München- Tag 1.

After last night’s post I joined Amy and napped and then we hauled our carcasses out of bed to find some food. The hotel had provided a handy list of local attractions (mostly restaurants and bars, some clubs and a few cultural things), but of course everything was closed- this is Germany, a country that shuts down on Sundays. It’s getting better (some grocery stores, for instance, were actually open today) but the prospects looked grimm. There was a note about a number of Apfelwein (hard cider, a local delicacy) establishments across the river, and that most of them served food, so off we went.

It was a bit chilly- we had to keep moving so we wouldn’t freeze to the sidewalk. We passed a street full of immigrant food kiosks and storefronts. There were Döner (rotisserie kebab) places (sort of like the taqueria of Germany), Asian food of every stripe, and dive bars mixed with new-and-used cell phone stores, luggage and import stores, sex establishments, Italian clothing stores, financial institutions and every sort of high and low-brow business you could imagine. No German Gasthaus though, so we kept walking. We found the street that promised Apfelwein, but most places were closed- the majority that were open were unapologetic bars and some high-end restaurants. Nothing against bars or high-end, but right then we wanted a place that would fill us with decent food at a reasonable price and not expect us to be particularly polite. No dice.

We got to the end, turned around and decided we’d grab the first likely-looking place that wasn’t a) super fancy or b) something we could get back in California, found nothing, crossed back across the river, and found Occupy Frankfurt. It was small, maybe a dozen and a half tents, but so weather proof it almost looked fortified- palette walkways, tarps over everything, people chatting. Interesting, but also cold, damp, and we still hadn’t eaten. Oh, and it was pushing six at night, so a good hour after the sun had gone down.

We went back to the first street we found, and turned in to a Lebanese place. It was, ultimately, a Döner place with Lebanese flair, but quite tasty. Cheap, loads of food, and they left us alone. Perfect. Then hotel, warmth, sleep.

It was a long night fighting jet lag, but we got ourselves showered, dressed, packed and out the door just about 11:00 am. We’d missed breakfast, but whatever. We checked out, left our bags with the clerk, and went in search of food.

Food, eventually, was found by way of a very German cafe and bakery (well, more of a baked good store- I don’t think they actually baked on site). Amy got pictures of what looked like a huge breakfast but ended up being just right, and then we headed off to the Weinachtsmarkt.

On the way, we stopped off at Occupy Frankfurt, and chatted with some folks there. One, an older gentleman from Spain, had been to several of the US camps, as well as the Portuguese camp and several German ones. He was well informed, but eventually wandered away as another guy took over more and more of the conversation. A tall, skinny German raised-in-Texas fellow with a five-day growth of beard, red paint smeared in his hair (I don’t know either), and a field mouse in his hand that he’d found nearly frozen and starving and adopted a few days ago. He showed us around and chattered non-stop about politics, conspiracy theories, genetics, etc.

We’ve all heard the US media speculating that the camps will break down as soon as it gets chilly, but these folks were well entrenched and braving the cold no problem. They’d laid down palettes to make walkways in the mud, and raised tents off the ground and tarped them off to keep them from flooding. They had a meeting hall, info booth, camp kitchen, etc. They had a permit from the city which had been extended through New Year’s, and was going to be extended more provided they turned “more political.” Apparently the city was OK with the protest, but didn’t want it to turn into a flop for homeless people or a party center, and so demanded louder politics. Interesting. They had not been raided, but were very aware of what was going on in the US (although this guy got some of the details a bit muddled). He did mention that the day after the coordinated crackdowns in the US the Frankfurt police had paraded through with K9 units, which everyone agreed was pure intimidation. Still, they had an issue with some drunks from a local bar causing a fight, and had no problem with calling the police, or the police responding. There's much less of the us-vs-them mentality between the Occupiers and the cops here.

We continued to the Weinarchtsmarkt.

German Weinachtsmärkte are famous, and a bit strange. The booths, first of all, are gorgeous. All wood, many with metal or wood roofs, fresh evergreen everywhere, flame-powered heaters standing around for people to warm up at (and with temperatures under 40 degrees F during the day, they’re necessary!), and packed to the gills. Unlike a lot of American markets, they tend to happen in the Plätze (plazas) and are accessible form all sides. They’re bustling, busy places, full of both tourists and locals eating Reibekuchen (sort of like deep-fried latkes), Wurst (grilled sausages of every stripe- mostly Weiswurst (what we’d call German sausage), Kielbasa, Kümmelwurst (Italian sausage) and Currywurst (Polish sausage drowned in a mix of ketchup and curry powder; delicious, if you can take the herbal equivalent of a boxing glove to the taste buds)), and drinking coffee, tea and Glühwein. Glühwein is everywhere this time of year- it’s a sweet mulled wine with cinnamon, cloves and orange wedges. Like at most Märkte in Germany, all drinks are served in ceramic cups or glasses, with a deposit of a few Euros. At night (the markets stay open until 8 or 9 at night) there are crowds of young people clustered around standing tables and heaters, clutching cups of hot Glühwein and chattering, laughing and enjoying the cold.

Did I mention it’s cold?

Much like the Renaissance faires or farmer’s markets, the Weinachtsmärkte have a few distinct types of booths that populate them, and you’ll see upwards of five of each within a single Platz. Würstchenbuden (sausage booths), Schokoladenbuden (chocolate booths that sell hot chocolate, coffee and tea), Holzschnitzerei aus Südtyrol (wood carvings from southern Tyrol), Imker (beekeepers, meaning honey, beeswax candles in a million different shapes, mead, etc), Bäkersbuden (bakery booths, offering pretzels, breads, cakes and some pastries) and of course Glühweinbuden (Glühwein booths). There are some others with wool crafts (gloves, socks, scarves) leatherwork (wallets and belts), gemstones and every stripe of candy booth, but those are the big ones.

After wandering about for a bit, we headed back to catch the train to München. We were too late to catch the 2 o’ clock train, so we stopped for lunch at an Irish pub. This thing was quintessentially Irish: tall ceilings, wood floor, hardwood bar with brass fittings, and traditional Irish music. And by “traditional Irish music” I mean “U2.” The waiter had a Dublin accent and looked about as Irish as could be. The fish and chips were spot-on, and of course the only tea in the house was black. Perfect for a cold day.

Then we ran back to the hotel, grabbed our bags, jammed to the train station, bought tickets, hopped on the train, and it pulled out less than 4 minutes later.

So: the train station. This thing was enormous. It had about 15 tracks, all terminating there, and was entirely roofed over in a huge metal hanger-like structure. In front, it was stone with gargoyles and statues, but inside it looked like a Victorian aircraft hanger. Truly stupendous. The trains, though, were everything but Victorian- sleek, fast, very quiet, with glass partitions between the cars and sliding doors. Comfortable and modern.

Three hours later we got to München, where it was (surprise!) cold and dark. We found the hotel and took some downtime, then slid on long underwear and ventured back out for dinner. First the Weinachtsmarkt down the block (in front of the local Tor, the medieval gate), and then down toward the Münster (cathedral). We got close, and found a Gasthouse (brewpub) that had been there since the 15^th century (supposedly). It was as Bayrisch (Bavarian) as the pub was Irish. Food was delicious, Bier (meaning “beer” since Germany doesn’t differentiate- this was a a Dunkel, meaning a dark lager) was good, and the service friendly. We shared a table with another couple, and then a couple of friendly middle-aged women who dropped in for cappuccinos. Germany is not for shy people.

Happily full of Glühwein and Bier, we hit the now-closed Weinachtsmarkt at the Münster, then wandered through the streets of München. Shortly after we passed through the Ratshaustor (city hall gate), it started snowing, first tiny crystals then big, fluffy flakes. We passed high-fashion stores (including the Apple store, the Northface store, the Tesla Motors dealership), medieval things, various Tore, Kirchen (churches), more vague memories like the Rindermarktstrasse (cattle market street) and Rossmarktstrasse (horse market street), and of course a myriad of Gasthäuser, each older than the last. Then back to the hotel to warm up, check email and finish writing this.

The hotel, by the way, is a little bit disappointing after the last one. This one, Hotel One, really made a big deal out of it’s designer decoration, which is certainly true in the lounge, but a bit lacking in the rooms. Downstairs it’s very postmodern with comfortable chairs, huge glass windows that open to the street (doors, really), modern lighting and aquamarine accents, but the rooms are small and Spartan, and look like the “designer” was a bit of an afterthought- aquamarine accents and a renovated bathroom. Still, it’s fairly cheap and in a good part of town and full of young travelers like ourselves. We'll take it. It's going to be our headquarters for the next 4 days.

And now I'm still typing away in the lounge (free WiFi!) while Amy's already upstairs, probably crashed out, and it's pushing midnight. The carols on the stereo are getting a bit desperate ("All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth"? Really?), and it's high time to turn in.