I got to Munich just in time for the USMNT's final group-stage match against the Germans. I'd been tipped by a good friend from UCL who had gone to uni in Munich that the place to be was the Hirschgarten, an enormous beer garden on the west side of the city. I walked there in time to find that almost all the seats were filled. I wandered through the picnic tables until I found one occupied by Americans, asked if they had room for an extra ex-pat, which they did, and I grabbed a liter mug of weissbier and sat with them. They were from Connecticut and Ohio, had just graduated, and were traveling through central Europe together before starting work. Over the course of the game we accumulated more Americans (from New Jersey and Michigan), and had a great group going. Sometime after the sun set I realized that I had drunk three liters of beer on an empty stomach and needed to head home. Being the expert explorer I am, I decided to take a different and more scenic (a great idea late at night) route home. Eventually I wanted to make sure I was heading in the right direction, but found that I was off the map the hostel had given me. A kind man in the lobby of a hotel informed me that indeed I was walking in the right direction, and eventually I made it back to the hostel to sleep.
The next morning I went right out to the Maxvorstadt, where the museums are located. First up was the cavernous Pinakothek der Moderne, which was awesome. On display downstairs was an impressive array of design objects from the past several centuries, including a number of cars. Above was a quasi-chronological survey of 20th century art, bookended by solo exhibitions of Ernst Ludwig Kirchner and Joseph Kosuth. My two favorite bits were a collection of photos by August Sander, from his "epochal cycle"
People of the 20th Century, which I learned about in one of my courses, and a plethora of drawings by David Shrigley, which were at times poignant but mostly hilarious:
My day ended in the English Gardens in the north of the city. I lounged and continued
Portrait, hanging my sore feet into the refreshingly chilly river running through the park. A pair of children who sounded American jumped in to my left, let the (surprisingly brisk) current carry them past me, and run back to do it again. Across from me was a naked man reading his iPad. I finished with dinner at one of the beer gardens nearby and walked back amid a throng of older people exiting what seemed to be the theatre.
--
 |
| Yeah |
 |
| No Argument Here |
 |
| English Gardens |
 |
| Basketball |
