Friday was not a very productive day. I was well aware of the fact that an hour after I clocked off for the weekend I would be standing at Hauptbahnhof waiting for Hannah to arrive on her 5 1/2 hour train from Verona. Ten minutes later than expected, the presumably italian train rolled into the station (german trains are too ruthlessly efficient to run late). A quick bag drop off and we were back in town for a stroll and meal on what was an unusually mild Munich night.
Having balked at the prices of relatively standard looking restaurants in the posh district, we headed to Marienplatz and found JUST what we were looking for – an over-the-top, typically german eaterie. As we walked in and up the stairs we were greeted by the sounds of an Accordion and a hearty rendition of “Ein Prosit”. After we placed our orders (Wiener Schnitzel and Schweinehaxe) we were able to sit back and enjoy our surroundings. Songs were sung, dances were danced and beers were clinked – it was like being at Oktoberfest all over again! Well fed (and well tired!) we took the U-Bahn back to Michaelibad and collapsed into bed.
A lazy morning was had on Sunday before I showed Hannah the sights. Munich was on fine form this weekend, with the sun beaming down and the city buzzing with activity. Ander Art Festival was taking place in Odeonsplatz and we were able to sit in the sunshine, drink a Radler (beer and lemonade, Hannah’s still not convinced on beer) and listen to some live music from Sadie Walker, which two not-so-young ladies seemed to be loving, as they were throwing shapes that i’d never attempt even in my most drunk state!
Having decided on the Nymphenburg Zelt (the queue was the shortest) we stood and watched the bouncer hand-pick members of the queue who were allowed in. Obviously we were seething at first and thought the guy was a sexist pervert, but this was until we realised he was only letting people in who were wearing Lederhosen and Dirndls! A quick flash of my dashing outfit and we were in. We soaked up the atmosphere as much as we could before deciding we’d prefer a drink elsewhere and closer to home.
With over 2000 tonnes of sand, Beach 38 was something Hannah needed to experience. We sat and enjoyed the warmth for a while, wondering why such a exciting bar was so empty on a saturday night.
Sunday was a day of reckoning. An early rise was followed by a stress-filled few hours full of hope, dispair, and utter bewilderment. All our toil and trouble paid off though as we finally managed to guarantee ourselves 2 tickets to the biggest show of next year – Glastonbury!
Nothing else happened on Sunday.
Hannah’s train back to Verona was at 7:30am which meant an obscenely early wake up call. Not cool. We got to the train station with plenty of time and thought we’d be able to say a heartfelt goodbye. Unfortunately a stony-hearted station mistress had decided this wasn’t to be, nothing more than a quick hug and a kiss and Hannah was back on her way home.
A thoroughly enjoyable weekend all round and one which I hope can be repeated again when I travel to Verona at the start of November!