Forget any sort of sensitivity to bacterial cultures or wheat that have plagued me in the past: this week is all about beer and bread. And schnitzel. And pretzels. And cake. And eating in general. Germany and I were meant to be friends.
I got into Munich on Monday afternoon and met my longtime friend and former roommate Lindsay at the train station. Lindsay moved to Germany in September after marrying Roland (affectionately called "ze German" by our group of friends). We saw the Rat Haus which is the old city hall of Munich, and the Hofbrau Haus, which is a huge hall where Nazis used to have large meetings, and had an authentic German dinner of spinach dumplings in a magnificent cream sauce (read: fatty and divine) and veal with mashed potatoes. Beer of choice? Hefeweizen, which people usually have with breakfast. We had another pint at another beer house before taking the train to Straubing, Lindsay's and Roland's town.
On Wednesday, Lindsay made us boiled eggs and we had fresh bread with a plethora of spreads (is this the same as calling your boyfriend and telling him everything you've eaten that day yet?), and after some window shopping we stopped for coffee. Fact: Germans are enthusiastic about cakes with their midday coffee, so we had a slice of macaroon-almond-mocha cake and lemon-cream-marzipan-something-or-other (just to fit in). And then I had a great massage in town to get rid of the aches and pains of the camino. We had a lazy afternoon and evening (probably from all the cake), watched a movie, and talked to our other old roommate on Skype. We ate dinner but I feel like I need to break the trend of listing everything i've eaten in this country so far so you'll just have to survive without knowing what was for dinner (but it involved salmon and vegetables). We also picked up movie theatre popcorn for our movie at home and they only have kettle corn at the local theatre so we excused our late night snack as being "cultural" and munched away.
Tomorrow holds a trip to Oskar Schindler's hometown, a 12th century torture chamber in a courthouse, a restaurant that's been open since the 1200's, and a drive to Roland's parents' house in the Bavarian countryside. Oh. And eating.