The last days of summer are kind to the elegant old ladies of Munich – the gently fading hues of russet pink and tan, the climbing ivy covering cracks and wrinkles, frivolous cascading window boxes of roses and geraniums - all soften the facades of its gracious buildings.
Coming from the just erected city steel and glitz of Abu Dhabi, Munich is olde worlde charm, history and cosy good taste.
At every turn there is an outdoor café or beer garden, well dressed people (men more so than women I note) who stroll the plazas and boulevards often accompanied by their dogs who are welcome everywhere. The city is a cyclists dream, pedestrian friendly and public transport abounds with two systems of underground trains, buses and trams above.
The biggest public menace, as in Abu Dhabi, and all of Europe, are the smokers. Nowhere is off limits.
For my Boris it is gastronomic heaven. Having lived years in Germany, he is once again fluent in the language and filling out on Bavarian dishes of roast pork, chicken, veal knuckle, red cabbage, potato pancakes, sauerkraut and the local famous spicy white sausage. Strudels and sweet pretzels dusted with sugar are the size of dinner plates.
Food markets and stalls overflow with smallgoods especially the spicy meats, rich cheeses and heavy breads. Food portions are enormous and everything is very sweet. I assume people aren’t as fat as houses due to the vast amount of walking everyone enjoys. We too stroll along cobblestone streets and squares for hours, until we finally wave down a cyclo, a strapping young man pedalling a two seater pedicab. He rides like the wind, scooting us through the outskirts and secret squares of the city chatting without becoming slightly breathless. We learn he is not yet 30, has his commercial pilot’s licence and is aiming to fly international jets. This is a way to make summer holiday cash as the famous Oktoberfest looms, a 16 day fair attended by millions who consume even more millions of litres of Bavarian beer during the celebrations. Already the shop windows are full of traditional Bavarian costumes the locals take great pride in wearing.
Meals shared at tables pushed close together outdoors are conducive to starting a conversation with your neighbour. Locals are friendly and everyone speaks English. How insular we Aussies are with so little exposure to sharing and learning foreign languages in our own backyard.
Museums, the churches, a nearby schloss (castle) or two and especially the parks and gardens are a great attraction.
Our favourite is the English Garden, a magnificent public park in the city centre of more than 900 acres (bigger than New York’s Central Park) of secluded parkland, open lawns and flower beds, monuments, a Japanese teahouse, a temple and a tower, an open air amphitheatre, a nudist sunbaking section, quiet backwaters of the manmade river which includes “The Wave” next to a bridge which is always crowded with an audience. It is an artificial wave created by a water pumping mechanism. Skilled surfers from around the world come to ride this wave in one spot for as long as they can. Double wetsuits are called for in cold weather when the river is glacial.
We are wined and dined by my German publisher, and make many new friends at cafes and over excellent coffee as emails are exchanged.
Despite the prevalence and appreciation of the variety of beers, served in great mugs and steins, from breakfast to bed, in beer gardens, cafes, and pubs, we never saw any one drunk.
Bavaria has small subsidised farms, specialist growers and food unique to its region which is all part of its tourism economy, and takes pride in its local identity and foods. Perhaps the Manning could do a bit more of the same.