The train ride from Milano to Munich was high-tension for me. When I reached the Milano train station, I could not find a train to Munich. There was one train (at the same time) but that was for Monaco. Now, I am a fan of Grace Kelly but on that day I had to reach Munich. Finally, after much discussion with a Trenitalia official (who looked like a twin of Roberto Benigni and was an animated as him), I came to the conclusion that Monaco is the Italian name for a German city called Munchen. But is Munchen Munich? The confusion arose because I remember seeing a Munich AND a Munchen on the Yahoo weather page. So they must be separate cities. Or not? This question bothered me throughout the train journey and I was too embarassed to appear like a country bumpkin to ask someone this question.
The train journey itself was spectacular. It was Italy to Austria to Germany (straight into the Germany town of Munchen, which hopefully was either Munich, or close it!). As we neared northern Italy, the train huffed and puffed into the mountains which were snowclad. From the warm confines of the train, it felt nice to enjoy the subzero-temperature'd white countryside with a fair share of hills, valleys, lakes and rivers. There was an extremely pretty woman who got on the train with me from Milano and when a group of young Germans got on in Innsbruck and started speaking loudly in German, she got quite disgusted. She turned to me and started speaking to me in Italian (assuming that I knew the language well since I had also got on at Milano). Not wanting to disappoint an attractive woman like her, I tried my best to speak in monosyllablic Italian deftly avoiding the use of the future/past tenses and the conjunctive. To my credit and to the credit of my teachers I was able to carry on this ruse with a mixture of gestures and simple present / present continous sentences! Not wanting to break her heart with the knowledge that I did not know Italian too well, I walked out after I had said all I could have said. I went to the Restaurant Car and plonked myself with an overpriced cup of coffee to enjoy the snowy countryside passing by. A group of policeman then came to me and asked me "Italiano?" ("Are you Italian?). I couldn't imagine that pretty lady sending a bunch of policeman after me for no crime other than deserting her with a boisterous bunch of German students (a crime in France, probably!). Fortunately, that was not the case. It was a routine check for documents.
It was a clear day and the sun was out. As the train snaked its way, the gentle sun would sometimes come inside the train from the left and a few minutes later from the right side. It was indeed a pleasure. As we neared the Italian-Austrian border, the signs changed from Italian-first-English-second to Italian-first-German-second and then to German-Italian. The transition from Italy to Austria was without any fuss (thanks Schengen) - the brown stone houses became white wooden ones with sloping roofs, the mountain peaks became whiter and snowier, the signs turned from blue to green, language became less rhythmic as German Umlauts and 'Z's and 'Sch's replaced 'llini's.
Finally, when I reached Munchen, the first thing I did was run to the tourist information office and confirm that the city which I was in was Munich (embarassing!). Thankfully yes. I met with my friends who had arrived from India the same day and we set about exploring the town of Munchen! One of the most interesting things we saw in Munchen was a building with the a quirky lift (elevator!). It was like a conveyer belt and worked non stop. There were no doors....as the lift (a box) approached your floor, you just hopped on (requiring some amount of motor skills and co-ordination) and when you reached the floor you wanted to go you just hopped off. If you didn't, you would find yourself moving (along this 'conveyor belt' system) from the 'down' to the 'up' part or vice-versa. Photos might do the trick where words are clearly not.
The main Platz (no more piazzas) of Munich is Marienplatz with the usual-suspects of shops and crowds. Munich, btw, is part of Bavaria and Bavarians are known for their propensity to enjoy a good meal and a good drink. The number of Beers i had is proof of that. A Bavarian man is not a true Bavarian man till he doesn't have a 'sexy' belly and a Bavarian woman is not a real Bavarian woman till she doesn't have 'logs in front of her hut'. (You know...er....think Pamela Anderson)
Another interesting place we visited was the 'Viktualienmarket'. This market had the most amazing collection of little shops selling Cheeses, Breads, Sweets of all shapes, sizes, colours, hues and prices. One can just get lost in this market moving from one shop to another sampling the delicacies being sold.
After that we did the usual touristy rounds - Nymphenberg museum, English Gardens, Deutsches Museum (will not bore you with details). We also had an Indian meal one of the evenings. The menu had an 'Ayurvedic' meal combo !!!!!!!! No thanks.
Next (and sadly, last) stop - attempt at skiing in the Austrian Alps.
Getting there was pretty circuitous - Munchen to Salzburg to Schwarzach-St.Veit to Saalfelden to Hinterthal via Maria Alm. Hinterthal was covered with snow (though were were told that it had snowed less this year). But fortunately, the days were clear and sunny throughout so that, unfortunately, there were no excuses for not skiing.
(For reasons of dignity, I will use the word 'slope' instead of 'baby-slope'!)
So early next morning, it was off to the ski-slopes of Maria Alm to try our hands (and legs) at skiing. We were made to wear extremely cumbersome ski-boots after a rigourous process where we had to tell them our height, weight etc so that the exact fit could be made. So with the boots on (and skis and sticks in hand) we made our way to the ski-slopes. Walking in those boots was most cumbersome - they weighed more than I did and they are such a fit that bending knees is next-to-impossible. So we must have made an amusing sight walking slowly on the streets of Maria Alm. Fortunately, everyone else was pretty much doing the same (On the train ride to Saalfelden, I even saw an elderly couple get on the train in their snow-boots. Straight from home to the ski slopes!).
Our instructor, Andy, was a local who had been teaching for the last 28 years. He seemed a bit peeved with my repeated question 'I won't break any bones, right?'. (The most common comment I heard before the trip "You are going skiing? Do you know how to? No? Oh God be careful it is dangerous"). By the end of my asking the same question twenty times, he wanted to pull his hair out and break my bones! But he didn't thinking that skiing might actually do the trick.
We were made to do a few simple exercises (to get a sense of balance) and then were taught how to move sideways (so that we learnt to go uphill). I never did get the hang of moving uphill. Thank God for the ski-escalator! Coming downhill was not as difficult as it seemed and we managed to do it without breaking anything. My only problem was that I would always end up going towards the exit (though fortunately, I had learnt how to stop otherwise I might have found myself on the road or in some valley. I could imagine myself with my head in the snow and ski-clad feet sticking out).
I did avoid that but I found myself in a pickly (understatement) situation when on one of the sorties (sounds cool, no?) my left leg decided to go to the left side and the right leg decided to go in the other direction. It was ok upto a point (thanks Yoga) but beyond that....I will not go into details...except that IT HURT. And all the kids were laughing.
Kids? Oh I forgot to tell you. Where we were learning to ski was where the kids (3-4 years only) were learning to ski. So I single-handedly multiplied the average age by more than 10. But with all the peels of laughter and the wide-eyed looks reserved for me, it was, in retrospect, fun ! The 360-degree spectacular view helped! For Apres-Ski I ordered a chicken dish which turned out to be made of turkey. I gulped it down with Beer (ah! multipurpose beer!).
Sadly, the alpine adventure came to an end sooner than I wanted it to and I found myself on an even more cumbersome trip back home - Hinterthal-Saalfelden- Schwarzach St. Veit-Salzburg-Munich-MunichAirport-LondonStansted-London-Edinburgh.
Missing Italy
a. I must confess that I missed hearing the rhythmic Italian in Munich. I would jump up with joy whenever I would hear Italian being spoken by a group of Italians. I would go near them and try to make sense of the snatches of their conversations.
b. Near the Residenz (sp?) in Munich there is a covered hall that is an identical copy of the 'Loggia Della Signoria' (In Florence! I knew you guys were not reading my mails). I was ecstatic when I saw it.
c. There is an identical statue of Juliet (as in Verona) in Munich and I did the needful. Still no luck, btw.
(Jan, 2007)
