Wednesday morning Big and I got up early and again went to Coffee Clatch---the third time in 36 hours---for breakfast. I can understand why T. loves this cafe so much...I could move in and live there. The giant bowls of coffee, the comfy chairs and sofas, the good music, and the large windows ideal for people watching. Not to mention the tomato and feta cheese omelettes. Breakfast is very simple in Spain, usually toast, so it was thrilling to receive a menu with so many tasty options.
We then made our way to the Hauptbahnhof to catch our train to Munich. The previous day we checked the schedule, so we knew there was a train leaving at 1:00. We used the handy machines to buy our tickets, although this train was unreserved seating, so we knew we had to be there plenty early. First, we had a coffee and then went to the large press agent to stock up on reading material for the three-and-a-half hour journey. I picked up my usual
New Yorker but was also surprised to see they stocked
Bust, which is sort of the anti-
Cosmo, and had to have a copy of that as well. The last stop before the train platform was to pick up sandwiches and fresh juice for the train ride.
The route south to Munich passes through pretty quaint country towns, as well as some of the bigger cities like Stuttgart and Ulm. The time of the trip is almost equal to flying, with travel to the airports and boarding times included. With the added bonus of picturesque scenery, the train has become our preferred route of travel.
At 4:30, we arrived in Big Jim's former home city, made our way through the bratwurst stands, and crossed the street to our hotel for the next three days, the Eden Hotel Wolff. I highly recommend this hotel to anyone traveling in Munich. The accommodations are topnotch, plus its location to the city center, as well as U and S bahn stations just on the corner, cannot be beat.
Our first evening Munich, we were treated to something I had never seen before, a double rainbow, just outside our hotel window. :-)
After a brief rest, we went out for a walk, in search of food. We chose the Augustiner beer hall as the earlier rainy weather and coolish temps did not make a beer garden a viable option. Little time was required for us to decide on wurst, sauerkraut, and weiss beer, yum yum. We then strolled back toward the hotel, stopping off at one of Big Jim's old watering holes, the Schiller Cafe. This would be the place where Big Jim took my brother for "one" beer a few years ago, only to return at 3:30 am, after hitting the schnapps. The Schiller Cafe never closes; they get around the law by moving patrons to one side of the bar for 30 minutes, shutting half the bar for cleaning, and then shifting the barflies back as they tidy the other side. Charlie, the old-time manager and former boxer, was delighted to see his old friend, and we were rewarded with more weiss beer. Tired, though, from the day's journey (being a tourist can be very tiring!), we were back in the hotel room before 1 and quickly drifted off to sleep.
Until 4 am, when Big Jim woke me. He was sick, very sick. Will spare the details, but suffice to say, it wasn't pretty. After a couple hours, he managed to fall asleep again, and I didn't wake him until almost noon. We were to be at the wedding party in seven hours. Big Jim seemed to feel much better, and he no longer had much of a fever. We decided a walk and some fresh air would do him good, but first we unpacked our clothes for the wedding. It was at this time that we realized the tuxedo shirt we bought only had one cufflink. Ugh! Normally, this would not have been a problem; we could easily pick up a pair at one of the myriad department stores in the center of Munich. But no, it was a holiday, so everything was shut. My thoughts drifted to the entire dresser drawer full of Big Jim's cufflink collection back in the village.... On our way out of the hotel, we stopped to ask the desk manager if he had any suggestions; he recommended we try the tourist kiosks, as well as the shops in the Hauptbahnhof.
Encouraged, we set out in search of cufflinks. But none were to be had. Anywhere. We even walked to the Four Seasons Hotel, thinking they would have a men's shop that would certainly be open. Nope, it would shut for the day. By now, even Big Jim was hungry, so we stopped off for a sushi lunch at an excellent place right across the road from the Hofbrauhaus. As I watched the stream of tourists entering this beer-drinking tourist mecca, I got an idea: the HBH gift shop would certainly sell cufflinks. Wrong again, but we came up with an alternative, the souvenir tackpins. We bought two matching ones, chuckling at our brilliant, albeit tacky, solution. Celebrated by having a coffee and decadent cake.
Except that at 6:30 pm, 30 minutes before the wedding party was to start, we realized that the posts were too short for the double cuff on Big Jim's shirt. Frantically, we searched the room and our bags for anything that could pass as a cufflink. For some reason, Big Jim had two plastic whistles on red cords (left over from New Year's Eve) in his backpack. First, I thought I could make little fasteners from the strings, but then we noticed the wire rings, not unlike those on a keyring, attaching the whistle to the cord. Yes, these would work. Wahoo! We slid them through the holes in the shirt and dashed for a taxi.
Fruit display at Kaufhof's.
The wedding party was held at the Hilton at Tucher Park. We rushed into the lobby and what did we find? A men's shop. And it was still open. :-) We asked the startled saleman if he had cufflinks, and he led us to a glass case. Big Jim picked out a nice pair, as he told the older man our story. He chuckled when he saw our makeshift cufflinks, but gave us kudos for creativity. We made our way to the fifteenth floor and were relieved to see the cocktail hour was in full swing...and that we weren't the last to arrive.
We were seated at the table reserved for the distant relatives and assorted friends, but as it turned out, we could not have had better people to spend the night with. E. and R., American and German now living in Ventura, CA, were really nice, interesting, and well-traveled people. The others seated with us were a younger couple from England and their two daughters, aged 2 and 4, who were incredibly cute and particularly well behaved, considering they had gotten up at 5 am for their flight and only napped for an hour in the afternoon. They partied with the grownups until 1 am.
Big Jim had worked with most of the people there, so he had a good time catching up on their news. The guests were a complete mix of folks from all over Europe, South Africa, and the Americas, so many languages and accents could be heard. We stayed until the early morning, after the Cuban cigars had been brought out but before the second meal was served at 2 am. I was glad I had gone with the black dress. People kept telling me I was silly to follow black-tie wedding convention and that I would feel the fool when I turned up and everyone was dressed in springy floral frocks. Not the case at all. There were only two younger women not in black, and they seemed to feel out of place. Contrary to M.A., who said a room full of women in black dresses would look like a funeral, the effect was of a party full of posh people (and somehow Big Jim and I had fooled them into letting us join them!).
The famous Alois Dahlmayers....
Friday was all about food. After having a bit of a lie-in, we were off to the wonderful food halls of Munich....Hertie, Kaufhof, and the granddaddy of them all, Dahlmayer's. I feel like a wide-eyed child again, perusing the giant Sear's Christmas catalogue, so many amazing potentialities. Our shopping baskets quickly fill...Italian cheeses, Asian noodles, tofu, Crisco (yes, Crisco, which can't be found ANYWHERE in the Iberian penisula). I think twice about the Pop tarts, only because my mother and I were recently discussing how long it has been since we have eaten one of these disgusting breakfast sugar jolts, but decide no, as they don't have the chocolate fudge flavor.
That evening we spent with our friends D. and S. D. is a fantastic cook, and we chowed down on duck, stuffing, asparagus (twas
spargel season in Germany), roasted potatoes, his homemade bread rolls (two kinds), poached pears, and cheese, all while catching up on their lives. At 1 am, we reluctantly pulled ourselves away from the fun to make the last U bahn ride back to the center. Saturday morning we would leave Germany for a few days, returning to Brussels, the scene of the "crime", ie, where Big Jim and I met eight years previously. :-)
hasta pronto,
mylifeinspain
