The weather in Munich is proving challenging.
In the land in which I was born, we have a saying: “It passed with the speed of an English summer.”
Well, this German holiday is dragging for me, since summer hasn’t really arrived. Temperatures in Munich are normally quite pleasant in August, with lots of sunshine and 25 degrees by day.
This year, unfortunately, clouds, wind and rain are ever present - all of the cotton dresses in my suitcase are proving to be most unsuitable and I’ve actually had to borrow a heavy sweater and jacket from my friend!
On this day, however, it isn’t actually raining cats and dogs, so the three of us decide to take a late afternoon stroll through the backstreets of Munich and then into English Gardens. Miriam and Moritz live close to the gardens, in the north, so we meander slowly in the direction of the greenery.
En route, I’m looking for things to photograph (as usual) and a curious ‘silver tree’ installation catches my eye, especially when juxtaposed against the grey skies and fluffy white clouds above.
I also spy a rather grand building, in a very ‘Victorian yellow’ colour - my friends tell me it’s a town hall and people like themselves who want to marry, but not through the church, can pledge their troth there.
I have to be honest - Munich’s architecture isn’t something I find particularly attractive. I don’t find it particularly appealing. Maybe it’s me being picky but I just find it too dull, too sedate, too ‘boring’ (perhaps it’s also a reflection of my wider boredom with the city itself?) But these buildings caught my eye - the ‘noughts and crosses’ structure is actually owned by Allianz, and the cottage in particular reminded me of childhood holidays in the English countryside.
We make it to the gardens, finally!
They actually stretch back over 230 years. In 1789, a local official, Karl Theodor, ordered the creation of a park, to be built close to the Isar River - the two men responsible for the design were Royal Court gardener Ludwig von Sckell and the British physicist, Sir Benjamin Thompson.
Veering away from the idea of a geometrically-designed French baroque creation, they decided to give the park a more ‘English’ feel, with a landscaped quality to it, and that’s how the name came to be, Today, it’s one of the biggest green spaces in the world within an urban setting - it’s actually bigger than Manhattan’s Central Park.
Truthfully though, it’s a bit dull for my liking - no flowers, lots of greenery but a real disappointment after London’s royal parks. Maybe I’d be enjoying it if the weather weren’t a frigid 13 degrees on a summer’s evening. The rain begins to fall lightly and all I want to do is head home for a cup of tea and a hot shower…
On the way, we wander past ‘Der Haus der Kunst’ - Munich’s famous art museum, and whilst it’s closed (and I dn’t want to enter wearing a stuffy N95 mask anyway) I can’t help but see the outside banner and I simply have to take a photo (being the curious Jew that I am).
It’s a real sight. Built by Hitler, it was once a veritable ‘propaganda building’ used to display art of which the Nazis approved (as opposed to degenerate art). Unbelievably, the banner outside that I see outside is full of Yiddish words - Yiddish being the language of many of Europe’s Jews, on the eve of the holocaust. (Later, I find out that the museum is hosting an exhibition of We went to the front entrance and I learned that there was an exhibit of Yiddish artists, hence the outside installation). Jewish culture back in Germany, I think. Goodness.
I’m cold and tired and ready to go home, but there’s one thing Miriam and Moritz insist on my seeing before we take shelter from the elements. The ‘Eisbach Wave.’
In the south of the park, at a small inlet named the Eisbach (which flows into the Isar River)they promise to show something quite astonishing. It’s an artifical wave, built for surfers to practice their skill, a long long way from the ocean.
Usually, the crowds to view the surfer dudes (and dudettes) would be five deep, my friends assure me. It’s one of Munch’s most famous tourist haunts and professionals come from across the world here, waiting patiently in line for a chance to show off their moves. Today, however, with a dearth of visitors in the city, it’s easy to grab a prime view. I have to admit, it’s quite a sight.
The temperature’s dropping though and so are my spirits. Munich, I’m sure you’re a fine city and, perhaps, if the sun shone just a little bit more I’d be less weary, but I think it’s time to bid you farewell and start planning my trip south, to Italy. I need a change of scenery, a change of cuisine and an opportunity to wear some of my cotton dresses…