With a population of a million people Munich is a pleasant place to walk around and boasts a number of attractive historical buildings. The main square Marienplatz and its’ Marien column contains the famous Glockenspiel; a giant clock which chimes and re-enacts two 16th Century stories with life-sized carved characters. During winter this happens daily at 11am but unfortunately we missed it this time round and only saw the figures in their inanimate state.
Although the town square is usually packed with tourists to witness the chiming, Scandy downplayed it’s appeal and even did a a short re-enactment of the fifteen minute show involving some dancing, clapping and bird chirping at the end. Elsewhere in the city there were some impressive old churches and cathedrals and we spent some time at an open air market near the town centre.
That night we visited the Hofbrauhaus beerhall and consumed many a stein in the massive building packed with other revellers. The quality of the beer was great and the traditional food they served excellent. One of the specialties was pig knuckle; a tasty mountain of pork cut from the knee joint. Our enjoyment of the food and drink quickly overshadowed the scene that had greeted us on our arrival when a drunken patron was carried out by two burly security men and literally thrown out the door.
At around 10.30pm a group of us left the hall to catch some of Munich’s other nightlife. Jumping on two bicycle rickshaws my party was manfully driven by a guy called Francis who proved extremely friendly and helpful taking us to a nearby club. After some gentle heckling about how slow he was going he managed to build up to a decent speed especially considering he was carrying the weight of four men in a three person tuktuk.
Unfortunately our night went sharply downhill after this. The bouncers at the club were extremely short with us. We had travelled to the bar in two groups and I was in the second of these. The first group lined up and were allowed in almost straight away, but when my friends and I tried to enter we were barred and told we were not allowed in.
The security men wouldn’t explain why although it was obvious that the first group were let in only because there were several girls amongst them. I should mention there was not a language problem and I was eventually able to get into the club to retrieve our friends after doing some negotiating. The interior was fairly empty, adding to the mystery of our exclusion. It soon became even emptier when our entire group left the premises. Later we tried another bar with the same result and by that time the night was ruined. Unfortunately the feeling in the air was that we just weren’t welcome and this experience certainly reaffirmed stereotypes I had heard about the German character as cold and often pretty unfriendly.
Of course you can’t judge a group of people on the basis of one evening and I guess across all nationalities bouncers can be prickly. Luckily we had made a friend in Francis earlier that night who seemed as warm and friendly as could be and this offset our frustration a lot. I will give German hospitality another try sometime in the future and hope for some more experiences like that one.
The following day we continued our journey through stunning mountain scenery and across the border into the Austrian Tyrol region. Our destination was the former winter Olympic town of Innsbruck, a small city nestled beneath the snow covered Alps and a few degrees colder than Germany. We weren’t too upset with the temperature drop as it was a beautiful buzzing little place.
We wandered around the town and enjoyed some of the local delicacies including a tasty pancake type dish, served in small strips with either jam or chocolate syrup. We also tried some roast chestnuts which are sold by street vendors all over Europe. They were quite bland and tasted a little bit like sweet potato. Certainly nothing to write home about - so I’ll move on.Although the town square is usually packed with tourists to witness the chiming, Scandy downplayed it’s appeal and even did a a short re-enactment of the fifteen minute show involving some dancing, clapping and bird chirping at the end. Elsewhere in the city there were some impressive old churches and cathedrals and we spent some time at an open air market near the town centre.
That night we visited the Hofbrauhaus beerhall and consumed many a stein in the massive building packed with other revellers. The quality of the beer was great and the traditional food they served excellent. One of the specialties was pig knuckle; a tasty mountain of pork cut from the knee joint. Our enjoyment of the food and drink quickly overshadowed the scene that had greeted us on our arrival when a drunken patron was carried out by two burly security men and literally thrown out the door.
At around 10.30pm a group of us left the hall to catch some of Munich’s other nightlife. Jumping on two bicycle rickshaws my party was manfully driven by a guy called Francis who proved extremely friendly and helpful taking us to a nearby club. After some gentle heckling about how slow he was going he managed to build up to a decent speed especially considering he was carrying the weight of four men in a three person tuktuk.
Unfortunately our night went sharply downhill after this. The bouncers at the club were extremely short with us. We had travelled to the bar in two groups and I was in the second of these. The first group lined up and were allowed in almost straight away, but when my friends and I tried to enter we were barred and told we were not allowed in.
The security men wouldn’t explain why although it was obvious that the first group were let in only because there were several girls amongst them. I should mention there was not a language problem and I was eventually able to get into the club to retrieve our friends after doing some negotiating. The interior was fairly empty, adding to the mystery of our exclusion. It soon became even emptier when our entire group left the premises. Later we tried another bar with the same result and by that time the night was ruined. Unfortunately the feeling in the air was that we just weren’t welcome and this experience certainly reaffirmed stereotypes I had heard about the German character as cold and often pretty unfriendly.
Of course you can’t judge a group of people on the basis of one evening and I guess across all nationalities bouncers can be prickly. Luckily we had made a friend in Francis earlier that night who seemed as warm and friendly as could be and this offset our frustration a lot. I will give German hospitality another try sometime in the future and hope for some more experiences like that one.
The following day we continued our journey through stunning mountain scenery and across the border into the Austrian Tyrol region. Our destination was the former winter Olympic town of Innsbruck, a small city nestled beneath the snow covered Alps and a few degrees colder than Germany. We weren’t too upset with the temperature drop as it was a beautiful buzzing little place.
Overlooking the main square is the Goldenes Dachl or Golden roof, a popular Innsbruck landmark. It has survived since the 1400s when Archduke Maximilian of Austria used to address his subjects from the balcony below. On the road out of town there’s a reminder of Innsbruck’s Winter Olympic history in the form of huge ski-jump on the Bergisel hill. It’s still used for competitive skiing and snowboarding today.
After a day and night in Innsbruck our tour moved through the towering mountain scenery of the Brenner Pass into Italy and our next stop Venice. We arrived for a 1pm ferry across the lagoon to the centre of the city where no vehicles are allowed.
Almost immediately we were taken to the Grand Canal docks and a ride on one of the famous Gondolas. We divided into groups of six and boarded the traditional boats, complete with oarsmen puffing away on cigarettes and chattering to each other in Italian. We quite enjoyed the laidback demeanour of these men. They showed great balance and skill as they guided us around the quaint old buildings and bridges on the narrow canals.
An hour and countless photos later, we carefully disembarked and headed into the city centre for some sightseeing. On the way to the main tourist area Piazza San Marco there’s another attraction worth a visit called ‘The Bridge of Sighs’. Although the small limestone bridge is ornately carved I think the sentiment attached to the landmark is more impressive than the structure itself. Built in the 16th Century, the bridge connects the old prison to the interrogation room in the Doge’s (Duke’s) Palace and was the last chance for prisoners to look back on the beauty of the city before their imprisonment.
The centrepiece of St Marks Plaza is the incredible Basilica di San Marco. Acting as the Cathedral of Venice it is said to hold the relics of Saint Mark the Evangelist recovered from crusade in 828. Mosaics on the exterior of the church document the Saint’s ‘liberation’ from Alexandra and how the Venetians smuggled his remains back by boat, covering his bones with strips of pork to avoid Muslim intervention in their removal.
The church itself is one of the finest examples of Byzantine architecture in the world and the present building dates back to 1063. Even those (like myself) with little knowledge of architectural styles were struck by the grand complexity of its design. There seemed a dazzling blend of arches, columns, towers and domes decorated with colourful art works. St Marks was certainly different to anything I had seen before and it was a major highlight of Venice for me. It is easy to see why it has been nicknamed Chiesa d'Oro (The Church of Gold).
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