Not Prague, Part 6: Munich

For the final stop of my post-CELTA European jaunt, I made my first repeat visit to a European city. Five years previous, I visited Munich for the 2006 World Cup, a trip that included a memorable but bittersweet stop here. (Side note: Ghana, the bane of our national men's team's existence ... who knew?)

So when I stopped by for a six-hour layover between Florence and Prague, I figured there would be a certain comfort level from the start. Indeed, gazing at the Old Town Hall and the towers of the Frauenkirche brought back memories of a plaza teeming with Brazilian and Australian supporters, including the Brazilian fan at a restaurant who wanted us to sing about how the Aussies having sex with donkeys or chickens or something (and the Aussie fans singing "Five World Cups and you're still third world" to the tune of "Camptown Races"). I ate a tummy-busting breakfast (bread, eggs, meat, cheese, fruit, coffee, the sweetest and best orange juice I've ever tasted) in a restaurant overlooking the plaza. From there, I was off to the English Garden and Ludwigstrasse before returning to the Marienplatz for the traditional Bavarian lunch of white sausage, a soft pretzel and beer.

Theatinkirche, as seen from Field Marshall's Hall at the start of Ludwigstrasse.

I was very proud of myself, strolling around a city I love and knowing that my experience there would prevent me from committing any cultural brain locks. That's what I was thinking as I enjoyed my lunch, at least until a very friendly German approached me, pointed at the sausage links, and politely informed me that I should cut the skin off before eating it.

The good news is, the mistake didn't kill me, at least not yet, which has enabled me to share my Return to Munich photo album.

And that does it for the post-CELTA tour. Up next, my hugely enjoyable stop before the CELTA course, the thriving city that won't stop reinventing itself: Berlin.