Munich loves you.

That's the city's official motto, and I must say the feeling is mutual.  I just love this place.  I just feel great in this place.  Don't be surprised if we stay here more days.

Munich.  Debbie brought us to the Stuttgart Hauptbahnhof and by noon we were on a train to Munich.  It was sad to say goodbye to the Burts and Chester.  (I don't know what it is about this trip, but all of a sudden I really feel like I could love having a dog.  And you know I've never really felt like that before.  It's  . . . magical.)

The train toward Munich was packed with youths, and we asked some of them what the big deal was, and they said they'd just gotten out of school; they go to university in Ulm and commute home.  Some nice kids told us some of the best sights to see in Munich.

I just can't tell you how much I love Munich.  We didn't even really do anything today-- most of the purportedly AWESOME museums were closing down by the time we got here, so we just walked to the main square (Marienplatz) and watched the tourists watch the clock tower play.  There was this great accordion/clarinet duo playing in the platz.

We took the U-bahn to the English Gardens, Munich's Central Park but bigger, and walked around.  They're great, they feel just unmanicured enough.  And there is a place where a stream comes into the park from under the road and somehow creates this perpetual wave, where surfers come and ride back and forth across the stream.  Way cool.

Next we went to the Hofbräunhaus, a fabled traditional beer hall.  Somehow, though, we ended up in the part of the building with all the Japanese tourists.  They loved the lederhosen-clad brass band and the awful singer and the alpenhorn players.  Heck, who am I kidding: we did too.  The alpenhorners were actually, legitimately incredible.  I ordered a non-alcoholic beer, and I didn't love it.  There was a buffet of pigs' feet and pork roast and knodel and other assorted Bavarian foods.  Overall, it was an experience.

Still, I love Munich.  Down the street from our hostel is an international phone calls shop where all these African guys hang out, in the store, outside it, down the street-- it's like this gathering place for African guys, just hanging out and chatting with one another, and, presumably, their loved ones a continent away.  Way cool.

Wir lieben Ihr.  I think that means we love you.  I don't know about anything in German for sure because every time I feel confident enough to say a phrase from our phrasebook to a German, they just respond to me in English without missing a beat. Except the AWESOME accordion player from the Marienplatz who we saw there AGAIN as we walked home under twilight.  Just sitting there playing Ave Maria and Toccata and Fugue on the most incredible accordion I've ever seen.  We tried talking to him in English-- no go.  I spent a few minutes wrestling in my mind before I could say something to say to him in German, but he just kind of smiled and kept playing, as if to say amiably, Hey, I'm Here To Play My Accordion, Not Give You A Cultural Experience.

The riddle will have to wait until tomorrow.  We'll just be in Munich anyway.  Love.

-W.