Germany is calling, and I must go. I think I've fallen a lot in love with this country, thanks largely in part to this last weekend in Munich. We got to the city by taking an overnight train from Metz. An overnight train, but in a compartment without couchettes/bunks. This means that sleeping conditions got pretty creative. (I tended to stick with right angles, either on my side with my back to one row of seats and my legs stretched across the aisle or on my back on the seats with my legs propped against the wall. Comfy!) It's all good, though, because our first order of business in Munich was a walking tour, allowing us to work out all our cramps. Despite being drizzly and dreary, the city was beautiful to walk through and felt just plain friendly overall. The tour had a small break around noon, and our guide directed the group to "Starbucks, the best coffee in the world" - but made sure we all knew to follow her in the opposite direction for some authentic German brats and beer from a butcher's shop. Mmmm. Tasty. And my kind of tour guide. Her name was Virginia-Not-Victoria and she was excellent. (If you find yourself in a city offering Sandeman's New Europe Free Walking Tours, take advantage of them. Their basic offered tour is free, so the guides work especially hard to make the tipping at the end worthwhile. Plus, the tour catered to a younger/aint-nobody-got-money-for-that audience. Perfect for us.)
After spending the morning seeing and learning about Munich, we took the afternoon to visit nearby Dachau, the longest operating concentration camp. Words cannot really express the atmosphere at Dachau. The air felt saturated with such sorrow, such cruelty, such frightening power. Barracks built to house 200 people housed 2,000 by the end of the war. A second, larger crematorium stood just yards away from the first, which proved too small for the camps needs by the end of the war. I walked through the roll call courtyard, through the intake rooms and disinfecting chambers, through the crematorium, even through the gas chamber. Indescribable. Harrowing.
Back in Munich that evening, we searched for a lively crowd to join and watch the Germany-Portugal soccer game. Unfortunately, our senses for lively crowds aren't very acute and we ended up with a host of subdued diners and Shirtless Guy. The biergarten happened to be on a square where a street festival was set up, so we found some liveliness with the band there, along with an ENTIRE COW roasting on a spit, whole fish grilled on giant skewers, and pretzels bigger than our faces. The band ended around the same time as the game - with a W for Deutschland! - so we got to join in some revelry on the streets as we made our way back to our hostel. Since I was the only member of our coalition to have experienced the beauty that is Auburn Gameday, I took it upon myself to be the ambassador, yelling "Ja! Deutschland!" to any and every group of people garbed in jerseys and flags. The streets were celebrating that night, y'all, and I was right there with them. The only problem with this was that apparently my German accent is pretty convincing to drunk fussball fans, so sometimes they'd keep exclaiming in German or asking me directions. Obviously the best reaction was another hearty, "Ja! Deutschland!" before walking away.
Day two of our Bavarian weekend was spent primarily in Fussen, at Neuschwanstein Castle. It was built by Mad King Ludwig and is supposed to be the basis for Cinderella's Castle. Neuschwan-sweet! We walked up the hill and around the grounds, taking pictures of the beautiful-though-grey day. Then we walked a little farther to an expansion bridge across two cliffs. On our way up to the bridge, we were asked to take a picture of a group. When asked where they were from, the answer was Texas. Everyone in my group whipped their heads around to me, and I relished in the chance to talk to some fellow Texans - especially since one of these ended up being the Dean of Students at Baylor University, my parents' Alma Mater. wut wut. The main fellow I talked with, though, was not the dean but I think his wife was a professor, and he happened to be retired and living in Athens, TX. Small world. On our way down the mountain, we found a nature trail and I put my Chacos to good use, splashing in creeks, dodging massive snails, and whatnot.
Coming back into Munich for the evening, we ate an early dinner at the Hofbrauhaus, meeting up with an exchange student from Tech actually living with a host family in Germany this summer. She took us around the city after dinner, and it was really neat to hear a pseudo-local's view of the city. Of course we stopped for ice cream - Spaghetti Eis. It's ice cream, that looks like spaghetti. And is delicious. We also walked by the part of the river where people surf in the middle of Munich. The best part of her tour, though, was that she took us to the University of Munich, where she goes to class and also where die Weisse Rose resistance movement took place. Now that was another unreal thing to see. I was in the back of the group and didn't hear her introduce the university, but I knew exactly what it was from recognizing the street where Hans and Sophie Scholl were arrested in the movie. Unbelievable. And after that it was time to catch another overnight train back to Metz (this time with couchettes, though) arriving a mere 2.5 hours before class. YOLO.
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