Meandering Munich

Excited for our upcoming adventures in Munich, we promptly left our hotel and Regensburg was soon behind us. After arriving in Munich, with much of the working population still laying nestled in their beds, (and outside of a depressingly large homeless population) it felt as if we had the entire city to ourselves. Countless shuttered shops and restaurants (along with a fully abandoned outdoor market) lead us to feel as if we were the sole survivors of a long past apocalypse.

As we traversed the seemingly abandoned city, we ventured into several lavishly decorated churches before heading to the ultimate Munich church, the Frauenkirche Cathedral. Standing as a true landmark of Munich, this cathedral acted as a beacon and we soon found ourselves standing underneath its two soaring towers.

Unbeknownst to us, it happened to be Palm Sunday and we were fortunate enough to witness the beginning of mass in the small opening courtyard. As we slowly adjusted to the thick, sweet smell of incense in the air, we could begin to make out flags from various nations whipping in the breeze while German prayers rang out from the crowd and surrounding loudspeakers.

As the crowd dissipated, we hurriedly rushed inside the cathedral. As we waited for our eyes to adjust to the new light, I happened to glance down at the marble floor to see a sunken footprint. Legend has it that an architect made a foul bargain with the devil for funds to build a new cathedral with the stipulation that the church would be a celebration of darkness, with no windows to let in any light. Once the church was finished, the architect led in the devil to witness the new creation. As the devil took another step forward, he glimpsed windows which were previously hidden by the towering columns and ended leaving a large, black footprint in his hasty exit. Ironically, this legend barely has a leg to stand on but makes for an interesting story. (Before anyone asks, it appears the devil wears about a size 10 shoe).

Once we had departed the famous cathedral, we were soon standing in the courtyard of the old town hall, the Marienplatz.

Immediately surrounding the plaza stood Munich’s historic Old Town Hall. Some short sight seeing and picture taking later, we were soon ready for lunch.

Though almost every lunch was spontaneous on our trip (and often skipped), this specific lunch had been carefully planned ahead of time. We were fortunate enough to be one of the first ones admitted into the much acclaimed beer hall Hofbrauhaus.

With this beer hall dating back to the 16th century, we were soon thrust into traditional German culture as plates of sausages and massive beer glasses were slammed onto our table.

It appears that the overall vibe quickly swept us under as we both proclaimed that the sausages, sauerkraut, and beer (Hofbräu Original) to be the best we had ever had.

Now with full stomachs (and several liters of beer in us), our adventuring began once more and we soon found ourselves standing on the steps of the infamous Feldherrnahalle. Commissioned in 1841 to honor the Bavarian military, this monument is the site of something far more sinister. In Adolf Hilter’s first attempt to seize power, he rallied his compatriots into a march that is now known as the Beer Hall Putsch. The march ended in disaster with 16 members being killed in the plaza directly in front of the Feldherrnahalle. With the evolution of WW2, this monument held great importance to the Nazi regime and was turned into a holy memorial for the 16 members who had died in the 1923 march. Due to this event, the monument held great significance to Hilter and the Nazi party and was guarded by armed SS soldiers day and night. The monument and surrounding area was the site of several rallies and parades and was so sacred that new SS recruits would pledge an oath of loyalty to Hitler and be inducted at this very site. Knowing this incredibly tragic past, it was slightly surreal standing on the very steps that was the site of such dire events.

As we were apparently not done with Munich’s dark past, we decided to head to a nondescript concrete building whose history had been much forgotten to the past. Though the building is now a music hall for local university students, its former purpose was much more ominous. With sounds of joyous music ringing out from the building, one would be hard pressed to guess that this was once the Fuhrer’s own personal office. Although any past traces of the Nazi regime and Hilter have been removed or destroyed, we both were too curious to not try and sneak inside. Following in after a music student, we were able to stand in the large lobby and were instantly overwhelmed with the amount of history that had taken place in this very structure. For example, going back 85 years ago, United Kingdom’s Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, walked through this very building in his attempt to discourage war with Hitler’s Germany in what is now called the Munich Agreement.

After our long day in Munich retracing the steps of history, we were now both physically drained and exhausted. We gingerly made our way back to the train station and began the stale wait for our train. As we stood waiting in the station, we were soon set upon by countless individuals (often children) pleading for money. After some reflection, we believe this sad sight might have been the unintentional outcome of Germany’s incredibly open immigration policy. Though we are aware of the homeless population in our own country (US), the overall amount of it in Germany (specifically Munich) was simply staggering. As our train slowly pulled up to our platform, we took a last glimpse at the station and were soon setting off towards the southern border, saying goodbye to Germany. Though we were not in Germany for very long, we enjoyed our time here and hope to be back in the future. While reviewing our photos and reminiscing about our past days in Germany on our winding train ride, our attention was soon stolen by the quickly changing landscape. The dark, German forests and small villages that we had come accustomed to seeing out the train window rapidly vanished and were replaced with towering mountains of stone and snow. Though we had both seen mountain ranges back home (the Rockies and Smokies respectively), these snow capped Alps were unlike anything we had ever witnessed. Our journey to our next stop of Colle Isarco was truly one of the best afternoons we had ever experienced. With never ending views of steep mountains and shimmering streams, we selfishly never wanted the train ride to end.

As the sun began its slow journey to the edge of the horizon, we were just arriving into the small, mountainous town of Colle Isarco, which would become our home for the night. The short walk to our hotel from the train station felt like a zig zag as we constantly swung our heads in all directions trying to fully take in the incredible surrounding landscape. After checking into our hotel (Gasthof Moar) and dropping off our bags, we quickly sprang into the empty streets to explore the city in the remaining dying light.

Even though we were exhausted from the endless walking earlier in the day, the crisp mountain air and stunning views spurred us forward. Seeing a small church steeple rise out of the surrounding cityscape, we trekked upwards till we were standing in the small cemetery that lay outside the church’s front doors.

As we began to catch our breaths from the rapid increase in elevation, we began to immerse ourselves with our surroundings in this small and silent town. As we glanced around to the towering snow capped mountains that encircled us and the village below, a true calm took us over.

An icy burst of mountain wind quickly snapped us back into reality and we began to explore the rest of the city with the remaining embers of light we had. We finished inspecting the church’s graveyard (with a memorial to soldiers that fell in both world wars) before slowly making our way through the remaining vacant streets.

As we perused through the rest of the city, we were constantly being reminded about its beauty at every turn. From small shimmering creeks to short glimpses of the frozen mountains beyond, you would be hard pressed not to find a picturesque spot in this entire town.

As the sun finally slipped behind the mountains and darkness crept into the valley, we made a short walk back to our little hotel and tucked into the pizzeria adjacent to the lobby. After finishing our authentic Italian pizzas, we made a slow crawl to the desolate hotel bar. Being served by a man who spoke little to no English, we began to drink tall local beers late into the night.

To see the previous day’s adventure, click here.

To move onwards with us along our journey, click here.