As published in the April 2024 edition of Planet Golf Review Magazine
Imagine feeling awake, alert and fully alive after spending hours in planes, trains, and automobiles. Are you having trouble doing that? So did I until I touched down at Franz Joseph Strauß airport and immediately found my way to one of Munich’s best-kept secrets.
While many of you may not agree, I find overnight flights magical. Primarily because it never ceases to amaze me that I go to sleep in one country and wake up in another. What I do not relish is leaving my bags with the concierge, then aimlessly wandering the streets until my room is ready and I can grab a nap. But thanks to a tip from a friend and savvy traveller, I have found an alternative that is bound to influence future itineraries.
Left: Theresienwiese midway at night – Right: The Vitality Oasis
Instead of heading directly to Paintner Gaestehaus, where we are staying, I opt to spend my early morning hours at Therme Erding, Europe’s largest spa – occupying 185,00 square meters, it’s easy to get lost in this tropical paradise, and that’s precisely what I do. After a plunge in the cold pool followed by a series of mineral baths and a hot stone massage, the weariness of the past few days slips away, and a sense of contentment descends. Intending to read my book, I find a quiet corner where I can stretch out on a luxurious lounger, but within minutes, my eyes flutter shut, and I am dreamland-bound.
The warm sunshine filtering through the palm trees gently teases me awake. I feel refreshed and reenergized, but for a moment, completely disoriented. I’m meant to be in Bavaria, not the Bahamas! Then I recalled that I had made a detour from the airport and can attest to the fact that the Vitality Oasis lives up to its reputation. Gone is any hint of jet lag, and I’m primed to begin exploring Munich and the world’s largest beer festival – Oktoberfest.
Siegestor (Victory Gate)
Munich is the heart of Bavaria, and Marienplatz is the heart of Munich. Not much bigger than the original settlement established in 1152, Marienplatz is now a busy commercial area visited by thousands daily. Still, at every turn, I hear the whispers of the past and cannot help but be seduced by the old-world charm surrounding me. Stunning cathedrals and architecturally significant buildings frame the massive pedestrian square. Still, I must get behind the facades to uncover the secret gems that have shaped Bavarian culture and inspired countless generations.
As luck would have it, I emerge from the S-Bahn just as the City’s famed glockenspiel springs to life. Forty-three Carillion bells musically accompany the scenes that tell a tale that’s been told for over 100 years. Even though I know the Lothringer Ritter doesn’t stand a chance against the Bavarian Knight, my eyes are riveted on the joust far above my head. And when the errant foreigner is unseated, like everyone else in the crowd, I spontaneously applaud the local knight’s victory.
Left: Neus Rathaus (new City Hall) – Centre: World Famous Glockenspiel – Right: Olde Town
I can now study the impressive New Town Hall (Neus Rathaus) when the crowd disperses. As my gaze wanders over the intricate stone ornamentation, carved columns and richly coloured stained glass windows, I spot a small sign pointing to a ticket window where I can purchase a lift to the top of the tower. Cheerfully, I hand over 6,5€ and within minutes, I’m on the observation deck, staring over the rooftops of Olde Town, past the onion domes of Frauenkirke, and across sweeping views of the Isar river, all the way to the Alpine chain of mountains that casts faint shadows along the horizon. In a word, spectacular!
After hanging out at the top of the world, I think I’ve seen all there is to see, but something prompted me not to be too hasty, and I set out to explore some of the many rooms that are open to the public.
Upon entering the Law Library, my eyes are drawn to the gleaming wooden bookshelves that encircle the room, but it’s the gilded spiral staircase that rises to kiss the 10-meter ceiling that captivates my interest. The lady beside me murmurs that it’s very ‘Harry Potterish,’ but another memory gently tugs at my subconscious. I feel like I’ve been here before, but that’s impossible, as this is my first time in Munich. Then, our guide asks us to close our eyes and listen as she hums a couple of bars from a vaguely familiar tune. It’s been years since I watched Cabaret, but suddenly, I can hear the music and picture Liza Minelli in front of that staircase, ‘strutting her stuff’ as the infamous Sally Bowles.
Emerging from New City Hall, I note the number of people clutching bags in their hands and take a moment to check out the retail scene. I could shop here like royalty at the trendy boutiques or seek a fashion consultation at the luxurious Breuzinger Fashion Store, but I much prefer poking around open-air markets, so I head to the Viktualienmarkt in Olde Town to wander among the stalls and talk to the vendors.
When we travel, we create new memories, but sometimes, the sights and sounds of a new place trigger a childhood remembrance that forms a bridge between the past and present.
My Dad was Irish and a connoisseur of the humble potato. He often lamented that after he moved to Canada, his penchant for spuds diminished when there were only two or three basic and, in his mind, boring choices available. So, you can imagine my delight when I stumbled across a stall selling only potatoes but offering more than thirty varieties. As I listened to the farmer extol the virtues of each one, I could hear my father telling me what he would not give for a sack of Cobblers or Queens, and I was back in his kitchen, making dinner together. I leave with a plan to import some seedlings when I return home and a reminder of how my Dad had taught me to relish life’s simple pleasures.
Ein Prosit!
Speaking of simple pleasures, during my university days, one of the highlights of the fall semester was a trip to Kitchener-Waterloo to celebrate Oktoberfest. Billed as the world’s second-largest beer festival, in those days, I never thought I would find myself in Munich, where it all began. I didn’t know what to expect, but as I joined the throng of women wearing elegant dirndls and men sporting stunning embroidered jackets and lederhosen, I felt the excitement mount, and suddenly, I was twenty again.
Sweeping through Theresienwiese’s gates, I’m astounded at the sheer magnitude of the venue. A giant Ferris wheel dominates the midway at the far end of the fairgrounds, and in between, there are hundreds of carny stores and food booths serving up local delicacies like veal sausage, potato pancakes, crumble cake and my personal favourite – crispy pork knuckles with sauerkraut. The six major Munich brewers have erected massive, temporary beer halls, some accommodating 10,000 plus patrons. I take a seat on the terrace at Paulaner’s for my first taste of sweet Munich lager, and within minutes, I learn that my companions at the table hail from North Dakota, Ghana, Munich, Spain, and the Czech Republic. Indeed, it is an international gathering!
After several renditions of Ein, Zwei, and G’Suffa, I say Auf Wiedersehen to my newfound friends and make my way to Oide Wiesn to join my colleague, Markus, who has ‘won the lottery’ by scoring a table for eight in one of the tents where we can immerse ourselves in the Festzelt traditions.
I’ve had a brilliant evening, singing slightly off-key, fumbling through a polka and raising my stein in a series of never-ending toasts. I know the party will continue for hours, but I have more common sense than I had when I was twenty, so after two or was it three litres of beer, I make the wise decision to trundle back to the guesthouse for a solid night’s sleep before heading to the Alps tomorrow.
That refrain keeps playing through my head as I meander throughout the medieval town of Füssen. It’s drizzling rain, but that doesn’t dampen my spirit because the cheery pastel-coloured buildings were created to chase the gloom away.
I take my time navigating the cobblestone streets because the view changes every few steps, and there are new treasures behind every door.
Füssen is nestled among a cluster of mountains, so some of its greatest finds are not readily visible. Fortified after a hot cup of coffee and a slice of the best apple strudel I’ve ever tasted, I veer away from the shops in search of Hohes Schloss, which turns out to be one of the best-preserved castles in Bavaria. Choosing a different route back, I’m drawn towards the rococo paintings that adorn Heilg-Geist Spital Kirche. I nip inside for some respite from the rain and am awed by the peace and tranquillity I experience sitting quietly in this small, serene sanctuary.
The last door I open leads me deep inside the Benedictine Monastery of St. Mang. While the church is impressive, I spent what time I had in the Müseum. While I’m unfamiliar with any of the artists, I’m fascinated by how the curators have woven art and history together to tell how the village earned its reputation as Europe’s premier manufacturer of lutes and violins.
What I intended as a quick stop for coffee has turned into a three-hour adventure, and frankly, I wish I could have stayed longer. Now, I have to make tracks to get to Schwangau in time to tour the world-renowned fairytale castle that many consider King Ludwig II’s great folly.
The road leading to Schloss Neuschwanstein is long and lined with trees that obscure the view, but as I round a corner, the silvery walls and glistening turrets appear to rise from the clouds. There is no denying Neuschwanstein’s breathtaking beauty, but today, shrouded by a curtain of rain, it seems more mystical than magical. Still, I can feel the alchemy that has captured the hearts and souls of millions, including Walt Disney.
History would have us believe that King Ludwig II was ‘mad’ for investing his fortune in constructing an enchanting tribute to his best-loved composer and friend, Richard Wagner. But, as I gaze upon the man-made wonder before me, I ponder if this is true or if the young king was simply misunderstood. From my observations, he was a visionary – daring, imaginative, highly creative and determined. That his legacy endures is a testimony to the fact that even though King Ludwig didn’t live to see Neuschwanstein completed – dreams can come true.
The message is clear as I reflect on what I have learned on his trip. Too often, we are content to admire the exterior but fail to open the door to experience the beauty that lies within. This holds true for the places we visit and the people we meet along the way.
I remember the potato vendor, the server who brought me my breakfast this morning and the gentleman on the bus who took me under his wing to explain how the City’s transit system worked when I first arrived. A simple act of kindness that made an indelible impression. All it took was a question or two to spark conversations that revealed more about Bavarian culture and tradition than I would have ever learned from reading a book.
To quote Walt Disney, “We keep moving forward, opening new doors and doing new things, because we’re curious … and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths”. A good mantra wherever you may roam.
To read the entire April 2024 issue of Planet Golf Review click here.
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