Today’s Quote: “Like…seriously.” –I swear to Sky Father the customs man truly said that to me after I told him my reason for travel was to come to Starkbierfest.
Guys…wow…. Yep…wow seems to say it best.
The trip to Bavaria was all I seemed to talk about for all of March, so when it finally came to happen I was sorta surprised that it was really happening. I had not stayed exclusively in a country for 2 years in nearly ten, so as my alarm awoke me at the UB guesthouse at the lovely hour at 4:30 in the fracking morning I took a quick cold shower and then stashed my computer away at the guesthouse. A friend of the owner seems to have quite the racket job of being on call to take gringos back and forth to the airport. Actually a bus goes there too, but no buses run at that hour and it just made sense. So 15000 tugriks later (still cheap as taking the NY subway to JFK…but dammit still!) I found myself at the ass crack of dawn looking at the Chinngis Khan airport.
I know Mongolia is a little out of the way, but this airport is still a tad dinky. Seriously airports in a city like say Greensboro, North Carolina are bigger than this place is.
But, for me the process was pretty straightforward, no messy China or Russian visa requirements so it all just went along smoothly. They padded me down, asked where I was going, and before I knew it I was sitting next to a Fulbright scholar taking a trip to Russia. We PCV’s have a knack for bumping into Fulbright scholars, a sort of mobile Peace Corps volunteer if you ask me! Seriously I asked about all he did was talk about doing everything I already do, but he gets to do it traveling around. Not bad…too bad my grades and SAT’s weren’t nearly high enough to even consider such a thing.
A few hours later im on an airplane.
Hadn’t done that in a while, and on the Russian Airline plane all the Stewardesses were Russian women. Not one of them spoke a word of Mongolian, and over half the plan is Mongolians! Well thought out! Luckily a good portion of the Mongolian passengers could speak Russian or English, but on this flight I was seated directly next to two VERY countryside Mongolians who did not have a word of any foreign tongue. Yea, good luck with that!The plane was an international plane, but as I’ve usually traveled the America-Europe route I forgot some international planes still do not have TV’s even for coach loungers. Now granted, I had my own seat and was offered food and drinks during the flight I would say it trumped any trip I usually take in Mongolia, but yea, the next six hours to Moscow were pretty damn boring.
We were racing with the time zones so it meant that we took off at 8 and arrived in Moscow at about 10…pretty cool. During the meal portion of the flight when the Mongolian couple sitting next to me demonstrated that they couldn’t speak Russian or English…well lets say I found myself out of Mongolia and for probably the only applicable time in my life I was going to make use of my knowledge of Mongolian. And with complete formality I assisted them in picking beef over fish (naturally) and a cup of tea instead of coffee (again naturally) and the Russian stewardess woman who…she was the first natural blonde I had seen in years and it was not just blonde as in light but as in pitch dark cabin and I could find this woman who was also very nice on the eyes. She asks me afterwords in English “You speak Mongolian?!” very incredulously like, as in she had seen a blue moon. I was both flattered and nervous in front of a beautiful woman who I was impressing so quickly my brain stumbled through every affirmative I knew in giggle style before getting to one that works, really rapid fire too… “teem,si,oui,ja,da..da,YES!” The beautiful woman gave me a private happy grin smile and moved along. Why the hell did that moment make me so happy?
So the plane lands, and I have 40 minutes to beat through customs and to reach my next terminal. I did it but with only minutes to spare, lucky me. The size of Moscow's airport astounded me. Seriously its made of over 7 terminals, any one of which could swallow the entire Chinggis Khan airport with room for runways to spare! Even more astounding was how this was only one of three main airports Moscow has. It was bright and colorful and for the first time in forever Caucasians outnumbered Asians. People were taller than me, a customs woman official was taller than me!!! Its amazing what two years can do to someone.
The flight between Moscow and Munich was shorter, but sure felt longer. The view helped though. I watched between Moscow and Munich how the weather changed. Ground of white became ground of brown, slowly moving into yellow and then as we came in for a landing the rolling plains of Bavaria were in view. It had been over two years, but back I was in Munich Airport.
I know that Airport better than Dulles by now, and I just blasted right through. My first stop at an ATM and a deep breath later gratefully showed me that the card did not think it was stolen and out popped the Euro, one of my favorite currencies. It also meant that for the first time in two years I would be using coins once again too. That would take a little practice.
Its strange the things you remember and the things you forget. Here’s something I remember the moment the S-Bahn line pulled up to Munich Airport. I stepped on, sat down, and waited for the familiar sound “Nacht Halt: Stuberstausse” The woman’s voice telling me what the next stop is. That woman’s voice they use sounds shockingly like what the voice of a computer would be like if it were married to HAL from 2001. So yea, that for some reason is hardwired into my head. But things id known for a lifetime seemed to had slipped by. When walking between the main train station and the entrance to the old city called Karlzplatz I swear to Sky Father you pass all these things: A McDonalds, a Starbucks, a KFC, A Pizza Hut…and another McDonalds (they serve McBeer) McDonalds was somewhere vaguely memorable, but I seriously couldn’t remember any of these other franchises existed. I mean when I saw them the wave of old TV commercials came back into memory but seriously when I first just looked at them my mind was a complete and total blank. Spooky.
So….its 8 or so hours time zone difference between Mongolia and Germany, and I hadn’t slept once on the plane. Just cant do it…believe me i've tried. We had taken off from Mongolia at 8 in the morning…and reached Germany by 12pm. Ive had plenty of jet lag in my life, but this one took the cake. Seriously I couldn’t tell which way was up or down. Luckily as I have Munich hardwired and I was only there for a day before I left for Austria my day was just spent going to the Virtualmarkt in central Munich and having a beer. While walking through the market the first thing I realized was that I was smelling food. I hadn’t done that really in Mongolia. I don’t have a strong sense of smell and I never really noticed it before but on that day I could smell everything…and EVERYTHING smelled amazing.
In the market fresh water fountains poured out drinkable water, something I was most unaccustomed to as well. I felt afraid to touch the stuff out of sheer uniqueness! The beer being sold this week was Hofbrau, not my favorite so I got a half liter. That and a quarter kilo of strawberries. Everyone in America thinks Germans eat nothing but sausage. Now trust me, Germans are indeed REALLY good at sausages and the like, but their best kept secret is their amazing produce as well. And strawberries…I mean common, what better fruit to get reacquainted with right?
So it was me, a beer, strawberries, a bunch of tall happy friendly people sitting under chestnut trees in the spring which had just begun to sprout their leaves for the upcoming summer. Sky father take me now!
…No wait, first let me go to Austria. That night I fell asleep at 7pm after forcing myself to stay awake, but this was not nearly late enough, and sure enough at 4 in the morning I awoke. Tired still but unable to sleep further. I gave myself a good hot water shower, bought the hostel breakfast, and realized that while I had 3 hours until my train left, I had little else to do so I just went to the station. The central train station of Munich is colossal. Seriously this thing is a titan among titans, as well it needs to be too, lot going on. All I can imagine is some octopus with a human brain pulling all the switches getting all the trains in and out of that place.
After some book reading, jet lag loathing and boring waiting the train arrived and we headed out to Vienna, Austria.
In all my European travels I had never been to Vienna. Rather funny actually as I was raised in Vienna, Virginia. I had reservations about the price of the ticket, but my American mother had wisely advised “Oh shut up and fork out the dough you whiner” (im paraphrasing) The train went well, and when I arrived in Austria, well I had a different kind of culture shock. Now not only was it a new culture but one I hadn’t encountered before. Similar to something I know but at the same time somewhat different. It didn’t feel bad, just…weird is all.
I stayed at a hostel next to the Naschmarket, sort of southwest of the center of Vienna. The market itself rocks, its an endless number of cafes and vendors. Vienna is quite a bit more East than Munich, and the types of foods for sale differed. Instead of fruits and wursts and pickles the big seller was….olives. Oh….goood….GODS!!!! I LOVE OLIVES. I love all the kinds in the world and their wonderful saltiness within. Next to the olives sat pita breads and falafel bits for sale. (Heart beat……RISING) I mean what could you possibly do to top this. And then I thought how they sold the falafel individually and didn’t wrap it in the bread so why on earth do you sell pita?....no…. no don’t tease me… this is too much. And at the end of the display case, after years of either not having it or ready mix stuff that just doesn’t do the same thing to me…. As I looked at six bins of this creamy, greasy, wonderfully mashed up bean I realized that there truly must be a Sky Father and Earth Mother after all….HUMMUS!!!!!!!
...Okay Sky Father….NOW you can take me.
…No wait, let me get some wine too. Another good secret about Germany and Austria is the availability of wines they have. Really good, REALLY cheap wines. Especially the white wines which I secretly enjoy a little more than their red counterparts. At the cafes in the market your welcome to just buy from the vendors and park yourself down and eat as long as you buy their wine. (Oh dear right???)
So there I sat eating hummus, olives, whole wheat pita, and drinking white wine in a market of busy vendors on a beautiful warm spring day. Sky father….
…no wait, lets see the rest of the city first. Vienna looks a little different than Munich. About 90% of Munich was razed to the ground during WWII. Vienna got bombed too, but some of the old stuffed survived. The subway stations of Vienna are not remakes of old stuff (ie: looks classical but actually brand new) no some of the old stuff in this city is actually the old stuff for real. It made the city seem a little more, unique. Like an antique of some kind. The architecture though is somewhat similar to the German comparisons. Nice churches, beautiful opera house, there's even a disgusting open park that all the 20 somethings go to in front of a church to drink their night away (I took a picture of the aftermath) The beer of Austria did not impress me all that much btw. Not bad, but i've definitely had better.
On my second day in Austria (tragically also my last) I was going to meet up at a couchsurfer meeting. The couchsurfers is something I only learned about about a month ago, but now that I have had the pleasure I cant believe I was not on this website 5 years ago. Its truly what it sounds like. People living in different parts of the world offering up a spare bed, couch or even a floor to anyone traveling through. You also use it to meet up with someone who knows about a city more than you do. For Vienna, there was going to be a couchsurfing party at some location and I was going to meet a fellow couchsurfer who lived in Vienna to walk around that evening and then make our way over to the party. Helpful, given that I didn’t know exactly where the party was. We met at the old church in the center of town. Much like at the church of our lady a model of the church was built next to it so the blind could know what the church looked like. I met Eli and off we went. She actually helped me find the café where Freud used to play chess! She rocked, seemed very nice and well mannered, and even made me eat my first ice cream in forever! We walked along the river edge, yammering about things like what we do and what life is like in Mongolia and Austria. Different people, different worlds, not all that different at all: It’s a theme I have been encountering a lot of late.
The party was in a military vehicle depot. Seriously, this was one of those depots built during the cold war to house jeeps and vans and such for World War III. 25 years ago it housed a van to transport artillery rounds, now it houses couchsurfer parties. That really makes me think about what the world will look like in another 25 years… The party was…AWESOME! It was like being at a disco but not being required to dance. I sat at a table, was surrounded by English speaking couchsurfers all with fascinating things to talk about. We did so, drank a lot, and all around had a good time.
I was still not over my jet lag at this point so by 1am I needed to get back to the hostel so I wouldn’t miss my train in the morning.
Is it just me or does the Vienna subway look like a bottle of ketchup and mustard got into a fight?
It all went well luckily, and the next morning I got back on a train and was back in Munich….for a day, for the following day I was heading to Nuremberg. For that day in Munich, still exhausted from jet lag, drinking and the constant moving around I headed to the English garden and just literally collapsed onto the grass. Spending the whole day just looking up at the sun. It’s the first time that I realized that the clouds….were very far away. Seriously I had been in Mongolia so long that the proximity of the clouds to the ground compared to the rest of the world finally caught up to me and I realized that in Munich this was what I had seen for most of my life and that Mongolia had wormed its way into being normal for me in so many different ways. The English Garden has a beer garden that serves beer and I had brought some strawberries and apples with me and saw that the Hofbrau Starkbier was for sale. I gave it a taste. Different from its Paulaner counterpart the Salvator. One of the reasons I had come to Germany was for the Starkbierfest that takes place during this time of year in Bavaria.
Sorry its sideways...did you know that thing planted in the middle of the garden is now the wifi tower?
Go food and beer go!!!!
Thats the spot where i collapsed onto the lawn. I relocated when i realized i was resting in the "clothing optional" section of the garden....
On to Nuremberg, where I spent the next two days running. The city of Nurembergs walls still stand, and the circumference between the wall and moat makes for an outstanding jogging track.
Both days I got up and got out my running shoes and did some pavement pounding. I had always wanted to take up running in Germany, its seemed such a serene place to jog, and it sure did not disappoint. I even brought my camera and snapped the odd shot here or there. Passing under tunnels, running over one man bridges, it all looked so amazing that 45 minutes later I was all the way around. I could have done another, but given the whole plane ride and the fact I already felt good I decided not to push it. I had been to Nuremberg before and seen it all and done it all, so I spent the daytimes drinking wine along the river edge, eating falafel at the greatest falafel stand in all of Europe, watching the array of different people walk by me, and all around just soak in more and more of the warm weather and the sun.
I love the Nuremberg Hostel i stay at. It names all their rooms funny things too. This was one of the two rooms i was in...
"Hey Dude, what room are you staying at?"
"Who me? Oh im in the wrong room!"
The evening of the second day was another couch surfing meeting thing. This was at a really cool bar sort of between Nuremberg and Furfth. I was the only foreigner coming to the thing but once again I just got invited right in. Good beer and good currywurst, the most unauthentic and yet the most popular wurst in all of Germany. (really it is) There are some really amazing people to meet in this world. One day I hope to be living in a location where I can host couchsurfers too. (there welcome to stay in my ger….but I sorta live in a middle of nowhere town right?)
The next day I went back to Munich where that evening I went to a final couchsurfing event. I met this really cool American woman there too. Nothing like that, just a woman that all around rocked. I didn’t even really notice if she was pretty or not (I think she was) it was just so amazing to speak to an American in their 20’s who actually went and did what I never got around to doing: Living and working in Germany. Now then again, she seemed also amazed that I was doing the whole Peace Corps thing so I guess we all do awesome in our own way right?
We also talked about our Ex’s. We both had the great deep scar. That woman/man who absolutely destroyed us. Luckily we were also both at a point past our loss that we don’t jump each other as an excuse to feel and we actually smile when we talk about them now. Collective healing instead of collective destruction, I like the feel of that.
I did sort of decide during this point of 3 days of amazing couchsurfers that barring a new dream job I am going to make this Germany thing eventually happen. I just love this country a little too much not to. Before 35, married to a German girl by 40, and live the middle age in a country where a beer at 2 in the afternoon is the staple, the four seasons are beautiful, the people are friendly and happy and somehow despite generations of living in America I can still feel the pull of my ancestral roots (technically they were Frankish more than Bavarian, but lets keep that to ourselves)
As a working woman she tragically had no time to bump into me later that week as the rest of my time was in Munich. So I woke up the next morning, realized a had a good four full days in Munich, and my jet lag was finally behind me. Well, I knew what to do next! Actually, despite having seen and done it all in Munich a thousand times over there was one final place left to inspect. I headed over to the Hirschgarden. This was where the royals kept their beergarden and it’s the largest in the world. It seats 8000 people and on a warm spring afternoon we actually come pretty close to filling it too.
But…there was one final treat in store for me. You see, I had never actually been to this garden before, but as the royal garden I imagined it was the beer of the royals, Hofbrau. A totally drinkable beer, but of the Munich bunch its near the bottom of my list. It goes Spaten, Hofbrau, Paulaner, Lowenbrau, HackerPshoor, and then Augustiner. As I approached the garden from the distance and walked my way to where they doll out the beer I saw…irregularities to my presumption. First the chairs had an inscription that while I couldn’t read didn’t look like the one at the English Beer Garden that also serves Hofbrau, the colors of things didn’t match it, in fact they looked….see I was getting closer and closer and as I began to allow myself to believe something I thought to be impossible I finally got close enough to see the guy who was pouring the beer…… and it was coming right out of the wooden barrel. There is only one of the Munich brand that still requires that when they serve their beer it comes straight from the wooden keg. The greatest beer that has ever existed…. The beer that could singlehandledly make me want to live in this city. The beer….. of Augustiner. And it was being sold in the largest beer garden in the world. I knelt from my walk-to-sprint advance in the middle of the beer garden and as a single tear passed my eye and rolled down as I stared up at the sun and the timeless Sky Father above me with a whispered voice I spoke only these words. “Thank You” The sun ducked behind a cloud as I did so and made a little bit of a twinkle, ill take that as Sky Father giving me a wink. I gave the ground which housed the beer in caves to keep it cool a gentle pat to also give the Earth Mother her due as well.
Now for beer. Amazingly, the starkbier was for sale in the beer gardens as well, I was not at all aware of this despite having been to three previous starkbier celebrations. This was my first starkbier ever from Augustiner which they called it “Maximator” Its fitting, the best lager is also the best starkbier. I don’t know how to describe it, it had the fullness of a guiness but the all around comfort of a light ale. It was….bliss. I traded between lagers, radlers and starkbier to keep myself upright.
I would have spent every day there, I really would. Yet the next day was a tad rainy, and instead I went to Paulaners beer hall for the band music of Starkbier.
Three hours later that guy had 5 too many and had to be dragged out by about 10 or so security guys. That dude was a walking muscle, and obviously during that moment i got far far away....great guy though when not drunk and on something...
I did the dance of “Cowboy und Indianier” and all that good stuff and got to talk to some very nice Austrian girls who thought Peace Corps sounded like the coolest thing on the planet. I told them that the VAC organization is pretty much the same thing and they said they would look into it. I showed them a picture of me in my dell on my IPod and they laughed so hard that tables in three different directions stared at us…tall order given the commotion of that beer hall.
By the way: Ill just comment that that picture is hanging from one of Paulaners walls and is by far the funniest thing to me. I love how the smallest girl has her feet tucked in as she chugs. I so need to get my American family to come with me, they don’t even need to go to a festival, they just got to see this place!
And of course....no matter where you sit you always find yourself in the company of beautiful women...
The final two days of Friday and Saturday… well I wouldn’t call it a bender because I was never drunk. Really I swear I was not. Sure I wouldn’t want to have driven a car but at no point did I do anything stupid, or act in a way unbecoming to myself, and from about 11am to 11pm each day (maybe 1am Saturday) I kept a continuous and ongoing degree of buzz inside me. That is not an easy feat btw. Anyone with a full wallet and a beer garden can get drunk, but to drink yourself to enjoyment for hours and hours on end without overdoing it….well that takes practice! Actually it was so bright and warm on Saturday that I gave myself a very light suntan on my face and arms! Mongolia, all the sun in the world and I have never once gotten burnt, one day in a Bavarian garden in spring and I roast alive…figure.
The caption for this picture is: "It is 11:51am"
I have ALWAYS wanted to take a picture of one of these and thankfully the bathroom was vacant so i could use my camera. In beergardens in Bavaria we have a vomit station that is specifically designed for you to puke into rather than using the stalls. Now i just need to see one in action, i certainly have seen enough people puke in Bavaria, but never into one of these. It feels so proper for such an improper thing right?
Greatest thing? No hangover…..the entire trip, never felt crummy at all. I awoke after six hours of sleep on Sunday ready to fly out to UB as though I had spent the evening before in bed with a cup of tea. Good gods I love Germany. So how did I feel on Sunday getting onto a train to take me to the airport? I tried to assess myself and found myself realizing that Germany and I have some sort of eternal connection. It happens every single time I am here and is showing little sign of giving up. I lived in the opposite direction of Germany of the other side of the world for nearly two years and I still found an excuse to come here. Will I miss Mongolia? Yup, but I know…I bedrock know…. That this is not the last Germany will see of me. So no, nothing bittersweet… My parting gift from Starkbierfest was at the Munich Airport. This country loves beer so much and is so good at it that the airport makes its own beer called Airbrau. Though small and unremarkable they too, for the 5th season create a starkbier. Each company has their own Starkbier and each name ends with “ator.” You know, Paulaner beer calls theres Salvator, Augustiner has the Maximator, Lowenbrau has the Triumphator. So…what is an Airbrau starkbier called….
…
…
Aviator….
…
…
Germany I love you…
…ill be back…
…you know I will…
So the plane right back was less enjoyable. Again no tiny tv’s to watch, and my company was a little more rounded than had been on the way here. And going away from something fun and I love. Not unhappy, just all around uncomfortable. I also had been wearing the same (im sure) beer smelly clothes for the last ten days with only a sink bath so yea it felt all around awkward.
Still, at 6am the next morning after a connection once again at Moscows wonderful airport I reached the Chinngis Khan Airport in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. Welcome back! Customs took forever, mostly because people up front couldn’t spell in Cyrillic. I on the other had got a 5 second look then pass….i must have an honest looking face. Outside I got my first whiff of a reminder of Mongolia as a thousand taxi drivers all ran up to me screaming to take their ride. Though irritated and uncomfortable from the plane ride I still REALLY didn’t want my first experience back in UB to be being ripped off by an ass of a taxi driver so I did what no gringos do in Mongolia. I took the bus back to the center of town. The reason this is so unique for foreigners is that the buses do not come to the airport. The airport demands a 500 tugriks (50 cent) tax to enter into the airport area and rather than pay that atrocious amount they simply make their airport stop 2km away down the dirt clearing to the east of the airport. So there I am at 7 in the morning strolling along in the dirt in the direction of a bus that will take a half hour to reach the center of town. I did it with such a smile on my face as I realized that I don’t even know what bus to take when leaving Dulles International Airport in Washington D.C., but I know exactly how to do so in Germany and in Mongolia. I guess its funny what qualifies someone knowing how to live somewhere right?
The next two days I spent in UB, and they were NOT fun! Jet lag….really…really bad jet lag. I also think something about the flight did not agree with me as I felt hot in the guesthouse. Granted it’s a lot warmer in Mongolia since I left but you don’t sweat in Mongolia in April….you just don’t. The jet lag gave me impossible sleeping hours. Exhausted as all hell but at 3 in the morning it felt something like 12 noon or something. So for two night I basically sat in my bed, catching sleep when it would come to me.
On Wednesday I knew school was back up and running so I meekered back to my town and came across my ger sweet ger…I missed my ger. I missed its smelly outhouse, its broken down cars and car parts, its homicidal dog, its broken water bin, its lack of cheese and foods of flavour, its less than 2 meter long bed and most of all its lack of tv, internet, bars, and abundence of droppings of every known animal….
….home…
My parting gift to the Euro Youth Hostel of Munich on their money wall. Mongolian tugriks telling them they have good beer..... Ah...my legacy goes on huh??? hehe...
Today I looked at my email and Peace Corps had sent me the end of service paperwork to get working on. They give this to us now because it really is a mountain of paperwork too. Yet it did remind me that in less than two months my mother arrives at Mongolia, and then less than a month then that I am stateside, or tearing it through Russia or China with my Stepfather and then stateside. Though America differs greatly from Germany I am aware that the degree of culture shock headed stateside may not be as grandiose as my European culture shock. Then again, most of my American family lives in America, so I imagine ill be telling my Peace Corps stories a lot more in Mongolia next time out of country.
So…that was Germany…
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