Munich

After being up so late, the kids slept until an unheard of 8:30, and then we lazed around our little house,  playing with Legos and slowly packing, just barely making the 10:00 check-out. We had an equally slow breakfast, taking our time and letting the kids run out on the adjacent tricycle pit when they finished their eggs and chocolate-smeared baguettes.


The high ropes course looked every bit as impressive in broad daylight, and both Ella and Dennis grumbled about it being closed in daytime hours. Dennis, because he wanted to ride the zip line across the lake a couple of dozen times (this being the first zip line in Europe that we've ridden on which our butts don't drag in the dust).  Ella, because she couldn't fly, otherwise. A frustrating state for a would-be fairy.

There was other fun to be had at the hotel, though: we played 12 holes of mini golf on the hotel course, which has to be the cutest I've ever seen.  Joey won: after every hole, after batting at the ball about twenty times to get it from the tee to the hole, he would cry "I got a point!" So we entered "1" for him each and every time.

Alex's column was a line of happy-go-lucky 7s and 6s.  Ella, meanwhile, was outraged that she was losing to the grownups, but we hobbled the competitive beast by telling her, since we were four times her age, she could have as many do-overs as she wanted.  She ran off, around the course, bettering and bettering her score, contented as could be. So she came in second, to Joey.









Finally it was time leave. Ella's been starved the last couple of days for reading material: she long ago read and reread all of the Scholastics series I'd stocked up on before we moved here, as well as the 50-some-book series that her Uncle Andy gifted her.


Somehow, magically, there was a single Donald Duck comic book compilation in English for sale at the rest stop between Constanz and Günzburg, and Ella, over the last couple of days, has read through that three times. But I'd realized that (gasp!) she'd never read Heidi, so today I handed her the book her Aunt Stephanie gave her, and that kept my bookworm happy for the morning's drive.

On the way in to Munich: I hear some good soccer matches happen here

The hotel we're staying at tonight was supposed to be about twenty minutes south of Munich, so we decided to stop in the city this afternoon before checking in for the night, particularly to have one last meal at the Hofbräuhaus.  The restaurant was considerably more crowded than it was the last time we were in town, and at the odd hour of 2:00 PM on a weekday.  Personally, I suspect it's because of an influx of tourists, looking to celebrate Oktoberfest, not realizing that the festival happens in September.

Of the three, Joey was the most enthusiastic
about the meal

How to keep kids busy in a beer hall

It didn't matter: we found a table after a few circuits around the restaurant, and Dennis had one more pig knuckle, and I, one more plate of spätzle, seriously considering investing in a spätzle-maker as I chewed. The kids colored and did puzzles and only complained a handful of times about the intense noise of college kids pounding on the tables and hollering and singing. So I'll consider the meal a success.

Ella's peripatetic school
of cosmic philosophy

Dennis and I tempered our beer with coffee after lunch, and then we set out for a walk to the Englisher  Garten, which we'd set out to visit, but somehow failed, twelve years ago.  In particular, there's a little river that runs through the long city park, and in one part of the river there's a standing wave, about a meter high. Since Munich is hundreds and hundreds of kilometers from the closest surfable beach, the young, crazy Germans go there to surf.


It took us some walking around the park before we finally found the right spot.  Joey had long since fallen asleep in his stroller, but Ella and Alex spent the walk discussing the possibility of life on other planets. (Ella assured Alex that it was a certainty, and to believe that we were alone in this universe was unthinkable, and then speculated on the different levels of intelligence that aliens might have. Our girl.)  

We slowed down when we got to the park, Alex cozying up for a snack break, and Ella noticing a fun German tradition.

Dennis explained to Ella that, in Berlin, there's a particular bridge that is covered with thousands of little engraved locks.  Sweethearts carve their names on these locks, fasten them to the bridge, and then toss the key into the water, as a way of proclaiming their love.  It's an adorable tradition, and it seems to have migrated south.

Finally we found that wave, and we were delighted to find that the surfers (and spectators) were out in full force.  The kids laughed and laughed, watching the kids swish around in the water: as soon as one went under, the next took his place.

The road less traveled

Unfortunately, we timed our departure from Munich just right to hit rush hour.  Even more unfortunately, Googe Maps messed with us again, giving us a completely nonsensical route that took us on narrow paths that disappeared into deep woods and across sparse farmland.  It was dark and about two hours after our departure from Munich that we finally found our hotel.

It's a lovely guest house, though: we're in a place that reminds me completely of my Grandma  and Grandpa Miskoe's house. Mostly, I think, because of the pecan-colored furniture, but also because everything is beautifully cared for, but about fifty years old.

Since it's out of the way, it's the least expensive place we've stayed this week, but it's huge, more of an apartment than guest room. And it's complete with a little kitchen, so Dennis went out in search of groceries for our again-hungry kids.








After he left, I remembered that, for some reason, our Legoland hotel had given us free boxes of spinach and zucchini-impregnated noodles. (Barilla is one of the park's sponsors.)  All three kids were wary of the green noodles, but it turned out they loved them, so they curled up to have a late pasta supper, with a side of Donald Duck cartoons before calling it a good night.