Munich, Germany 2019

I have no desire to go to New Orleans during Mardis Gras, Rio during Carnival, or Chicago during Lollapalooza. Sure as shit, I will never visit Munich during Oktoberfest. Why? Because it’s a beautiful city and why would I want to have it ruined by packs of drunken assholes in lederhosen?

I got some history with Munich. The first trip I took to Europe was to perform at a literature/theatre festival in honor of the playwright Bertol Brecht. It was myself and a group of poets I had been collaborating with. We flew into Munich and were immediately whisked away by van to Augsburg, about an hour west of Munich.

The festival was 3 days long and we tacked on an extra day at the end to perform in Munich proper. I fully admit that I was a terrible traveler at the time. We weren’t performing until the 3^rd night and I could have easily taken a day trip by train to Munich but I was too nervous. I was horrified at the thought of not being able to communicate and I was convinced my passport would be jacked by a slick haired pick-pocket.

So I stayed in Augsburg, which isn’t horrible. That’s not fair. Augsburg is quite lovely and I’d write a more detailed post about that experience if it wasn’t 10 years ago and I had actually written anything down. The festival was fun and I met a bunch of German poets who I am friends with to this day. We stayed out late, woke up early, fist fought with jet lag so when we finally reached Munich it was nothing but a fever dream.

The not romantic train ride from Augsburg to Munich got us in by early afternoon. After checking into our hotel we gathered in the lobby to decide what to do with the 3 free hours we had before the show. Every inch of my body was screaming, “TAKE A NAP, SHITHEAD!” but we were leaving early in the a.m. so this was my only chance to see Munich.

A map was consulted. My buddy Joel was appointed tour guide because he had been here before and he had a great method of communicating with German speakers. Instead of asking, “Sprechen Sie Englisch?” like a normal person, Joel adopts an accent of no nation and slowly speaks English. Instead of asking, “Do you know where the train station is located?” Joel will say something like, “Doooayooou knooooowwwwah verre da staaaaaaaaaashun for truhaaaaiiiiiins is?”

Marienplatz

With the tight timeframe, Joel took us to the Marienplatz, the most famous tourist spot in all of Munich. We saw the glockenspiel, we ate some ice cream, I took pictures of the massive testicles on a lion statue, and that was it.

Those were simpler times.

Now I was going back with more free time and years of travel experience. And I watched the Rick Steves Munich special. I was feeling confident.

Arrival

The Munich airport is not close to anything. If you want to get to the city center, you’re looking at a 40-60 minute taxi ride that will run you around 70 Euro. If you’re broke like me, you take the S-Bahn train. It costs 11.20 Euro and will get you into the city in 38 minutes.

Here’s something about local trains in Germany: they don’t check your tickets getting on. There are no turnstiles, no gates, you just walk on. You will be tempted to never buy a train ticket. I have ridden many trains without ever buying a ticket. Even when I have bought a ticket, I’ve never been checked. I do not recommend this method. If you get caught, you’re getting a hefty fine. The trains are fast, reliable and relatively cheap. Go to a machine and do your best to figure it out.

Those are the most common options. However, from this point forward you can refer to me as Mr. Fancy Pants because I was getting picked up from the airport by a driver. Yes, dear reader, I was going to be one of those people with their name printed on card stock in an elegant yet readable font. That card would be held by a tall, German man in a black Italian suit wearing gloves made of the finest leather and lined with the wool of virgin sheep. He would open the back door of his Mercedes Benz and I would be greeted by the aroma of the new-car smell mixed with almonds he roasted himself over an artisanal grill.

That was the dream. Here was the reality:

I did have a driver waiting for me. He was wearing a wrinkled track jacket and he rocked a comb over that would make Trump jealous. His printer must have run out of ink because my name was scrawled across a piece of loose leaf paper. Also, instead of “Mr. Stafford” or “Tim Stafford” it said simply “Mr. Timothy” scrawled in handwriting similar to the kind you’d find splattered on the wall at a Manson family crime scene. It creeped me out to my core but a free ride is a free ride so let’s roll.

If you arrive to Munich by rail, you’ll already be close to the city center. It’s not the most epic train station in Europe but I think arriving into a new city via train is the best. You’re already close to the action, you don’t have to deal with airport bullshit, and they usually have tasty snacks readily available. There’s always a little bit of riff-raff hanging around but be smart about it and you’ll be fine.

Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn

I stayed at the Living Hotel near the Deutsches Museum in the Haidhausen neighborhood, about 1.2 miles from the city center. Living Hotel is a chain in Germany and Austria. It’s not the fanciest hotel but it’s clean, serves a banging breakfast, and only costs $99 a night.

I broke a big rule on this trip. As soon as I got to my room, I knocked out for a couple hours. Usually I’ll drop off my bags, take a shower and get moving in order to get acclimated. I would’ve done that but I had to sit in the middle seat on the flight over. The only way I can sleep on a plane is against the window. Instead of sleeping I watched 3 mediocre movies, ate a surprisingly good caramel brownie, and listened to the British couple next to me discuss the merit of “Bohemian Rhapsody”.

Taking a nap isn’t the best move but it was necessary. I didn’t over do it. I knocked out for 2 hours and even though my body was begging me to stay down, I persevered.

The Haidhausen neighborhood borders the Old Town/City Center. My hotel was close to the Isar River which acts as the dividing line. A short walk down a hill and I was crossing the river via Cornelius Bridge. If the weather was nicer, I would have gone down and hung out on the riverbank, maybe try to play with someone’s dog. 

I did a little homework before my trip. I found a local skate shop called Shrn. This spot is skater owned and operated. It’s narrow, with odd nooks and crannies packed with decks and soft goods. Most importantly, they had their own shirts. I bought a shirt that was a play on the old Menace Skateboards star logo. And then the sign of a great shop, they stuffed my bag with free stickers.

Hunger set in as I headed towards the Marienplatz. I had been there before but I never approached from this direction. I’m glad I did because this allowed me to bump into the Viktualienmarkt, a 200 year-old market with food stalls and small shops. It’s the old school cobblestone stuff that tickles my fancy. Munich is not just bratwurst and other tubed meat. It’s a major, international city with restaurants serving all types of cuisine. That being said, I had a bratwurst and cola for dinner and felt no shame.

Walking while licking my fingers clean of rogue mustard, I reached the Marienplatz. You know the spot even if you don’t think you do. Do a Google Image search of Munich and you will be inundated with pictures of it. It’s a public square dominated by the city hall which contains the glockenspiel. There’s also a random dragon statue crawling up the side of it for some reason.

Respect

The only tourist site open was the T.J. Maxx aka T.K. Maxx department store. With its many levels, gold accents, and globe-like light fixtures, this was by far the fanciest proprietor of discounted designer goods I have ever had the privilege of visiting. I was tempted to buy the Derrick Rose era Bulls basketball but it would take up too much real estate in my baggage.

I got as far as the old city gates. Just beyond was the Filmtheater Sendlinger Tor, a movie theatre famous for painting their own movie posters. Though it was the perfect night for a movie, they were showing “Green Book” so I headed back to the hotel.

It was cold and what had been a light drizzle was turning into a steady rain. Luckily I had recently bought a long coat for adults as opposed to the denim jacket/hoodie combo I adore so much. My torso was fine but head and shoes were soaked. This brings me to Travel Tip 459: check the closet of your hotel for an umbrella before you leave because I didn’t and sure as shit, there was one sitting there when I got back.

Sendlinger Theatre

Did you enjoy that lonely, romantic description of my first night in Munich? Can you hear my footsteps echoing down the cobblestone corridors? Can you smell the brown mustard on my breath? Are you wondering how the rest of my days went? The rest was busy. I was performing with my dude Dan “Sully” Sullivan. We were in and out of the city every night to get to various venues to perform. You don’t wanna hear about the train ride to Landsburg or waiting around backstage in Ulm. Instead I shall now break with the narrative and get down to the nitty gritty of what I saw, where I went, and what was cool about Munich

Museums

I dragged Sully to the Residenz is the former royal palace of the Bavarian monarchs. It costs 7 Euro to get into the museum and another 7 Euro to go to the Treasury or 13 Euro for both, We opted for just the museum.

Residenz

It’s a massive structure split up into many parts which means its super easy to get lost in. It is a confusing layout and its easy to miss things unless you spend 5 hours wandering. If you go, you should see the Antiquarium. It’s a Renaissance Hall, elaborately decorated with paintings on the ceilings, busts of past rulers and a little balcony to frame up Instagram quality shots.

I am not into palaces. I’m not into collections of jewels, plates, glassware, or hand-carved furniture which this building has in abundance. But what I am into are bones.

There is a section of the Residenz called “Reliquiensammlung” aka the Reliquary. It’s a small room that is more of a vault complete with a heavy steel door to walk through. If you are not looking for it, you could very easily miss it. Inside this room are relics that are supposed to belong to saints. Unfortunately for Duke Wilhelm V who started the collection, most of the relics belonged to “catacomb saints”. That means that dudes in the Catholic Church would go into catacombs, break off the finger bone of some rando and sell it to an aristocrat who thinks it belonged to Matthew, Mark, Luke or John. It’s like when that kid you went to high school with sold oregano to the class president and told him it was weed. He doesn’t know any better and now the fake dealer can go buy real weed for himself. It’s a win-win.

John's dome

That being said, there are some cool/creepy AF items whether you are a believer or not. There are enshrined splinters of wood supposedly from the cross that Jesus was crucified on. When I showed a pic of one to my very Catholic mother she said, “If you took all the wood that’s supposed to be from the cross you’d have a forest.” That’s what the Catholics call a sick ass burn.

There are fingers, entire hands, and femurs displayed in elaborate containers. What I came for was a skull. Resting on a pillow, encrusted with pearls and precious stones is the skull of John the Baptist. John was the cousin of Jesus and he was decapitated when a dancer asked King Herod to serve his head on a silver platter. Sometimes you go to a strip club and drop your paycheck. Sometimes you decapitate people. We do strange things for love. Alas, this probably isn’t his skull. There are a total of 4 skulls claiming to belong to John the Baptist and this one has the most dubious provenance.

We’ve Got to Pray Just to Make it Today

Visiting churches in old cities is a great thing to do because they are usually architecturally impressive, contain some important art works, and they usually contain some bizarro shit. Munich does not disappoint.

The first church we visited was the iconic Munich Cathedral. It’s a gothic style church with two towers capped off by domes. Google Munich again and you see the other building besides the Marienplatz? That’s the Munich Cathedral.

You can go into the basement and see the royal crypt filled with the tombs of princes. You can marvel at the high ceilings and Renaissance paintings. You can also see the mark of the devil. I don’t know what it is about the Devil and German churches, but the devil really comes off like a gullible prick. The story with the Munich Cathedral varies, but my favorite one is that the architect goes to the Devil for money to build the church because Jesus ain’t got the cash I guess. The Devil says sure, but the church has to be a monument to darkness because he’s metal as fuck. Therefore, he insists it be built without windows.  Homie builds the cathedral and invites the Devil to check it out. The Devil walks in and is like, “This is dope” because he sees no windows. He takes a step further and then BAM all the windows come into sight from behind the columns. The Devil gets pissed, stamps his foot into the tile and leaves. I dunno. I’m not trying to get all Impractical Jokers on the Devil but it’s a fun story.

The tile is still there though folks have said it’s changed. You can step in it if you want but real or not, I don’t need that bad juju in my life.

Asam Church

Question: Do you like going to church and also taking hallucinogens? Then have I got the place for you! I was not seeking out the Asam Church. I was in the shopping district probably trying to see if they had a German version of a Ross Dress For Less. I saw two large wooden doors, one slightly ajar and assumed it was an invitation. If I was on the other side of the street, I would’ve seen the façade sticking up higher than the buildings it was attached to.

I had entered the Asam Church. It’s a Baroque masterpiece built by two brothers who wanted to build their own personal church because that’s how you achieved baller status in the 1700’s. It’s fucking bonkers. Every surface is decorated with gold or sculpture. The pillars look like cyclones. The ceiling is decorated with frescoes. Like I said, it’s fucking bonkers. It’s very small for a church which makes the elaborate décor even more overwhelming.

The church was only kind of open. I was able to hang out in the lobby and gawk at the interior from behind a steel gate that was imposing but still allowed for that Instagram shot.

Kunst

I like me an art museum. Munich has many and I chose this one for 2 reasons: proximity and they had a Basquiat painting on the advertisement I saw. The admission is 16 Euro and make sure you have some coins to pay for a locker to put your bag in. You’ll get the money back when you leave.

 

"Slave Auction" Basquiat

The modern art exhibit was top notch. The Basquiat painting was called “Slave Auction” and it is a stunner. I have not seen many of his paintings in person but this one was large and powerful. I walked from exhibit to exhibit, pausing on the balcony that overlooks the main hall to admire a large installation piece.

After touring the museum I popped into the gift shop. I was not aware of the museum’s history so I leafed through a photography book about the museum. It was printed in German so I couldn’t understand the text but I could see what was happening in the pictures. This was a Nazi building. This was the first Nazi building designed specifically to Nazi specifications. I froze on a picture that showed a gigantic swastika banner draped from the exact spot on the balcony I was standing on moments before. It’s fucked up but Germany has done a decent job of facing up to the atrocities of the Nazis. So good of a job that sometimes it creeps up on you.

Resistance

Thoroughly bummed out by the Nazi imagery, I decided to take a look at something badass and very anti-Nazi. Down the street from my hotel is a marker for George Elsner, a German who tried to assassinate Hitler in 1939. The marker is at the spot where he planted a bomb timed to go off during Hitler’s speech at a beer hall. Unfortunately for the world, Hitler ended his speech early. The bomb still went off and killed 8 people but Hitler wasn’t even around to hear it. Elsner was caught, thrown in jail for 5 years before finally being executed in the Dachau Concentration Camp.

Across the street from the Residenz is another easily missed memorial. Hitler had installed a memorial to the Nazis killed in the Beer Hall Putsch. It was considered a sacred site and you were expected to give the Nazi salute when you walked past. Citizens who thought the Nazis were fucked would avoid the site altogether by dipping down an alley called the Viscardigasse or “shirker’s alley”. Amongst the cobblestone is a strip of bronzed ones marking the path. It reminded me of the “Stumble Stones”, which Munich does not have.

The final resistance marker I saw was in honor of the Weiße Rose, a student group that resisted the Nazi government. They created leaflets that were very anti-Nazi which landed them on the Gestapo’s radar. On February 18, 1943, members of the group were arrested handing out leaflets at their University when they were arrested and ultimately beheaded after 4 days of intense interrogation.

Embedded into the cobblestone of the square where they were arrested are bronzed copies of the leaflets they produced. They look as if they were scattered about again, they are easy to walk right past.

Fancy Men Eat Fancy Things

I got to spend most of this trip with Dan Sully, the other half of my poetry duo “Death From Below”. Sully is thankfully a low maintenance travel partner. We performed well, we got along, we made new friends, and we felt like we deserved to be rewarded.

We are not fancy men prone to fanciful things. Sully likes jewelry but the kind made of crystals, not gold. I thought about leaving that description out because it makes him sound like a wizard but I stand by what I wrote.

So how do two men on the wrong side of 35 choose to celebrate a job well done? They celebrate with fancy cakes. Our last full day was spent fulfilling souvenir requests from family and students. On that mission we walked past a pastry shop called Maelu. It had a multitude of tiny, beautiful, delicate cakes on display. Neither of us said a word. We were pulled toward the sidewalk side display case like a tractor beam.

We spotted the cake we desired and were ushered to a second floor dining area that overlooked the street. We ordered our chocolate mousse cake and espressos. The cake was covered in ganache so shiny I could see my gluttonous reflection in it. To top it off, there was some edible gold flake sprinkled on top of that fucker to let everyone else know we did not come here to fuck around.

The Poetry

I would be remiss if I didn’t elaborate on the main reason why I was in Munich in the first place. Munich is home to the oldest poetry slam in Germany. That is a big deal because poetry slam in Germany is a big deal. No one believes me but its true. I’m talking sold out theaters, events in stadiums, etc. But it started in Munich and my friend Ko started it.

Ko hosting at Substanz

We were performing at the 23^rd Anniversary of the Substanz Slam. I’ve performed there twice and each time the line to get in is down the street. These people pay money to stand and watch a poetry slam for close to 3 hours. It’s a boisterous spot and one of my favorite places to perform but the best part is the green room.

The green room is really just a concrete room in the basement next to the bathrooms. Most of the people who have performed there sign the wall with a magic marker. I had fun finding the names of poet friends who performed there in the past but Ko pointed out something special. Towards the ceiling, next to a rack full of random bar equipment is an autograph that was supposedly left by singer-songwriter Jeff Buckley. It’s one of those things that I want so badly to be true that I didn’t bother trying to compare it to his other autographs online.

 

Jeff Buckley Autograph?

If standing around for 3 hours doesn’t tickle your fancy, go check out the Lryik Kabinett. It’s across the street from the University, a couple blocks west of the English Gardens. It’s a poetry library that hosts plenty of readings. It’s set back in a courtyard. Just look for the open gangway with a stone that says “POESIE” on it. Walk through and then follow the path of lights embedded in the ground.

Would I Go Back?

Technically, I’ve been to Munich 3 times. I would love to go back again but the best time would be Spring or Summer. I do love me a Christmas Market and the Alps are cool but Spring is more fun. The city is walkable, there are a ton of parks, and people are hanging out outside like their lives depended on it.

If you had a week, go to Munich and take a couple day trips. You don’t have to stay in the city center but I do recommend staying close to a U-Bahn or S-Bahn station. You’ll never be too far from anything.

I’m not the picnic type but that is exactly what I would do in the summer. I’d grab some cured meat, some cheese, a bottle of Schwip-Schwap and go to the English Garden to watch some dudes surf on the river because that’s something that happens there.

Avoid

Oktoberfest unless you like spending a ton of money on a trip you’ll never remember.