From Africa To Russia

Next morning, get up and go out to explore Munich, baby steps. See the Marienplatz again, walk towards the big gate. There are lions everywhere in Munich, stone lions, of all different colors. I eat some raspberries at a stand, then angle north and come to Odeonsplatz. Large statues within a greek-style building to the south, a nice garden to the east. Munich is bright, spacious, cultural. I stroll through the garden, and take a rest, then head south through side streets, looking for the Hofbrauhos. I see a sign for it to the right, I follow it. Then another to the left. This doesn’t jive with the map, which shows it at a different place, but I’ll bite. After a while, I realize the signs are taking me in a tight circle, going nowhere. I use the map and find it immediately. The Hofbrauhos is a large, slightly loud, fairly touristy beer hall in the center of Munich. There is a band playing traditional German music, rooms and side rooms and terraces going every which way, lots of beer and people spilling everywhere. I sit down, get a giant dark beer and some sausages and sauerkraut and enjoy the revelry. A German couple comes and sits at my table. They don’t speak much English, but we use sign-language with good intentions and everyone enjoys themselves. The beer is great, I am feeling fine, back on my feet it seems. All systems go. The Germans as a whole seem to be efficient and polite, I am impressed. In the evening, I take the metro up to Olympiapark. I believe this was the site where the Israeli hostages were kidnapped at the Olympics some thirty-five or so years ago. There is a giant metal spire of a tower, and a few intricate pavilions placed here and there, the roofs composed of adjacent plastic squares. At the center of the park, of course, is a gigantic TV screen reaching up to God, and a mob of people sitting on the hill watching the World Cup. There are dozens of food stalls along the way selling various goodies at high prices. I am tired of spending money, so I buy nothing, stroll around a bit and then head out. There is a fair amount of security and bag checks at the entrances. A pond near the bus entrance has the largest ducks in the history of duckdom, they are the Arnold Schwarzeneggers of the duck world, they pump eet aaap, you girlie maan. They are unconcerned with everything, sitting munching grass, and only scatter when a swan comes rushing over to confront them.

Day two of sitting around, the room is hot, I am sweating and bored. I am feeling a little better, but perhaps simply because I am not moving. Tomorrow I will venture out into Munich to test my stamina. If all is well I will continue, but if I collapse again I may have to throw in the towel. There are a series of bells that ring from towers right outside my window, they have been ringing nonstop for two days now. They chime the hour, the half-hour, every fifteen minutes. Every hour or so, one bell will ring continuously for about twenty minutes, ‘gong gong gong gong’, with no interruptions. Then when this stops, about three minutes later three bells will start ringing together, staggered and rapid fire ‘gong-g-gong gong-g-gong gong-g-gong…’ for another half hour or so. Just when you think they have stopped, they always have to throw one more good one in at the end. This has been going on continuously all day long, and is maddening. I am going to go up there and throw the fucking bell guy out of his tower. Go out to get some food around noon, find out the supermarkets in Europe are all closed on Sundays. So I do a bit of exploring locally, find the Marienplatz and the hordes of Brazil-shirt-wearing tourists, and find a little place with outdoor tables in a courtyard to sit under the trees and have some sausages and beer. It is true, German beer is damn good. A guy and a kid ask if they can sit at the table with me, since all the other tables are taken, then a couple comes up and does the same thing. It turns out the two guys are brothers, and they are all part of the same group. They are from Switzerland and are there for the World Cup, they have tickets for the Brazil match at six (Ronaldinho is the big Brazilian football star by the way; he has large teeth). The one fellow’s wife is Chinese, but now lives with her husband in Switzerland, and plays for the national women’s soccer team. Her legs look quite strong. The kid is a family friend, born in India, and he is very grown up and well-spoken. After a while, he puts a hand on my shoulder, “So what do you think of Bush?” I give him the same neutral, non-informative spiel I have been using all throughout Europe, not wanting to upset anyone one way or the other. The first guy is a big, jovial fellow who has wild hair and earrings and a big waist and a wife and a house in Columbia and who is great fun, he guzzles beers and we chat and laugh. We do a drinking cheer together multiple times. I have another beer. I am no longer feeling faint like the other night – I must be getting better. They tell me that life in Switzerland is very comfortable and safe and relaxed, that people don’t lock their doors. Sounds nice. Then, ironically, the kid asks me what Detroit is like, out of nowhere. I tell him it isn’t exactly like Switzerland. (I am from New Jersey, but have been to Detroit.) Thomas the big Swiss has a good repartee with fraulein waitress. “The Germans love the Swiss,” he tells me. “They think we are all stupid.” He gives me his card and tells me to give him a call when I get to Zurich.

Lay in bed all day, taking my medicine and waiting for improvement. Have no energy, if I get up for five minutes I have to lay back down again. Rained last night, only the second time on the trip. I ... [Continue reading this entry]

But in the morning, I feel a bit better, and head out on the train to Munich. At the station, a nice polite man in a uniform comes over and directs me to the proper counter. The man at the ... [Continue reading this entry]