A Very Expensive Blunder - When the Rat Race Traps You

Sometimes what you force yourself to believe is that you have thought things out carefully. Then you are surprised when this “best” thinking really goes haywire. Those are times when it goes wrong, derails, crashes, and makes you feel lucky to have financially survived at all.

When we were planning this trip, the airfare from Budapest was outrageous. I always look at alternate airports: Vienna, Munich, or other places where there are budget airline flights. Vienna is only 3 hours by train, Munich is 8. The best deal I could locate was from Munich which shaved about $300 from each of our plane tickets. MÁV, the Hungarian railroad has specials for €39 for a one-way fare to Munich. We booked one night at a hotel near the Munich airport where we would get their shuttle to the airport in the morning. So far so good.

What was not factored into the equation was getting to and from the hotel. Okay, it was a subway and then a bus ride, so not a great expense. Their courtesy airport shuttle was not a free service, so we paid something like €15 for the ride.

While still in Nicaragua, I got to thinking that after two long plane rides lasting over 13 hours, one night in Munich on the way home may not be sufficient. We opted for two. Now this is an interesting tidbit. Ron had used Priceline.com to book our Munich hotel for the first night and paid $77. When we decided to extend it to 2 nights, I did it directly with the hotel and paid $69.

Munich is behind the times with hotel services. WiFi cost $5.99 an hour or with a minor discount if you opted for the 7 or 24 hour plans. I refused to pay it mainly due to the fact that they had 2 different plans, one being faster than the other and of course more expensive. When I balked at reception, the young lady gave me codes to access the complimentary version. Needless to say, you type in the code, which releases a carrier pigeon to deliver your e-mails and a tar coated funnel that allows your incoming mail to enter your inbox. Every ten minutes, I was knocked off of the connection. Was I ticked!

Our first night we went to the Hofbrau Haus for a beer. Some costumed Bavarian men shared a table and chatted away in good English. One has a cousin in Erd. It was too noisy and busy to have dinner there. We ventured over to Paulaner im Tal where we had a great dinner, excellent service and delightful surroundings.

The next day, we went to the train station to book our tickets back to Budapest. When we bought the outgoing ticket they would not sell a return for 2014. We went thinking €39 each, €78 total, so I would pay cash. Up to this point, we had only used the credit card once the entire 7 weeks, a fact I was proud of accomplishing. We asked for our tickets and the ticket seller said €240. WHAT??? What happened to €39? Well that is if you buy 3 days in advance. If we could leave on Monday rather than Sunday, we could have snatched that fare. I had to go to school on Monday. I had taken off more time than anyone appreciated, so I wasn’t about to risk the ire with another day. We had to use the charge card again.

Our second night, we went to Hacker Pschorr Brauhaus for dinner. We have eaten here on prior trips for Munich and for what you get, the food is good, plentiful, and reasonable considering this is a major tourism city. We really like the atmosphere of the outdoor area, which they cover and heat in winter time.

Three things about our waitress set me off. First I ordered a beer from their menu. She shouted "What is that? I have never heard of that." Suddenly, I felt transported back to Budapest. I pointed to the German menu and she shrugged her shoulders and wrote it down.

When Ron later ordered a 2nd beer, he repeated which of the beers it was that he had the first time, requesting a second of the same. When she returned we immediately realized it was the wrong beer by the color. She took off so fast we did not bother to try to get her back to remedy it.

Finally, the icing on the cake was when I paid the bill. It came to €38.50. I gave her a €100 bill and 50 € cents. Rather than leave my currency on the table while she made change, she immediately put it into her wallet and then handed me a €10 note. She was ready to zip off, but I stopped her saying just a minute, I gave you a €100 note. Even if I had given her a €50, the change was still not correct. Without blinking an eye and without any remorse, she said "Oh, right!" She then proceeded to give me more change, but still shorted me €2. Before this, the €2 Euro was going to be part of a €6 tip, but then I changed my mind. I said what you shorted me is now your tip.

I had a strong suspicion that this may be a way for the staff to fleece the tourists. As we were leaving, she nodded at us as she was speaking to another waitress and they both started laughing.

As it turned out the ‘savings’ flying from Munich was reduced by transport there, hotel one night before, dinner at the hotel since it was in the middle of nowhere, transportation passes to get to the hotel, shuttle to the airport, transportation passes when we returned, two breakfasts and dinners out, two nights in a hotel, and a very expensive train ticket.

I think Budapest will be our airport of choice for the future.

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The Best of Chicken Crate Seating

Was training to Munich a money saver? This has not been proven yet, but time will tell. We initially decided to book our flights to Panama from Munich since the difference in fare between there and Budapest as a departure point was significant. MÁV the Hungarian train company offers a special for €29 Euros each person to travel between the 2 cities. Reservations cost another €5 more according to the site, but we were charged €58 total with assigned seating. Way to go! 

At 6:50 am we were at Keleti station and so was our train. Boarding according to the car, we found our seats without issue. This train did not have the cozy compartments shared by 6-8 others in second class. They were spread throughout the car, some two-seat configurations on each side of the aisle and some foursomes with two by two facing each other separated by a narrow table. This is where we were placed, a foursome with two seats opposite two other seats. Unfortunately, the train was filled beyond capacity. Not only was every seat filled, but hordes were standing in the aisles and by the restrooms creating a wish list with a place to sit as the number one priority. That said, we were squeezed into this foursome with less mobility than a chicken being raised by Perdue. Adding to the misery was the cold. The air conditioner was blasting out of the vents with an outdoor temperature of 31 degrees Fahrenheit. It seemed like the Hungarians were torturing the traveling masses as a punishment for emigrating. Truncated and freezing, we had dreams of warmer and roomier times ahead. 

By Vienna, three hours later, the train emptied out. Oxygen returned to the cars; you could feel the contracted sides of the cars expanding once again as they were filled like expanding lungs. Three hours down and three more to go, but we could move our legs, once the cramping pain subsided. Austrian conductors are less immune to complaints. Once we were in Vienna, the A/C went off and the heat came on.

Finally after arriving in Munich, we had to hunt down the tourism office for directions to our hotel. We specifically chose an airport hotel due to our early morning flight. The assumption was they would have shuttle transportation to get us to the terminal on time. Ron booked a Mövenpick hotel using Priceline.com, starting his bids at $45. He scored at $65 for the one night. To get there was a hassle, which we did not realize. First, we took the S-Bahn for umpteen stops after paying €10.20 each for a one way, one use ticket. Once we reached our stop, we had to wait for a bus. This was included in the ticket, but a freezing rain had started. After a ten minute wait, the bus arrived. This bus stopped at significantly more stops than the schedule showed, but luckily, there were display signs showing the stops. Almost directly across from the stop we were told to get off at, was the hotel, set back a football field distance from the road.

Settled in the room, which was more than adequate, we realized we were held hostage here. There was nothing the area, so a car or bus ride were required to escape. Dinner was at the hotel, expensive, but delicious. Shuttle rides to the airport are €8 per person. Breakfast is extra, but we chose to bypass it.

When we ventured to the lobby at 6:30 am on Sunday, there was a coffee machine and croissants set out. Once we had our coffee and took a croissant, the machine was turned off and the pastries were removed. No distractions from buying breakfast, I guess.

After arriving at the airport and having checked in, we looked for the Diner’s Club lounge. It was not to be found. This was a dedicated Lufthansa and United terminal, so the only lounge was Lufthansa. The DC lounges were in the other two terminals, but not one we could access. A minimal breakfast ran us €27. 

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All I Want For Christmas

It is that time of year again, another semester at the university has ended and it is time to take off. This year, we will be researching the options of ex-pat living in Panama and Nicaragua, so our out-of-country experience will be longer than usual. We want to see how the other half of the world lives. 

I will blog as much as I can while we are gone. Tomorrow, we will take the train from Budapest to Munich, a six hour ride. We will stay overnight in Munich to fly out on Sunday morning. Our first stop is Newark, NJ and then on directly to Panama City, Panama. That is unless the pilot has too much eggnog and we end up in Panama City, Florida by mistake. 

For those who believe and/or celebrate Christmas, I hope Santa Claus, baby Jesus, Kris Kringle, Chris Kringle, Father Christmas, Sinterklaas, or the Easter Bunny, whatever you call him, brings you all your heart deserves.

Don't drink and drive! Love thy neighbor! Okay, I am still working on this one, but you try too.

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When Your Plans Are Toulouse, You Need to Plan More

“Life is a journey, not a destination.” Emerson got it right when he verbalized this sentiment. We left on a 6:50 am flight from Budapest heading to Munich and then connecting to Toulouse. Enjoying the Diners Club lounge helped a great deal. We did not have coffee or breakfast at home, so we were able to indulge in both free, once at the airport.

Lufthansa is ever efficient. We left on time and arrived to the minute in Munich. Too bad, because we had a 3+ hour layover, so being late would have killed some time. We had the directions to the Diners Club lounge here too, but both lounges happen to be in Terminal 1, while we were in Terminal 2 the Schengen terminal. In order to indulge in relaxation, free food, drink, and easy access to the Internet all free, we had to emigrate from the secured zone we were in after landing.
Leaving the airport was no big deal. Walking to Terminal 1 was like walking the length of five professional football fields and then coming face to face with Passport Control. Since he could not find my latest exit stamp, he asked how long I have been in Europe. Twelve years did not bring a smile to his face. Meanwhile, Ron is sailing through with a different officer, no questions asked. I had to produce my Hungarian residency card. Thankfully, I thought to bring it and then he let me pass with a new stamp in my passport. 

It was the same thing in reverse when we arrived at Terminal 1. Why are you here? This flight is from Terminal 2. We have over 3 hours before the flight so we are going to the lounge. My passport was getting anemic without many stamps recently; this was making up for it. Following Passport Control was security. I hate security. Undo the laptop, take off my shoes, no belt, nothing in my pockets, and follow the drill for the umpteenth time. They too wanted to see my boarding pass, but hesitated letting me through seeing that my flight was not leaving from that terminal. It caused some discussion, but my explanation satiated their need to know or be controlling.

The lounge was worth the effort once we arrived. Humungous, beautifully decorated, and well equipped with Internet WiFi, I was a happy camper. Did I forget the food and drink? There was a large enough spread we could have lunch, drink ourselves silly, but still it kept getting replenished. The variety of booze was fraternity-like in its scope; no bottle was denied admission. Regardless of the temptations, I actually read and graded some papers.

Leaving the lounge was somewhat easier, because we were not paying attention the first time. We could have taken the shuttle between terminals, which would have negated the need for security. We did have to do the Passport Control thing, but the sole officer was on the phone, so when he heard we were just lounging around in the other terminal, he was relieved to just stamp our books and let us pass.

The flight from Munich to Toulouse only required a small jet, which should have been our clue when we saw our seats were in the sixth row. Ron had to check his carry-on suitcase plane side. I had checked mine in Budapest. An hour and 32 minutes later, we were in the Toulouse airport. Tourism information sent us to the bus desk to buy our tickets to get to the hotel. No one could tell us where the hotel was, but we were told to go to the end of the line, the train station.

Once there, we found an Ibis Hotel, which is what I had booked. How fortunate! Opps, it was not our Ibis. We were in the Ibis Budget, down the street about five blocks. It was not a bad walk; close to the train station, but more importantly, even closer to the bus station where we will catch our bus to Andorra tomorrow. With the word ‘budget’ ringing in my head, I expected the worst. It was lovely and for €35, it was a bargain. The staff was very friendly; the room was well proportioned, incredibly clean and more than serviceable for a one-night stay. Had we really enjoyed the city, I would have not minded staying there even longer. Breakfast was an additional €5.95 each, but seemed like it did not make it worth having to hunt down a place. We did have a bus to catch in the morning.

We still had a few hours of daylight left to explore, so we did. There was no preparation for Toulouse. The objective for this trip was to get to Andorra. As we came into the city on the bus, I had noticed down one street an impressive church. It turned out to be Basilique Saint-Sernin. Although we could hear organ music and choir singing, none of the doors would let any of we curious people inside for a peek.

Leaving there, we walked around looking for a dining spot. On what was identified on the map as a main road through the city, there were surprisingly few restaurants available to choose from. There were however, a buffet of pubs lining both sides, but nary a one served food-food. Their extent of offerings was limited to peanuts or chips. What was or really should not have been alarming was the number of gyro restaurants around. Are the gyro places taking over the world?

We settled for a small Asian place that served noodle boxes. I had heard of these restaurants before, but was never in one. I think there is now one in Budapest. I am not clear whether this is a chain or someone else’s ingenuity. You start with a choice of noodles or rice; you then add a topping from meat choices or tofu, and finally a sauce. They cook it up for you then serve it in a paper ‘to go carton’ associated with Chinese restaurants. It was filling, tasty, and enough that we should not have ordered a side salad, but we had.

Walking back to the hotel did not inspire us with underestimating the glories and hidden excitement of this city. Perhaps on our return through before returning to Budapest.

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When You Are 73, You Have to Try Harder

No, I am not dissing someone's age here, but rather a city ranking. Budapest came out as number 73 of most livable cities in the world. No, this was not a survey done by Hungarians abroad or even Hungarians within the country. The survey was conducted by a US company named Mercer. They use 39 different criteria to determine their results. 

Vienna is considered the best city in which to live in Mercer’s Quality of Living survey, followed by Zürich- 2nd, Auckland -3rd, Munich 4th, Vancouver and Düsseldorf tied for 5th place. Prague reached the 69th place while Ljubljana takes a back seat to Budapest at 75th place. 

Read all about it here.

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Munich Metro

I was going through all of the things we had taken away from Munich. I had a Munich metro map. It is quite impressive for a population of 1,356,000, but that probably doubles during high tourism season.

All of my photos are both in this blog and in the Ryan and Ron Do the World blog.

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Training for Long Distance

We had the foresight to shop at the grocery store, stocking up on food for the long train ride home. Seven hours can make a person pretty hungry and thirsty. A manned food cart comes through each train car offering beverages or snacks, but none of it is mouth watering. 

The train ride back gives me time to reflect on the week. It was spectacular even if it was overcast a few days, it never rained. It was cold, but not freezing. I had all good intentions of reading/editing/grading papers, but after the computer had high tea, that was not an option. Thus creating a double edged sword, this being the break,  I had intended to get the paper monkey off of my back, but it seemed I would have that passenger for some time longer; however, it did give me permission to relax and enjoy my surroundings not wanting to rush through to get back to grade papers. A teacher occupational hazard exposed.

Lest I forget, I owe Budapesters a bit of an apology. They are not the only group of people that love to stand in the doorways of the metros, trams, or buses blocking entry to anyone who is unlucky enough to arrive after they do. It seems that the Germans are just as adept at it. They also love to push past on the escalators leading to the metro as if there is a personalize subway just them and they need to reach it before it gets bored waiting.  It must be a people thing.

When it dawned on us that we had actually booked our rail ticket for a full 7 days, we kind of panicked. We generally go on short jaunts, so 7 days? What were we thinking? Ron investigated the castle tours, although there was no mention online about the October 31st closing. He had also checked out a possible side trip to Salzburg, Austria to see if the hills are really alive with the Sound of Music.  None of that was necessary. We found plenty to do and we were busy from the time we left the apartment, generally by 9am until we returned at 10pm or later.  As it is, there are still museums in Munich we did not get to that we would have liked to have visited. It is a rich city of culture interspersed with beer and pretzels.

It also was less expensive than I had anticipated. With each trip I start with great enthusiasm, but as the money goes flying out of my wallet, trepidation sets in. Our accommodation for the 2 of us, was 40 Euros a night including a grand breakfast. Due to some specials with the Hungarian train, MAV, the tickets were 58 Euros each way for both of us; for 116 Euros, we could not have flown for anywhere nearly as cheap.

Finally, thanks to my Press Pass, I did not have to shell out one Euro cent for admission to any museum or attraction, while Ron paid the concession senior fare. This too was a substantial savings.

Once home, back at the computer, it will be time to really get down to grading those papers signaling that the vacation is over and only a memory now. 

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Germany - Munich

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Last Munich Hurrah

Today is our last day here in this fantastic city, but there are still things on our bucket list of what we want to see and experience before leaving tomorrow morning. Strangely, we are saying goodbye to our hosts as they are  leaving for Rome for the weekend, leaving us to man the apartment. We can lock the door on our way out in the morning, but leave the key inside the door. They are so very trusting.


Before the day flies by, our first stop is the Egyptian Museum adjacent to the Residence. They claim it is the only museum in the world to focus entirely on Egyptian art. Having been to Egypt, this is an incredible declaration on their part, forcing us to investigate their honestly. The generic museum brochure states offers that the collection is an overview of all period of history, with dazzling exhibits. Truly, once we entered, we were dazzled and beyond. The exhibits were breathtaking. So many pieces were magnificently intact, boggling one's mind as to how they could stay so well preserved over all of these centuries. 


Having sensory overload, we needed a coffee; Ron suggested heading to a location our host had suggested a few tram stops away. Once we arrived, it took about 2 minutes to realize we were back at the same neighborhood where Ouida the beer house server worked. Walking around the area, but in a different direction, we found some places to browse, but did not stop for long. Museums generally open at 10am and close by 5pm, especially on Saturdays, so there was not a lot of time to waste. Hopping on another tram, we were headed to the Deutsches Museum. This is advertised as one of the largest and most important collections of technological and natural science items in the world. Yet, on the way, we discovered a quaint looking little bookstore that had all of the sensory appeal of days gone by where you wanted to hang around and browse through the books. With a wall of English books, this was entirely possible for us to do and picked up a couple of titles. Interestingly, these were new books, but they were cheaper than what we normally pay for used books back in Hungary. It is a conundrum as to why.


After regaining our senses redirecting us to our original target, we found the museum just a block away. Advertising for the establishment suggests that the exhibits are presented in a scientifically clear and entertaining way. The place is expansive and this is the only museum where they asked me to fill out a short form after presenting my Press Pass, which allowed me free entry. That alone gave me a sense of obligation to enjoy myself. At this, I was a miserable failure regardless of my best efforts. I love technology, but only enjoy science. The scales are tipped heavily for technology, yet this is in the area of computers, cameras, and other things I can envision myself using. Machinery for dairy production does not fit into that category, nor does counting the types of nebular clouds. My immediate reaction is “Get me out of here and fast”. I blame my blood sugar level; the cafeteria was closed and I was starving. Reminds me I still need to get the results of my diabetes test.


In search of a coffee shop, we wandered into one that looked cozy enough. After seating ourselves and doing the panoramic view of the premises, we realized there were only 3 men in the place if you counted us. There was a distinct air about the women surrounding us; they were really friendly to each other. It didn't take long for the light switch in my brain to flip on. This was a thespian coffee shop. Oh, forget that, they were not acting, this was for real. This was a lesbian hotspot, though we were not treated like aliens, so we stayed. If we ever return to Munich, this is on our return to list. Melcher’s Café at Buttermelcherstrasse 21 (Telephone: 24-243-705). 


Learning our lesson from last night, we knew if we wanted to eat at Moro’s, we would need reservations. That ticked off of the list, we hit the stores for some clothes shopping and then back to the apartment to drop off the sacks of goods. After trying the computer once again, it seemed to be working fine, but there were too many days to catch up on; it would all have to wait in line with all of the other “to do” list items. 


Dinner at Moro’s was all we were led to believe it would be. The service was excellent as was the food. I had my heart set on the pumpkin soup as soon as I Google translated it on my phone, but alas it was not meant to be. They ran out. The guy sitting next to me received the last portion. I was tempted to dip my spoon, but he was younger and stud-lier than I, giving me pause. We chose Thai chicken soup instead. Ron’s pork steak and my sauerbraten something style were both declared the best dinners we had this trip. Huge portions besides. 


On the way back, we decided to have a drink at the Teddy Bar. Being this was a gay bar, our impression and what our host told us was that this was a bear bar. For the uninitiated, a bear bar is for those who are the hairy male version of Rubenesque as well as for their admirers. Out hosts told us they thought the bar had closed down, but we found lights on prompting us to give it a shot. Shock would have been better. A gay bar, yes, but nary a bear to be found. This type of gay bar is what is whimsically categorized as a wrinkle room or rather a conference hall for gay septuagenarian and octogenarian gay men. I was the youngest one in there by 2 decades. 


Prior to entering, we had looked over the menu posted and had decided to have Fernet menta, an Italian herbal digestive. I grew up on regular Fernet, which is similar to the German Jägermeister or the Hungarian Unicum. I tried to order Fernet saying it the Italian way, but was only served a “HUH?” Trying again with a little less ancient, still only bartender grunts. The third time was less accented, but with more determination at which a chorus of patrons shouted out “FERNET”! To our ears, the sounds were identical, but perhaps they had to adjust their hearing devices for the first two rounds of requests. We sat for a while sipping our drink talking, but no a soul spoke to us. My thinking is that when this group was in school, learning a foreign language meant Latin or ancient Greek. Disappointed at not seeing a single bear, we went back to our apartment to pack for tomorrow.

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A Spot of English in Munich

On one of our ventures, I happened to escape Ron's clutches long enough to get into a department store to quickly browse. I justified the trip with his wanting new gloves as a good excuse as any. Of course, the gloves he like were 150 Euros. No way! However, in the second store we tried, I spotted some sweater shirts I waned to check out literally, like check them out at the cashier's. Ron has learned one simple sentence to control me for a few hours minimum. He gives me a longing look as he exclaims "You don't want to carry that around with you all day, do you?" I have caught on to this trick long ago. Generally, he tries to fill the day, so there is as likelihood of my getting back there as there is of my returning to the US in the next decade. Slim to none. Stores in Munich are open until 8pm, Monday through Saturday giving me little reason to doubt "I will return" armed with a credit card. 

To divert my attentions, after a coffee and pastry at the market hall, we took off for the English Gardens. Not a sole soul could tell us why it was named as such. Impressions and mental images would conjure up bountiful gardens of flowers everywhere. Although this could not be farther from reality, the gardens were magnificent. It wasn't until much later that I found some history on the gardens. 

It was created in 1789 by Sir Benjamin Thompson, but expanded by successors decades later. It is one of the world's largest urban public parks exceeding the size of New York's Central Park; however it is smaller than London's Richmond Park. English Garden, the name refers to the style of gardening referring to an informal landscape gardening style popularized in the United Kingdom from the mid-18th century to the early 19th century. What we did not see where abundant flower beds. What we did find were numerous creeks with footbridges to cross them; some were elaborately decorated. In spots, there were immature baby waterfalls, but all of this was surrounded by wonderful trees and humongous green spaces. The trees were turning orange, red, yellow, and brown, but were not as vibrant as one would expect. Many were more brackish than colorful, but still the surroundings kept us actively strolling the paths for hours. 

At the outer edge of the gardens that seep into the center of the city, there is a grand gazebo. When we reached this point, there were musicians playing, so we walked a bit further for a coffee and then returned to mellow in a cello serenade.

Our host at the B and B suggested we stop at one of his favorite spots where there was another old fashioned beer hall. It is located near Max Weber-Platz. When we first arrived, it was not apparent why he would suggest the area, but after a block of walking, we found the beer hall. In the back was a lovely garden with seating; the weather was perfect for enjoying the last rays of sunshine, while sipping a brew. We did walk inside to see if there was service outside or if we needed to order at the bar. There was a beautiful red-headed waitress passing by who asked if she could be of assistance, but in German. When we made our request, she said in perfect English "Give me your order and pay me for it and I will bring it out to you."  We were so taken back by her accent free English, we had to give her kudos. She laughed and shared that she is from Florida, married a German and has lived here for the last five years. Her name is highly unusual, Ouida. She shared with us that her grandmother told her it meant 'beautiful little princess'. Ron told her "We are gay, so we are not hitting on you, but you are beautiful." It was the perfect ending to a delightful morning and afternoon. 

Later that evening, we went looking for the gayborhood. Our hosts said it was small and concentrated, suggesting a restaurant to visit. We found the recommendation, but one look inside gave us two impressions: 1. There was not an empty table to be had 2. It looked about as gay as a Jerry Falwell Convention. 

Friday night is not a good night to try to have dinner without reservations. We roamed, searched, hunted, peeked into places and continued on our way. We finally landed at Nach Hause where they advertise food to satisfy the soul. They had one table for 2 open. We grabbed it. It is a small establishment, but it was crowded. One waiter served the entire floor of about 40 hungry diners. He was doing the best he could since he was also the bartender and perhaps the sous chef as well. The meals took forever to arrive. I thought we would have to beg for our neighbors scraps until our food appeared. They shared with us that they had been there since Thursday lunch and just had their dinner when we arrived. When our dished finally arrived, it could have been manure and it would have tasted delicious, we were so famished by that time.

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Germany - Munich

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Between Nymphenburg and a Hard Rock

Ron indulged in an excessive breakfast compared to his norm; it was not surprising that shortly thereafter, he was back in bed with as stomach ache. I blame it on our hosts who were back home. They put out quite a spread, none of which I ate due to my diet. I treated myself later at the market.

The primary trek for today was the Nymphenburg Palace, where King Ludwig II was born.  It was relatively easy to reach by public transport, but we made a mistake taking tram 16/17, which at one point changed to tram 11. We had to backtrack and get a tram 16 for the rest of the route. There is a stop right by the palace, which is set back from the road making for a breathtaking view. 

The palace sits within a park of 490 acres. There are two lakes with multiple dozen swans, geese, and ducks. It is the most enormous building I have seen. If you were allowed to tour the entire building, it would take you a minimum of two complete days. It was originally built in 1675 for the then electorate and his wife, the predecessors of kings. With each generation it was added to, creating the pavilions Amalienburg, Badenburg, Pagodenburg, and the Magdalenenklause. We toured the main building, which was plenty. Baroque, baroque, baroque everywhere baroque. This has never been my cup of tea. Even here, it seems so overdone.


It was funny that Ludwig's father had a "Room of Beautiful Women", where he had portraits done of any woman he considered the pinnacle of beauty. Although there were no blondes or redheads, his taste really ran the gamut.


Museum entrance also provides admission to the Marstallmuseum, which is the collection of the royal carriages and sleighs.  The first impression was that this would be less interesting than the inside of the palace. Not true. It was pretty incredible how those royals indulged in finery for their carriages and sleighs. Since Ludwig II was a bit light in loafers, he could not have a "Room of Beautiful Women", so not to be outdone by his father, he had a "Room of his favorite horses". Like his father, they ran the gamut to.


All the way back to town, we scoured the streets looking for computer stores. It seemed that I would need to replace my netbook and thought it may be easier here in Germany finding an English keyboard than it would be in Hungarian or getting someone to bring it over from the US. The first problem was in finding a computer store. They are as rare as King Ludwig's list of girlfriends. After looking for block after block we finally found one. No luck with the keyboard, but then I had an idea. I could use an external keyboard. That they did have in English, but only one, which was made for a PDA, but was USB. The package was slightly scarred the salesman said. It was 9 Euros so I bought it feeling good that I would soon be typing away once again.


When we returned, I hooked up the computer, checked the regular keyboard, which was still not working.  I plugged in the new keyboard and Windows showed that it was installed and ready to go. Nothing. It did not work, period. No, not even the period worked. Checking the directions it seems there should have been a disk that contained the drivers necessary for the thing to operate, but that was missing. It didn't really matter as a netbook has no CD/DVD drive anyway, so it would have been useless. But then how does a PDA use it, through a computer connection? I found the website for the manufacturer, which happens to be in Maryland. Darn if I could find anywhere on their site to download drivers. Not to be found. I started to contact their support line, but then it occurred to me that the reason I had this damn thing was because I couldn't fully use the keyboard to type anyway. It took me a good fifteen minutes just getting the URL in the browser. Well, so much for being able to type.


Ron and I collect Hard Rock pins. BUT, we only collect them from places we have traveled to, making for an emotional connection. Sometimes we have had to acquire them after the fact. For example, we had the daughter of a friend bring us one from Peru, because when we were in Lima, there was no Hard Rock. The Munich Hard Rock is not grandiose, but very comfortable, so we stayed for dinner. There were enough oldies being played for us to be able to reminisce and stroll down memory lane.

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• The Death of King Ludwig II (neatorama.com)
• Castle Nymphenburg (khamillion.wordpress.com)
• The Hard Rock's 40th Anniversary Memorabilia Tour Visits Full Sail University (prweb.com)

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Germany - Munich

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These Feet Are Made for Walking

Sure we have a breakfast opportunity at the place where we are staying, but the market is so inviting. Just off of Marienplatz, one will find a large outdoor market where vendors are selling goodies that range from farm fresh produce to the cutest little straw animals you can imagine. In the center of all of this is the Maypole, suitably decorated with steins of beer, pretzels, and other Bavarian treasures. Off to the side of the open-air market is a more sumptuous upper scale place to tickle your senses. There are cheese shops, bakeries, chocolate and wine shops all presenting their wares worthy of salivating over. Yes, I went off my diet for a chocolate croissant and a coffee. It was worth every morsel; the flaky crust was buttery rich and the chocolate was as thick as a candy bar. I could hear my waist expanding with every bite.


Next it was time for a culture stop at the Muchner Stadtmuseum. Unassuming from the outside, inside it is like a playground for adults. The top floor is filled with displays of puppets and marionettes to stir childhood memories as well as transport you to lands of fancy. The museum has a special exhibit for Munich's 850th anniversary called "Typically Munich". Every floor was chock full of fabulous things and they allowed photos. Needless to say, we were there for hours. Across the driveway is a Socialist Museum, included in the entrance fee. There was not much translated in English here and after letting our children out to play, it was not so pleasant an experience. Admission is 6 Euros for adults, 3 for seniors. I entered for free with my press pass.


Ron had forgotten his camera, so we went back for it before heading to the Grand Square at Keonigplatz. Entering this square is like being transported to Rome with tremendous buildings with sturdy columns on each side and a massive stone gate at one end. We have no idea what any of them are for, but the architecture is impressive. As much so is the modern and cozy student put at the end of the street where we stopped for a beer. Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate!


The next stop was the Neue Pinakothek Museum. Each evening, a different museum is open until 8pm. which is a lovely way to fit in a couple of visits in one day without liquifying our brain by the end of the day. Admission is 9 Euros, but 5 for seniors and free with a press pass. The majority of works are German artists, but there were Manets, Picassos, and other masters that everyone would recognize. They allow photos too without a flash, so I had a ball doing micro pictures. Rather than take a photo of a whole painting, I would photograph small sections. As I did this, I created captions in my head and had myself quite entertained, though the others were uncertain why I kept guffawing out loud. Once I have the photos up in the other blog, you will see what I mean. We closed the museum at 8pm, which is about all that we close these days. Long gone are the days when we could close a bar.


For dinner, we returned to the old Bavarian style restaurant at the end of our street. One of the young waitresses there speaks excellent English, her service is superb and the food is excellent.


Returning to our home from home, I couldn't cry over spilled milk, but I could over spilled tea. The netbook is still not working.

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Germany - Munich

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Munich Residence for Royals

Where we are staying is about 6 stops from Marienplatz, the center of downtown Munich. The location is really ideal, because the streets downtown look like Madison Square Garden at the end of a Billy Graham performance. We have a weekly transport pass for €12.30, a major bargain over the €2.50 individual tickets.

Our hosts, a gay male couple, are in Paris, so basically we have the apartment to ourselves for a few days. These are trusting souls. We have never met them before. They left food in the fridge for our breakfast, but I am not crazy about their coffee maker so almost the first order of business for me is a coffee stop. November 1st is a holiday throughout much of Europe and this very Catholic section of Germany is no exception. Cafés are closed, so the choices are thin: Starbucks on one side of the road or California Coffee Company on the other. CCC is closest and the caffeine fumes draw me in. Serves me right, the coffee is horrid.
 

Our destination for today is the Munich Residence. This is actually three museums combined. It includes the Residence Museum, the Treasury, and the Cuvillies Theater. The Munich Residence was the epicenter for culture and politicos from the time of the first dukes. Later, they were elevated to electors from 1623 working their way up the royal ladder to become the Kings of Bavaria from 1806 to 1918. The dynasty name was Wittelbach, each generation adding to the existing buildings, making for a magnificent display of edifices. In general terms, the Munich Residence takes up an entire city block. We entered at 10:30 am and finally emerged by 4:00 pm. Once you pay admission, the audio recording is free for both the Residence and the Treasury. The theater needs no commentary. Ron received a discount for seniors and I was admitted free with my European Journalist Press Card.
 

It never occurred to us we would spend that much time in these historic monuments, but the time really flew by. The Residence was amazing, but it really was difficult dragging myself away from all of those crowns. I just know some of them are mine from previous lives. It I had only saved the receipts. 

Alas, when we left, dehydration had set in, so we had to head to the HofBräuhaus to hydrate. The history of the HofBräuhaus goes back more than four centuries. The beer hall was first established in 1589 by Duke Wilhelm V and still welcomes thirsty souls today with drink and food. Casting my diet into the rubbish receptacle, I had a liter of beer with a giant pretzel. Being a holiday, many restaurants were closed, so we needed something of substance to carry us through.
 

With all of the stores closed, it was still shocking to see how many pedestrians there were clogging the arties of the byways.
 

That evening, we found a restaurant open called Opatija. They served German/Croatian food. It was crowded so we decided to take a chance on it. The portions were huge, the food was better than average, and the service was excellent. What more could one want when the prices are dirt cheap in addition.

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Remembering the Past

If you are a regular reader, you will know that on November 1, as I was having breakfast in Munich, I dropped an entire cup of tea on my netbook keyboard. This was not any ordinary tea either. It was Grippe Akut, an herbal mix for colds that looks like it is meant to scare the germs right out of your system. It was that darkish purply-red that you imagine a vampire would have if they didn’t wipe their mouth on their coat sleeve.

At first I blamed myself for the misadventure, but after thinking about it, I am blaming the teacup industry. There is nothing in the gender studies manuals that say that tea is only for dainty little fingers or hands. Yet the teacup saucer we were provided barely extended beyond the rip of the cup, making it difficult for manly hands to grapple with. Well, I do have slender hands, a contradiction to the rest of me, but even I was barely able to hold the saucer with so little to grab onto. As I was moving it from one side to the other, vroom, and the cup did a swan dive right on the keyboard. With napkins at hand, I soaked them to within a fiber of their existence.
 
It seemed I was going to be in the market for a new netbook, but after six days of letting it dry out, the keyboard finally starting function properly. Until then, the information it produced could have provided me with a nifty side career as a code transmitter. Too bad the Cold War is over, but maybe I could contract with cheating spouses.

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Tragedy Struck

 While typing, I meant to move my tea from one side to the other, in the process my hand twitched sending the cup of tea flying all over my netbook keyboard. I soaked it up as fast as I could, but it still permeated the machine. Never having done this before I was unfamiliar with the routine.

It has dried for 24 hours, but it still is typing multiple letters for each. Unfortunately I cannot type like this.

The space bar is not working. To move between words, I have to use the delete or backspace keys. This is what it would look like otherwise.

Thespac;ebuac;kisnotwrkinog.Tnomnovebetweenownorkds,
Ihavetnobusethedletenorthebuac;ksapc;ekeys.Thisiswhatisw
buldlnoklikenotherwise.

An external keyboard is not working either. More from Munich to come when this is resolved.                                                                                                                            

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Germany - Munich

Generally, I don't cross post my photos, but the Munich photos are an exception.

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No Halloween, No Museums, Plenty of Beer

After the herbal sleeping pill, I slept through until 9:30, but since our hosts are not around, all the clocks still shine into the room displaying an hour later than necessary. It adds to my guilt for sleeping in, but I am trying to kick a cold, so I have good justification. A hour here and there will not a vacation destroy.

Food for our breakfast was in the fridge, so we self-served. Our sleeping quarters are six metro stops from the Rathaus. Off we went for a day of exploration, but opps! Today is Monday, so all museums are closed. It is a holiday today and tomorrow, but they will be open tomorrow on regular Tuesday schedules. Most of the stores are open, the exceptions are the smaller stores. The chain stores of course are corporations, so they rely on consumerism habits. Let me say there is a tremendous amount of it. The streets are so jam packed, one would think this is the Christmas season and the Christmas markets were open and everyone was giving merchandise away. It is difficult to walk side by side without getting separated from Ron within seconds. Those who chose to drive their cars are probably cursing themselves for not keeping it garaged. The traffic just sits in place.

We walked and walked, but then finally fell victim to the tourism office for more information. We both had visions of castles dancing in our heads when we planned this trip. The tourism office woman was like the evil witch in Cinderella, “No castle tours! They all ended on October 31st, which is today and you missed them all.” She kept looking past us like Jesus was next in line and she couldn’t wait to get rid of us to tell him her sins and accept him as her savior. Being rude to us apparently didn't qualify on her "To do good" list.  There was only one other person in line waiting for her pearls of wisdom, but he did not resemble any representation of Jesus I had ever seen.

I could not take it any longer, by 3:30, I had to detour us to the Hofbraushaus for a beer. Ron and I had been here last in 1993. There are no longer the buxom women any longer who carry around ten liters of beer on two arms. There is a multinational wait staff, but most of them are men, grumpy older men, but no longer any spectacles of the olden days. They don't wear Bavarian outfits any longer either. The hall itself looks smaller than either of us remembers. The pretzels are crunchier and not as doughy or chewy, but a liter of beer will drown a few sorrows. What I really wanted to drown were those nasty cold germs. I gave them what for with a liter of beer here and later another ½ liter elsewhere. I can feel them grasping for a lifesaver, but I think they are goners. Just to be safe, we stopped at a health food store to get some remedies. For my cold and for Ron’s prevention, they sold us two different cures to the tune of 39.00 Euros, but heck, it is cheaper then suffering with bronchitis and then pneumonia like I have done the last two years. 

By 4:30 the darkness had permeated our surroundings, making our heads believe it was really 9:30 pm or later. What a crazy thing it is psychologically to have to push forward rather than want to head to bed. The streets and stores were still teeming at 7:30 pm, but we were running out of things to do. When the museums are closed and you don’t want to shop until you drop, what is left to do? Oh right, drink.

Well we did hit a few stores. Ron wanted better gloves. That is he did until he saw the prices, realizing he could have bought the cow and had the gloved made for less. We did come upon a store where I found some shirts I liked, but was not willing to mortgage the apartment for them. Who in this economy is paying over 100 Euros for a sports shirt? Finally, we found a ‘reasonable’ store with a fabulous sale. Ron found the gloves he wanted for 10 Euros and I found a sweater shirt on sale for 15 Euros. We both left happy, so we stopped by a restaurant for a beer and to continue to drown my little cold buggers.

Here and there, we saw some young people in costumes or young, young children with their faces made-up like cats or other non-ghoulish creatures. There doesn't seem to be much recognition of Halloween, which is only strange to me since it seems to have grown substantially in Budapest over the years. Many shop windows had some Halloween decor and pumpkins were ubiquitious. 

We will see what tomorrow brings. Without castle tours, this is really going to put a crimp in our week long plans. When it was still warm in Budapest, a bike tour here sounded like fun. Now I don't feel 100% and the weather is bordering on freezing. The idea has lost a great deal of its appeal. We will see.

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