart. There is everything related to food and more food and spirits, flowers and some pretty tempting handicrafts and more. The beer garden it was, and a giant pork knuckle. In Munich they really drink beer, really guzzle, guzzle. My puny little wine glass looked a tad timid.
One way or the other, the English Garden - Englishcher Garten- is the mother magnet in Munich. Everyone will tell you that is bigger than Central Park in New York and Hyde Park in London. It is, some 380 plus hectares. The official version is that there is around 150 hectares of woodland, 187 of meadows and 16 of water and over 100 bridges and footbridges and that, more than 5 millions visitors turn up every year. If that is not sufficient, there is also a section of waterway that has a corner for high level surfing.The decision to turn the hunting grounds on the River Isar, as per records was kick started by Elector Theodor in 1798. For the records, that the was the year when the American Constitution was adopted. In the close neighbourhood, the French, clearly having had enough of monarchy launched the French Revolution. And in India, it was the year of the third Anglo-Mysore war! And all the while the Bavarians of course, were working on recreational projects!
At the centre of the park is the Kleinhesseloher See, an artificial lake that blends in so beautifully that it would not be wrong to assume that the English Garden was built around it because of it. If there is a lake, a garden then a beer garden cannot be far away. It isn't. The Seehaus beer garden sits on the lake itself. And there at its centre is the Chinesischer Turm (Chinese Tower). There's a touch of oriental about it and it turns out the Pagoda like structure with five storey is exactly what its name implies. On that particular day a band, attired in traditional wear, sits on the second floor turning out lilting music for the hundreds thronging the beer and food stalls. I still can't myself to drink beer. There's another oriental angle, the tea house Japanisches Teehaus complete with a Japanese Master conducting the tea ceremony. Once again its not my cup of tea. Solace comes in the form of a big fat pork schnitzel and tons of fries. But why did they have to go and stall a life size pinkish pig figurine near what I presume was the farmers market section? That was mighty discomforting.
Curiosity can be morbid too. When we head for the Olympic Stadium and Park, Black September, the book and the movie runs through my head again. Not a good thing, not a good thing I tell myself. The world has moved on and so must you. I finally did, phew! The over 50 metres high Olympic Tower is visible much much before you reach the park. Just by the way, the BMW headquarters, shaped like a four cylinder engine, is literally next door. The tent like structure of the Stadium, particularly when viewed from the heights is quite fascinating especially when you consider the fact that construction begun in the late 1960s. The Olympic area is a sport lovers paradise. Sports is clearly an intrinsic part of the German way of life, age no bar. Interestingly, the ups and downs of the stadium and park area is supposed to be patterned after the peaks and valleys of the Alps. In fact, it is a picture postcard scene: the Stadium, the Olympiasee and the Park (added after the 1972 Summer Olympic) adding up to a stunning visual delight. What delighted me most was seen a path named after Roop Singh Bais, the legendary hockey player, a member of the Indian team that bagged the 1932 and 1936 Olympic golds. And no, I couldn't make myself see the Black September memorium. And after that? One more beer garden!
Every evening, the husband would try to see that we were at Marienplatz. He wanted me to see the Rathaus- Glockenspiel at the New Town Hall tell the story of the marriage of Duke Wilhelm V to Renata of Lorraine. Apparently, the big tourist attraction happens twice in a day, morning and evening. We never seemed to be getting our timing right and every time we ended up binging on sinful treats with out coffee. But like they say all good things come to those who are patient. It did. There are two parts to the Glockenspiel. First the top relates the story of the marriage with the life sized figures slowly moving in a circle. Apparently there is much jousting between the Bavarian knights and those from Lorraine with the former naturally emerging victorious. Honestly, with the Glockenspiel pretty high up there and necks craning, I couldn't figure it out. The lower part is about those called coopers, loyal to the Duke, dancing on the streets after the 1517 plague to bring about cheer. I wouldn't want to rate the entertaining factor. But I certainly loved the patience and enthusiasm of the crowd.
Once the Glockenspiel was over, it was sweet indulgence again!
Why the Germany hang up, I said. The only time I had been to Germany was to a place called Mettlach on the River Saar and I have to admit that the castle we stayed the night in was wow indeed. But the next morning, we were late for an appointment (work trip) by less than 10 minutes and we not only got a frosty reception but a telling off. Initially we thought it was an act, but no sirree, it wasn't! Why Berlin? Lots of pork and old markets, he said. Hmm, I replied. Then, like the filmy dialogue, all the elements conspired against me. Berlin didn't have a direct flight to Washington dc. Munich did. Amen!
We did what all tourists do, headed for Marienplatz Square soon after landing there. Marienplatz, of course, is named after St Mary's and as if to reaffirm it, atop a huge column in the centre of the square is the gilded statue of Virgin Mary. It reminded me of another column, only that time perched on it was Svete Sofia in Bulgaria's capital city, also a golden lady but dressed in black robes, holding a black wreath, with a black owl resting on her left arm. Somehow it didn't appeal. The Munich statue was all gilded affair, standing on a gold crescent/arc cradling the holy infant in her left arm and a gigantic crown on her head. In Munich, the column was erected in 1638 to mark the end of Swedish invasion. The statue had been sculpted even before the column was even imagined (1590). Svete Sofia made her appearance in 2001. Imitation is not always a good thing is it?
For some reason, it was another statue that I seemed to be seeing all the time - that of Maximilian Von Bayern, the Bavarian Duke who ruled for half a century or so. There he was, in his patina-ed glory riding a horse, holding his right hand aloft. Then, there he was again, with his right profile. Then, there he was again, this time his back to us. Something didn't tally up. It wasn't the Duke, it was us. We were going around in circles. Or rather, we were being driven around by Munich Hop-On-Hop-Off and whichever route we settled for, Maximilian Von Bayern seemed to figure in it one way or the other. Like almost a family ritual, we tend to do a Hop-on-Hop-Off (whatever the discerning tourist might say) just to take an overview of the new city, so that later on we can have our pick. When it comes to the Munich ride, I wouldn't want to say much except, it was first a hoot and later a headache when the audio in one route had German and English versions vying at one go to educate you about the city!
Before the end of the day, the husband comes up with a sneaky surprise. A little detour he says and I find myself walking into a E-Bike and Segway Tours office. I don't like it at all, I don't. Besides, who calls themselves Fat Tire Tours Munich?I mutter. The proprietor Wolfgang Schroen does. I didn't want to do any Segway stuff and I didn't want to like Wolf either, but unfortunately the unassuming, ever-smiling and genteel ways can be anybody's undoing. If that wasn't ammunition enough, there is the red-haired Irishman, Stephen who conducts the Segway tour and who can talk one out of everything and into everything. There is so something familiar about Stephen, that have-we-met-before feeling. Bang it hits; he was the garrulous guide we had seen in the morning in the Nymphenburg Palace grounds with an all woman tourist group, who seemed to be hanging on to his every word. All I can say is que sera sera, Remember the elements?
The Segway lessons come first. It will never ever fall, says Stephen. I try to convince myself that it means my chance of falling is minimal too. Till date we haven't had anyone fall off it, he assures us. Which I did later is another story. Before we know it we are off. After the few minutes of trepidation, the rhythm takes over. And its quite a liberating feeling too, stop where you want, take off when you want. Stephen keeps a running commentary going and quite informative too. Because its a small group, there is a personal touch and all the more enjoyable. We manage to see a Munich which we could not have done on our own. Sure the Segway doesn't fall but the person on it can go tumbling down. Everything had gone smooth as butter, till ....after admiring the Maximilian Foundation,built in 1852(our Sepoy Mutiny came in 1857!) to house gifted students to study at the Munich University without bothering about finance, we take the forested slope towards Isar River. Busy admiring the environ at one moment, the next moment the Segway hits a stone and hurtles towards the fence and stays stuck lopsided, while I fall flat. I am more embarrassed than hurt. The breathtaking beauty that waits below is thankfully ample compensation for the ego bruise. As is the break at Viktualienmarkt where Stephen takes us to his favourite place for everything meat. It is the juiciest, fattest chunk of pork I pick.
I had got my quota of eye delight sometime earlier, climbing up the
299 steps up to the observation deck of the oldest parish church(11th century) in the city, The Kirche Saint Peter (Church of St Peter) or Alter Peter of Old Peter, the affectionate term used by the locals. It's a narrow steep climb but the sweeping view leaves one breathless literally (and physically).
Once the Glockenspiel was over, it was sweet indulgence again!
