The Spirit of a Hustler and the Swagger of a College Kid

lots of words.

Hallo InterWebs –

Last night after I spoke with you I went out, alone, for Indian food. Terrible idea. Between my broken German and the fact that I sat pathetically reading my map of Munich to occupy myself while waiting for my food, it was an extremely awkward experience. My waiter was nice, I think (I mean, I had no idea what he was saying; I’m just assuming he was nice), but our conversation wasn’t very effective.

I’m not sure whether the language discrepancies are because my German is so terrible, or because I don’t understand Bayerisch, the strong local dialect, at all. Probably both.

I went grocery shopping and got a few essentials…most essential was Apfelschorle, a carbonated apple drink that I’ve missed dearly. I even found the cheaper, off-brand version.

I slept in much later than I intended this morning, but I forgave myself and rushed off to the train station. Multiple people told me to take the bus, as it is a bit of walk, but I figured since I was in no rush, and since I don’t want to spend money where I don’t need to, I would simply mosey over to the Hauptbanhof and buy a ticket to Salzburg, Austria. Two days in Europe and already crossing country borders. What a boss.

When Rob picked me up from the airport yesterday, we talked about how the Germans are a much brusquer (…translated: ruder) people. Rob told me that they aren’t really rude, but rather like to maintain an image of strength (plus I need to keep in mind that different cultures have different mannerisms).  The “lack of manners”, the abrupt nature of their interactions – it’s all to appear strong, apparently.

As I set off for the bahnhof (train station), I tried to remember that, if I didn’t want to be an “easy target” (as my mom called me), I should appear strong. I began my thirty-minute trek with a confident swagger, I think, and what I consider my best “I don’t give a hoot” face. I failed about three minutes later when I accidentally smiled at someone who walked by. Come on, bRob, rein it in…

I got to the train station, bought my train ticket, and made it on my train five minutes early. LIKE. A. BOSS. I felt very self-congratulatory and triumphant while sitting on the train. I even successfully switched trains in Muehldorf.

Two hours later, in Salzburg, I made my way to the tourist office and had a lady show me, on a map, the highlights of Salzburg.

I had needed to tinkle for a while, but, unfortunately, a lot of places require payment for use of the restroom. On principle, I refuse to pay for potty-ing. I wandered until I found a very nice building, and I asked if I could use the bathroom there. After I did, I came out and realized I had just used the restroom of the Salzburg Congress.

Class.

The Congress building stands right in front of the Mirabellgarten, which is lovely and vibrant. While there, I heard some Americans talking about something or some building in the gardens being used in The Sound of Music, but I was too shy to ask them about it.

Salzburg is such a colorful, glamorous city. 

Must we do this EVERY DAMN TIME, blogger?
Always sideways, always. Normally, I spend forever trying to fix it.
I don't have time - just imagine it right side up.

Barbie's vespa.

When I crossed the large river, I began wandering around somewhat aimlessly. My only agenda was, at some point, to climb the mountain up to the Festung Hohensalzburg, the city’s old fortress.

I bought a buttered pastry (I asked for a buttered pretzel, which they didn’t have, but this pastry was almost as good and pretty much the same thing, just oddly shaped).

My greatest find of the day was a gorgeously clustered and floral cemetery. It was so beautiful.  I don’t really remember how I found it, but I am so glad I did. Above the cemetery was this structure built into a the side of the mountain.

sideways again. dammmmn you blogger.

awkward and a little tan?

i hope i'm this pretty when i die

I was obsessed with that window in the wood.

I payed 1,50 euros to go up and see the two fifteenth century churches built into the cliffs, but really just to find out what was behind that window. Not much. It peered out of the wall of one of the churches, but the window itself was closed off.

After that I decided to find my way up that mountain and to the fortress.

It was a long, arduous hike.  Sort of. I found myself lamenting the fact that I didn’t have my overweight, whiny, sleepy American friends (holla atchu, Jaclyn) there with me to complain about how steep the mountain was and how we really all just wanted to nap.

When I finally made my way up to the fortress, the price deterred me from entering. I didn’t mind, really, because the hike was lovely, and I don’t care too much about fortresses. I decided to explore another path on the mountain, instead. I didn’t really know where any of it led. I actually thought I might have trespassed, but eventually I found a tiny beer garden and assorted houses , so isolated on that mountain!

Eventually the path led me back down, and by that point I was exhausted. I ambled through the city a bit more, but then I decided that I would rather catch the 7 o’clock train than the later one (which would have put me back in Munich at 11pm!).

It’s funny that I rode trains for over four hours today, but I only actively explored Salzburg for three to four hours.

It’s fine by me, though. I realized that while traveling by myself can be lonesome, there’s no time frame, no itinerary, and I can explore whatever I want. If I had been there with a group, I imagine we would have toured the museums, Mozart’s house (I think that’s what it was), and never found my favorite cemetery. How curious.

The train was crowded on the way back. Raucous, foreign singing erupted every so often from the compartment behind mine.  

The train arrived back in Munich around 9:30, and I was a little turned around as I looked for Goethestrasse. An older man saw me and asked, in German, if he could help me. We had a very nice conversation for a while, and he complimented my German. He told me his name is “Sigi,” short for Sigfried. It was all very sweet, and he walked with me to the street I was looking for…but then he gave me his number.

Why would a 60+ year old man give me his number? He wants me to call him so we can have a beer together sometime next week. Somehow, I don’t think that will be happening. Also, does that mean he was just flirting when he complimented my German?

I do think my German went better today…I didn’t break out into English but once.

I think tomorrow I might try and visit Dachau.

-bRob

 sorry, wanted to edit and include more pictures, but i only have one hour per day. 

=(