Although I lived in Heidelberg as a child and have travelled in Germany as an adult, I hadn't been back to Munich since 1957, when my father was transferred back to the United States. About the only thing I remembered was the Bavarian coat of arms, probably from a little flag which I used to collect as souvenirs of where I'd been in Europe.
A sleeping--and possibly homeless--bicyclist certainly wasn't the first thing I expected to see in the airport, often cited as one of the world's best.
The Lufthansa Airport Express bus dropped me off across the street from the seedy Hauptbahnhof where I stowed my luggage in a locker after buying a SIM card. My meandering took me past Hirmer where I eventually bought a black cashmere turtleneck. Souvenirs get pricier as you age.
The high-end, five-storey men's wear store looks pretty at night, too.
Hirmer sits on a long pedestrian mall that runs almost the length of the city center to Marienplatz.
Street vendors sell even healthy food.
Surprisingly, I didn't see a pretzel until I hit the Lego store.
Where I also discovered a marvelous image of Neuschwanstein, the raison d'être of my sudden trip.
It was hard to believe that I'd lived in this city less than a decade after Allied forces carpet bombed it in World War II. Like Dresden, much of it has been rebuilt from scratch.
I had to cross the Isar River, depleted by drought, to get to the pool.
After a refreshing swim, I stumbled upon Munich's thriving graffiti scene.
Look closely and you'll spot a biergarten behind the hole in the wall.
After crossing back over the Isar, I strolled along Maximillianstrasse, Munich's toniest shopping street. No brand does better window displays than Hermes.
Bicycles definitely outnumbered cars.
A peculiar but well-tended Michael Jackson memorial had taken root at the base of a German statue in the neighborhood.
A skateboarder practiced next to a bronze relief of the altstadt (old city).
Water cascaded over sculptural lily pads in a submerged fountain nearby.
But like much of the area, this pretty entrance had an ersatz feel.
Meet my buddy, the wild boar.
Bavaria isn't as blond as I imagined, either in the football merch ads or on the street.
More Bavaria:
