Pia hat uns besucht

Weisswurst Früstück

Pia came and stayed for the weekend.  What a wonderful thing for her to do.  She had to fly to London to work in the London office and decided to finish her trip with us in München.  We were very excited to see her as she was our first international visitor.  She arrived Friday night and we caught the train out to the airport to meet her, having first prepared her room and made sure the fridge was well stocked with Chardonnay.

To welcome her to München we decided to treat her to a Weisswurst Früstück.  This is the quintessential Munich breakfast and consists of Weisswurst, Bretzeln all washed down with a big glass of Weissbier.  A great way to start the day.  We then decided to go for a walk.  The weather was fantastic for the days leading up to Pia's arrival and shit house for the time she was here, so instead of seeing München under clear blue skies she saw it under grey clouds with rain. None the less we did manage to enjoy a brief moment of sunshine in the Englisch Garten over some beers.  I was keen to show Pia München's primo break but unfortunately the surf wasn't up that day and she had make do with her imagination and my vivid descriptions of monster standing waves with wicked tubes.

Next stop was the Altstadt where we wandered around taking in the sights and sampling Kustenbraten in the Victualin Markt followed by coffee and cake in Dalmyr.  Dalmyr is like the Boatshed back home only more upmarket.  By the time the cake was settling we were all ready for home.  We had a brief respite from eating before heading out for an early dinner at an Italian restaurant around the corner from where we live.  The highlight of the meal was when our waiter, who had been surly to us all evening, emptied a whole bowl of mussels down the back of one of the diners pants.  We left the restaurant and caught the U-Bahn to Olympia Platz.  We had tickets to see Jamiraquoi and they were playing at the Olypiahalle.  We soon joined the throng of people making their way inside.  Once settled in our seats I went and bought a round of biers. That's right, this is Germany the country where you can get arrested for NOT drinking at public venues.   The cover band were playing original 80s music, if that makes sense.  They were called Penguin Prison and they sounded like a mix of Thompson Twins, Spandau Ballet and, dare I say it, Madonna.  Keep an eye out for them, they could be destined for mediocrity.

The Germans really dig their concerts.  When Jamiroquai started playing almost every one stood up and danced.  Grooving in front of their seats.  Which leads me to the next observation.

Picture a man, mid forties, a belly, slightly balding, wearing bifocals complete with string around his neck, his keys conveniently yet securely clipped to his faded denims via a quick release key holder.  He is alone in the crowd and he is, with out doubt, the biggest Jamiroquai fan in the universe.  On the outside he may look like an advertisement for contraception but when that funky rhythm starts to play he has no other choice but to stand up and shake his thing.  There is no stopping the unstoppable funk machine, except the need to occasionally disappear to the bar to refuel his dance engine.  And he is in the seat next to mine.  My view of the concert was interspersed with a flailing arm punching the air and the occasional shower of sweat.  It was only after the concert had finished did Annika reveal that there were spare seats next to her and that I could have given the funk machine the room he obviously craved.

The next morning had us breaking our fast at Cafe Schwabing.  [Breakfast is an interesting word.  It is more commonly a noun however it can be a verb and I believe it maybe the only trennbare verb in the English language (please correct me if I am wrong).  The German language has loads of trennbare verbs.  They were introduced in WW I to confuse the English.]  After a seemingly brief pause we went over to Melanie's flat for coffee and cake.  The Germans love their coffee and cake. Before too long we were making our farewells and heading out into the cold wet day to go to the Augustine Bier Haus for a typical Bayerisch Sunday meal.  The Augustine is a great venue.  The Hofbräuhaus maybe more famous in München but it is jam packed with Japanese and American tourists being fleeced while they mistakenly believe they are experiencing a traditional Bayerisch Pub.  The Augustine on the other hand is jam packed with Bayerns sitting at long wooden tables drinking fine bier and eating dead animals by the bucket load.  There was even an ompah band a few lederhosen to be seen.

That pretty much sums up Pia's gastronomic whirlwind tour of München.  It was really lovely to see her and I enjoyed hearing a familiar accent for a while.

Abendessen in dem Park

It was such as nice afternoon that we decided to take a bottle of wine, some cheese and sausage into the park and enjoy the last of the afternoon's sunshine.  I think we may have started a trend.  I could read the faces of the various people that we passed on the way to our bench.  We received many approving smiles and I feel that most were thinking that it was a truely good idea and wondering why they had not thought of it themselves.  A glorious afternoon sitting in the sun enjoying a glass of a fine Californian Zinfandel

Schloss Kufstein mit Freunden

The town of Kufstein viewed from the Schloss

Soledad is my class mate and she is from Argentina.  Her boyfriend, Christoph is Deutsch and they live just around the corner.  Today they invited us to come with them on a short trip to Schloss Kufstein.  They have a car.  Having friends with their own car is a good thing.  I had forgotten just how much freedom the common old auto-mobile can give a person.  München is a great city but sometimes it is really nice to head further a field.

Sole and Christoph picked us up at the leisurely time of 11am and we headed into the Alps.  Christoph took us the scenic route out of München, hampered by weekend traffic and some major road works.  However it wasn't too long before we were screaming down the E45 heading to Austria.  The E45 is road I have travelled many times now as it leads to Austria and Italy.

The day was schön.  Schön is the third most important word in the German vocabulary, coming third to genau and gerne.  I don't know what any of them mean but you can hold a whole conversation with any German national with just these three words.  If a random German stranger engages you in conversation and you want to annoy them just nod and say genau at any opportunity.  When they finally finish look them in the eye, shrug and say "Ich spreche kein Deutsch" and walk away.

In the grounds researching the history

Any way we found das Schloss in the centre of town right where it was meant to be.  It was an interesting old building with the usual defensive measures.  I was struck by how long the entrance way was.  Until recently there was only one way into the castle and this was by a long covered path that zig zagged up the cliffs.  Every 10m there was a spot where heavy timbers could be dropped into slots carved into the walls thus forming an impromptu wall. The other thing of note was the well had a winch that was operated by a running wheel.  Just like the ones used by hamsters looking to shed those unwanted kilos only much bigger. Big enough for a couple of blokes to stand in and operate.

Es regnet

It has rained today for the first time since we moved here.  In fact it has rained the whole day with what can only be described as English rain.  That steady persistent, just a bit stronger than drizzle, type rain.  At least the sunset was nice.

The view from the western side of our apartment

I went to the doctor again today because I was woken up last night with gout.  It has been over 4 weeks now since it started.  The first two weeks were pretty bad but then it started to come good and I could walk without too much pain.  However the joint still remained swollen and slightly painful to touch.  Last night it flared up again and today I was forced back in to limping around like a cripple.

I saw a different Doctor this time and she didn't mess around.  She took some blood gave me an injection in the arse and prescribed some strong anti inflammatory drugs.  The whole process was quite entertaining because her English was not so good and my Deutsch was woeful.  I am not fussed by the sight of blood as long as it is not my own and ever since I had an episode with a person that couldn't quite get the needle into my vein no matter how many times she tried,  I now prefer to be horizontal when my blood is being extracted.  The conversation that accompanied that particular instance went along the lines of.  "Whoops missed it. I'll try again.  Nope not that time either.  Hang on I think I've got it.  Oh no!"  "What?" I enquired.  "The vein has collapsed"  At this point my consciousness said "Bugger this for a game of soldiers" and stepped outside for a breather.  I came to with this particular angel of mercy slapping my face trying to bring me round.

The tour de München

Zum Geburtstag viel Glück

Zum Geburtstag viel Glück

Zum Geburtstag viel Glück liebe mich

Zum Geburtstag viel Glück

The right place at the right time, although the sign ruins it

Cultural experience Nº4 with my German class was a walking tour through München.  Sounds good but there is a problem.  The guide only speaks Deutsch.  It is a testimony to the effectiveness of the language school that Soledad, class mate and new friend, and I could actually understand the gist of what was being said.  I have to admit that it took a lot of concentration and sometimes I would prefer just to look around rather than follow what was being said.  All in all the tour was good and I went to a few places that I had not yet seen.

The highlight of the day was the late lunch I had after the tour.  A few days earlier Annika had introduced me to Krustenbraten at a particular stand in the Victualien Markets.  Krustenbraten is a slice of pork, with some crackling in a bread roll.  So what! I hear the cry go out across Australia, Tis nothing but a roast pork roll.  To which I reply You poor misguided fools.  When it comes to roasting pork the Germans have got world beat, even the Chinese with their roast pork belly must bow their heads in collective shame.  Krustenbraten is a 1 to 1.5 cm slice of lean pork, seasoned to perfection, roasted till it falls apart at the slightest hint of mastication, topped with perfectly salted crackling, not too hard but with enough crunch to savour it's texture; all sandwiched in a crisp white Brotchen.  That is all I am going to say about Krustenbraten.

Cafe Schwabing

There is a café close to where we live that I particularly like.  It is in danger of becoming our Harvest Road substitute.  The food is good and the coffee is good by German standards.  We have been there for breakfast on a number of Sundays and I have had lunch there with my class mates a few times too.  This photo shows a typical breakfast.  Annika as the healthier option. I choose spiegeleir mit bratkartoffeln because it reminds me of the corned beef hash served at Blue Waters Cafe in Cott.  I wonder if I can convince them to put fresh sweet corn in it.

A favourite moment

Sometimes I lose track of why I write these entries.  They are meant to be a record of things that are important to Annika and I, not just things that may present well to another reader.

Tonight we went to yoga only to find that it was closed due to Fasching.  Annika was really disappointed as she had been looking forward to it, I was more pragmatic about it.  It was a lovely evening and we strolled up the street looking in windows (shop windows not the windows of peoples apartments).  On the spur of the moment we decided to have a drink in small Italian bar/restaurant.  I don't know why but it was the perfect thing to do.  We shared some red wine and then because we were enjoying it so much we ordered a plate of antipasto.  The restaurant was perfect, I have tried to find another word but this one fits too well.  We will go back for a meal one day.

Karneval Tuesday München

On returning to München I was surprised to find that the school had decided to finish classes early that day and hold a little Karneval party.  They generously provided the students and teachers with Prosecco and Berliners.  The plan then was to head into the centre of town for the street party.  To give you an idea of how easy bicycling in München is consider this.  The students left on mass to go to Marienplatz.  They took the U-Bahn and I rode my bike.  I was there 10 minutes before them and it cost nothing.  It took a bit of phone coordination to find each other but we got there in the end.

The usual suspects from my class quickly lost sight of the others and congregated around the first stand selling alcohol.  "Let's get some schnapps!"  Some said with much enthusiasm.  I always love playing this game.  "What? You mean like strong liquor.  I don't think I should."  "Go on it will be fun."  "Well just one then..." (Suckers)

 

Harry and I going all gangstar with Feigling.  Yo

 We wandered amongst the revellers enjoying the enthusiasm of the crowd.  Occasionally seeking refreshment and sustenance.  Eventually Harry insisted that we find somewhere that we could sit down and drink some beer.  Being the street wise Münchener  that I am I managed to lead every one to the only quiet bar in the centre of town that day.

The beer forest

Karneval Monday - The big Kahoona

The wooden spoon brigade

The daisy nipple float

Colour

More colour

A smile in the crowd

Distributing the lollies

The society of gynaecologists

The crazy Bumble Bee dancers

3 hours of continuously showering

3 hours of continuously being swung on the end of a davit

Monday was our last day in Köln/Bonn and had us heading into Bonn to watch the Rosenmontagsumzug.  Literal translation is Rose Monday Around Train and means the Rose Monday Parade.  The day was very laid back compared to our other Karneval adventures.  We packed our bags loaded them into the car and drove to a U Bahn station then caught the train into the centre of Bonn.  We arrived just at the start of the parade.  I climbed up onto a switch box next the U bahn entrance, this gave me a good vantage point to take endless photos.  The lighting wasn't ideal and I was shooting into the sun for most of the time.  However I took loads of photos, some of which are posted here.

We watched the parade for almost 3 hours.  This gives you some idea of how long the procession was.  For 3 hours we were passed continuously by floats, bands, dancers and clowns.  Conscious of the time we left before it finished and caught the train back to where the car was parked.  Birgit then dropped us the airport and before we new it we were touching down in München.

Karneval Sunday - another break from festivities.

Accurate colours.  I promise

Another really late night meant a really late sleep in.  We skyped with Mal before heading out the door for another walk.  This one was local and had us heading to the ruins of an old abbey.  The walk took us up into the hills again through the some woods.  At one point we passed a small vine yard overlooking a village.

 
The abbey was demolished sometime in the 1800s for reasons unknown.  There are no records of why the decision was made to dismantle it.  The monastery still remains though.

Karneval Saturday - Ghosts and lollies

The subtle Karneval costumes

Saturday was another slow start.  Birgit once again attempted to make us feel guilty by getting up and buying the mornings brotchen.  Saturday's itinerary was to attend the local parade in Oberkassel and then go into Köln to join the ghost parade.  Frühstück turned into Mittagessen and it was 3 before we headed into town.

The cake women

She is on to me.  Probably judging the range and wind direction.

This is what Karneval was all about.  Parades, costumes and projectile lollies.  I took the DSLR with me to practise missing good photo opportunities.  We stood and watched this parade pass.  This was just a small local parade and no where near the spectacle of the parades in Köln, Bonn or Düsselforf, nonetheless it was something to see.  As I may have mentioned, it is not just the members of the parade, that are in costume.  About 90% of those watching were in costume.

On the train, beside myself with anticipation.

Benny and Birgit

The next event was the Ghost Parade in Köln.  We raced back home to get dressed up.  We were late and literally ran to catch the train into Bonn.  From Bonn another train into Köln to meet with the other Ghost Train revellers.  Regardless of it's origin the Ghost train has become a sambanista affair with many bands joining the procession.  The trick was to find one that was doing well and keep up.  We chose the demonic chefs, as they had the coolest outfits and were playing well.  I noticed that some of my fellow members of the procession had improvised their own drums.  There were people with all sorts of kitchen implements keeping rhythm with the bands.  The parade finally finished under a bridge and the crowd slowly dispersed.  We went to a small pub called the Beehive.  The music was typical Karneval and it was packed.  We left around midnight and started the epic journey home.  Epic it was.  It took 3 hours to get home and we even had to resort to going to MacDonalds to get out of the cold.  I can't remember the last time I went to MacDonalds and this particular visit on reinforced why.  It is pleasing to know that a BigMac tastes just the same Germany as it does in Australia.  No big surprise there I suppose.  The unusual texture of the beef patty, reminiscent of meat but with the hint of cardboard.  The limp lettuce and special sauce that is indeed quite special.

Karneval Friday - a break from festivities

The start of our walk

Friday started late.  Thursday night still lingering in our movements as we went through the motions of breakfast.  Feeling hung over and slightly cheated because the amount of alcohol consumed didn't justify the slowness of our movements or the muziness in our heads.  We had planned not to plan anything for Friday and we succeeded... at the least for the first half of the day.  Shortly after 1 feelings of guilt started to overwhelm the lethargy.  The day was beautiful, clear and sort of warm.  There was no other option than to go for a walk through the forest up to the ruins of Löwenburg Schloss

The walk involved a short drive to the picture perfect town of Rhöndorf, home of some of the largest carp in the smallest pond in existence.  From here we parked and headed into the forest, following trails up hill to the ruins of the Schloss.  The walk was just what was needed after such a late night and it was good to be outside.  The ruins were impressive.  I always enjoy visiting old fortifications and castles as I am fascinated by how they were made and why they were needed. Annika and Birgit enjoyed the chance to catch up and I enjoyed messing around with the camera.

There were lots of my little feathered friends visiting the Schloss that afternoon and I entertained my self trying to capture the little bastards on card (I was going to say film but I guess that isn't true any more.  Card doesn't have the same ring to it but it will have to do).

We left the ruins and headed down to the pub which wasn't far away, our bellies reminding us that it was cold and we hadn't eaten for a while.  The meal was delicious, lentil and sausage soup.  Good hearty food for the walk back down.

That night we had a light supper *, drank red wine and played a really good board game.  It was late again before we realised it.

*I made spaghetti cabonara following an old recipe I got from Mark Beissel.  Mark may seem like an unlikely source for a cabonara recipe but he has hidden talents as a chef.  One day I believe he will step out from behind the shadow of the gastronomic flare which his lovely wife so frequently displays and he will shine with an intensity that will blind his friends and family.  God that sounds good.  I think I will start reviewing plays.

Karneval Thursday

I had an interview today in Leverkusen.  Leverkusen is a town just North of Köln.  It is only 45 minutes from München (if you are travelling at 800 km/h in a Boeing 737 800).  The potential commute is shaping up to be a disincentive.  None the less I accepted the interview as I need the experience and you never know they may have a project planned in München.  I had the choice of dates for the interview and I chose the Thursday afternoon of the ramp up to Karneval. Karvneval or Fasching is a festive period for Germany, it starts at 11 minutes past 11 on the 11th of November and goes until the beginning of Lent.  Nothing much happens until the last 5 days and then the normally austere Germans go crazy, at least they do in Bonn, Köln and Düsseldorf.

The Rhine near Bonn

We flew into Köln/Bonn on Wednesday night and were collected from the airport by friends, Birgit and Ben.  A few minutes on the autobahn and then we were sitting around the kitchen table sharing wine in the fashionable suburb of Oberkassel, coincidently the same name as the fashionable suburb where Paul & Jodie lived in Düsseldorf.  The next morning we shared Frühstück together before dropping Ben off at the Bahnhof.  Ben has a low tolerance to Karneval and chooses to leave for greener less chaotic pastures for the Karneval weekend.  At the station I had my first glimpse of Karneval, the DB train was packed with revellers in costume.  We then went back home to collect Birgit's costume as her work colleagues were to start celebrations at lunchtime.  I will side track for a moment and point out that the first Thursday of Karneval is women's day, or Dirty Thursday as I was later to learn.  On this day every woman can do what she likes with all sins being forgotten come midnight, they also have the right to cut their bosses, husbands, boyfriends, friends, acquaintances or complete strangers tie off should the afore mentioned individual be foolish enough to wear one.  I was vaguely aware of this when we entered Birgit's office Karneval party and became increasingly more aware of it as the party started to liven up.  This old duck in a costume that would have been really fetching on a someone half her age kept giving me the eye.  Now I know that when it comes to body language I am not the most fluent of individuals.  In fact my inability to correctly interpret body language is second only to my inability to deliver snappy one liners in the appropriate moment. However I was pretty certain I was being targeted for some Karneval flirting. So the more this woman kept catching my eye the closer I moved to Annika.  Alas it was to no avail and I ended up dancing with her whereby she insisted we rub our arses together.  We beat a hasty retreat soon after.

Preparing for the interview

The next activity on the days agenda was to attend the interview, the reason we were in Bonn in the first place.  Ben and Birgit had generously decided to lend me their car and Annika offered to come along to ensure I didn't become geographically challenged along the way.  It was only a half hour drive away so we made it with plenty of time.  The interview was to be held in an industrial park with strict security.  Luckily, due to Annika's insistence, I had my passport with me so they were happy to let me in.  The interview itself was one of the best interviews I have had.  Although it got off to a shaky start with both interviewers thinking that it would in Deutsch and not English. Once this had been sorted out the next moment of trepidation came when Andrea left to get me a coffee. Her interview partner looked at me and asked me if I was acquainted with the customs of Karneval and informed me that my tie was in danger.  Thinking that he meant my tie would be in danger later that afternoon I confidently replied that I knew the custom and that I was driving home so my tie would be perfectly safe.  He gave me a pitying look and said.  "Your tie is in danger now.  My colleague has left to get some scissors."  Sure enough Andrea returned not just with a cup of coffee but also with a large pair of menacing looking scissors.  In the end Simon decided that in the interest of international relations it would be best if Andrea did not cut off my tie, at least not until after the interview.  She relented but kept the scissors in full view for the duration of the interview.  The interview lasted 90 minutes but they flew by.  Both interviewers were exceptionally likeable people and asked intelligent questions and expressed an interest in my answers.  I escaped with my tie intact.

The next activity was to head into Köln to join some of Birgits friends who had been celebrating since mid morning.  Luckily Birgits landlord had a wardrobe full of Karneval costumes so Annika and I could blend in with the rest of the population.  Karneval in Bonn, Düsseldorf or Köln is something to see.  99% of the population gets dressed up in costume.  We headed into the student district to check out the street party, this is where we met Andreas and Anna (The king and the Geisha).  After hooking up we tried to find a pub or club to get into.  This proved difficult as 2 million other people had the same idea.  After being kicked out of one club before we had even got in (which takes some doing) we finally settled on a quiet little pub.  It was a little too quiet so we moved to the Altstadt where we found a large noisey pub.

A pub somewhere in Köln

Helen Mirren was there.  She was wearing a black leather choker with studs and matching bustier.  Her make up can best be described as subtle gothic with a hint of dominatrix.  I was hoping that she would try and catch my eye but she remained aloof.  Her friend on the other hand was quite generous with her attentions but she just wasn't Helen Mirren.  Dancing in this pub reminded me of a moment some years ago when I was with Paul and Jodie in similar circumstances.  In that particular instance I remember being struck by the peculiarity of how the Germans celebrate Karneval.  In particular the songs played in the clubs and pubs.  The normal dance music would be interspersed by traditional folk type songs.  What was even more weird was that everyone would sing along with drunken gusto.  There is nothing more fun than trying to sing along to German folk songs with loads of drunk happy Germans all swaying and shouting in unison.  It was a grand night and we didn't get home until gone 2am.

Ich fahre mein Fahrrad like a bastard

We went to the cinema with Melanie last night.  We saw the King's Speech (in English).  The cinema was down near the centre of Munchen just south of the Deutsche Museum.  We rode our bikes there, riding down Belgrad Strasse to collect Melanie, then across to Leopold Strasse and straight into the centre of Munchen.  Riding through Munchen is incredibly good fun.  Melanie was leading because she was the only one with a white forward facing light and I was trailing because I was the only one with a functioning rear light.  Annika, who had no functioning lights at all, was in the middle.  Melanie set a cracking pace which suited me and we alternated between riding on the road and the cycle paths.  The cinema was tiny and decrepit in chic kind of way.  The movie was as good as everyone had said it would be.  I was particularly glad to see Guy Pearce in a supporting role.  The ride home was even more fun than the ride there.  I must remember to take the big camera down to the Isar one night as there are some great shots to be had.

Last night only highlights to me how well Munchen is set up for bicycles and I really am enjoying riding around.  So far I have only hit one cyclist and one car.  The cyclist was a couple of days ago and the car was this morning.  I was late for class and giving it a bit down Belgrad  Strasse.  I was on the cycle path and the lights had just gone green in my favour.  There were two cars turning right and the first snuck through, the second one followed, then saw me.  I had seen all this and adjusted my speed and course to pass cleanly behind the second car.  The driver of the second car, realising he was being naughty, decided to stop the car dead in the middle of the intersection leaving me no option other than to sail into the side of his car.  There was a dull thud as I connected and I was disappointed to see that I had not left a dent.  It sounded worse than it was and both me and the fixie escaped to fight another day.  The driver was very apologetic.  "Kein problem. Alles gut. Now piss off I am late"