Naked Gardens and Pope Booze
Trip Start
Apr 12, 2006
1
70
115
Trip End
Ongoing
Munich,
Germany
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
I have to say, as far as cities go, Munich is defintiely a very cool one. It's not overtly amazing or unbelievably spectacular, but it's clean, its set out well, the train system is grade A and the architecture is fairly dazzling. It exudes a welcoming vibe for the travelling backpacker, and provides a fine late night traipsing ground for the goose who books no accomodation. I really didn't do a great deal today, pretty much just checked out the Marienplatz area, went for another lenghly hike around town, and soaked up the World Cup action a little more
chillin in english gardens
. Walking north to the enormous English Gardens, i came across a number of eye opening sights, including a few German skegheads on surfboards riding the 'gnarly whitewash' from the solid current in the local river, and the hotbed of predominantly nude old blokes splayed about on the eastern bloc of the grassy gardens. The latter in particular, i was not expecting. Mykonos, yes. Munich, no. I would have had little problem with the situation had there been a greater ratio of nude sunbaking females, but alas, it seemed that patronage was majoritavely loose membered old gits with their wares on full frontal display. Nonetheless, it was a nice setting, sitting back, soaking up some rays, listening to 'Tommy' by the Who, and slurping down a bottle of 'Papst Beer' that i bought from some woman in the park flogging an esky full of coldies to thirsty youngins like meself. 'Papst beer, in case you weren't aware, is 'Pope Beer', the official brew of the Vatican, a sweet, rich lager complete with the emblazoned nut of a fairly devious lookin Ratzinger on the top label, the Ratzman himself, looking proud as punch that his beer was a good drop. And it was. i'd reccommend it. Keep it coming Popester, keep it comin'.Anyway, the day totally got away from me, and i soon found myself back on a train to Starnberg in the winding down evening. Somehow I walked from Starnberg station to Erika and Rude's place 20 minutes down the road with some of the worst chafing i've ever had, probably looking like a right freak to traffic passing by with my bum perched primly outwards behind me like I had the ass of a duck. But with legs walking wide like rickets, i eventually made it back to the manor, chilled outside with my German hosts, knocked back a stein of Weissbier, and conversed with Erika and Rude over candlelight as the night dissipated.
With an early start ahead tomorrow morning, i hit the hay at around 11, and looked forward to the next adventure.
Tomorrow i would hit the jewel of the Czech Republic, the glorious city of Prague.
