A little slice of Germany (and Christmas!) in the Midlands

We decided to take a quick train ride up to Birmingham to check out its famous Christmas market -- the biggest outside Germany, apparently. It seems that Birmingham is always a waypoint for us, as we fly on to other destinations, so it was nice to spend some time there; it really does feel like the country's second largest city, particularly the area we were in, swelled as it was with the market crowds.

At times you couldn't move, the pavements were so packed. Not a big deal when you have a piping hot mug of mulled wine warming your mitted hands and smelling so wonderful. And it was a feast for the eyes as well, of course: from the stunning traditional carousel in Victoria Square, to the displays of miniature German villages and nutcrackers -- Tea brought some of that home with her, of course.

Something I didn't expect was the wide range of German beers. In fact, it so struck me as wandering in Munich, that when Tea said that the market was known for its rare German beers, I replied, "What? I'm sure we could get a dunkel or Weissbier on any corner." Honestly, it really is a little slice of Bavaria. (Well, Germany, I guess, as they had Kölsch as well, which is associated more with Cologne -- where we're going next month for yet another Christmas market!)

We had a fantastic bratwurst shortly after arriving -- even the roll it was in was so wonderfully crusty and fresh... My mouth's watering just remembering it -- but started to think about a sit-down supper as evening approached. Thanks to Tea's handy CAMRA Beer Guide application, we found that a former Pub of the Year, The Wellington, was just a block off the market. That board on their website is current; they have it up on a big screen, and you order by pump number. The place was packed with folks and good cheer; just a great atmosphere. You don't see many milds around, so I ordered a pint of Hobson's Mild and Tea went for a Baskerville from the local Two Towers brewery. Both were excellent.

The Wellington doesn't serve food, though, so after that we were back on the street in search of a restaurant. Luckily, Thai Orchid is pretty much across the way. Their Tom Yam Goong (#11) was probably the best Thai soup we've had -- delicious!

The market was still in full swing as we finished up, so we got another mulled wine for the train ride, then continued with the supermarket brand when we got home, watching Love Actually and part of Elf before packin' it in.

 

Check out my Picasa album for more pictures from the evening.

Day 3: Nymphenburg Palace and Dachau

Tea had read that breakfast at K+K is overpriced, especially considering that Café Kitchenette is just down the road. Well, it's hard to imagine how any hotel breakfast could compete with this quaint, warm, home away from home.

The owner is a gem; a fact that became apparent before drinks had been ordered, when, in response to Stephen's asking whether they served Coke Light, she emphatically replied, "No! Only good things here!" regaling us with tales of the good ol' days of something she referred to as 'afric coke'. [With the benefit of hindsight, she clearly said Afri-Cola.] Stephen switched his order to orange juice, so we never did set eyes on this elixir.

When asked for recommendations -- the menu, written in German, was a bit of a slog, even with the help of my pocket-size Getting By In German -- she speculated, "You want big breakfast? Eggs?" Satisfied with our eager nods, she said, "I'll bring out tray; then another tray."

Palace Nymphenburg

Shortly thereafter, we were presented with a three-storey centrepiece of delicious meats, including smoked salmon, prosciutto, and other cuts of ham and salami, olives, many varieties of hard and soft cheeses, melon, tart red berries we recognised but couldn't name, honey and jam, breads of all sorts, and, of course, hard-boiled eggs. By the time we packed that down, we were all getting rather full. It was at that point that she replaced our decimated tiers with a fresh one, much the same as the first, but with one of the layers replaced with dainty cups of sliced fruit topped with a ground cherry.

Delicious!

From there, it was on to Schloss (Castle, or, in this case, Palace) Nymphenburg. The great hall and all of King Ludwig's beauties were impressive -- the portraits of the latter struck me as photographs, such was their attention to lighting and detail -- but it was the English Garden that I enjoyed the most. And I loved how many local joggers there were who clearly felt the same way.

For the afternoon, we decided to head to the former concentration camp at Dachau [as it's closed on Mondays -- the next day -- and, at this point, we were thinking about spending one more day in Munich]. First, however, we stopped at the gasthaus of Würmtalhof pension for some lunch.

We were clearly the only tourists in the spot, but the owner's English, while limited, served her very well. We had a fantastic meal of various sorts of schnitzels, and then got back on the road to Dachau.

As we pulled into the parking lot, there was something about the young man posted at the simple wooden hut, in his stance, dress, and the way he waved us on with his cigarette, that was just so German, and, more importantly, military; it really set the tone for the visit.

We had a little over an hour before closing, which was still plenty of time to explore the museum and get a glimpse of what the camp's prisoners went through. Even without the pictures and commentary, standing in that vast pebbled square, surrounded by simple barracks, was enough to drag you down; down in ways that I might imagine as even worse than the physical restraints those poor people had to suffer.

"Never again" one of the plaques read. I hope so.

10:30 p.m.

We went out for Italian that evening -- Pizzeria Europa -- which felt like a little slice of said country to the south thanks to all its expat waiters. Ours was from Milan -- I think he was a bit offended when he learned we'd been to Rome, Florence, Pisa, Naples, Capri, the list goes on, but not there -- and while I couldn't comment on his German, I'd bet he rarely needs English -- which isn't a criticism, incidentally, but simply an observation on the EU in action.

Walking back to the hotel, I was feelin' no pain. While waiting outside for Stephen to grab a "bed-time Diet Coke" at the nearby McDonald's, a poster for a new burger distracted me -- it was called some four-digit number, and, upon deciding it couldn't be a year, I struggled to fathom its meaning.

Slowly it occurred to me that Tea was saying my name; at that point, I looked up, into the expectant face of a cyclist I can best describe as the German 'Bubbles'. Three, maybe four, seconds passed as we stared at one another; then, without uttering a word, he deliberately gave his bell a double ring, but made no other move. Still in a bit of a daze -- "The rest of the sidewalk's free, dude," hindsight says -- my body obeyed his command, stepping back, before my mind entirely grasped it. And so, off he went again, like he has a dozen of these encounters a day.

Up next: Salzburg, Austria

Day 2: Munich!

Up very early this morning. Don't expect the houseboat residents appreciated our luggage clattering along the cobblestones at 5 a.m. Took the Heathrow Express from Paddington, then the quick flight to Munich.

Navigating the ring road in our hire car was fun, particularly when we started hitting cul-de-sacs courtesy of metal barriers that our sat-nav knew nothing of. [Aside: we later learned that one of the 'avoidances' we always leave on -- toll roads -- was unnecessarily complicating our routes; apparently most of the autobahns are marked as toll roads on our 2009 maps.] Eventually we made it to the hotel, though, and then took the U-Bahn to Marienplatz.

As we emerged from the subway, raised voices and music could be heard. Initially, we laughed off Tea's guess of protests, only to have it confirmed by a local shortly thereafter. Hundreds, if not thousands, of folks carrying and wearing "Atomkraft? Nein danke!" lined streets and pathways. [Now that I'm connected again, I'll let this Deutsche Welle story tell the tale:

A focus of the protest was the formation of a human chain, about 10 kilometers long, through the center of the city... Organizers said that some 50,000 people in all took part in the day's events, while police put the number at around 25,000.

...

Social Democratic Party (SPD) leader Sigmar Gabriel said that the turnout revealed the level of opposition to a planned extension to the operating lifespans of Germany's nuclear power plants...]

Tea successfully navigated around that excitement, bringing us to the decidedly more jovial bustle of the Hofbräuhaus am Platzl.

Well, I have to say, the Hofbräuhaus franchise in Las Vegas is excellent. Much as there, music, laughter and the general buzz of good cheer washed over us as we explored the many rooms of the former royal brewery.

A friendly British couple who are living in Munich invited us to sit at a Stammtisch or local table, where we enjoyed pork knuckle, cabbage rolls and schnitzel, as well as the house original and dunkel (or dark beer) and radlers (or shandies). [Funnily enough, the direct translation of radler is cyclist; h'm...]

The whole atmosphere of the Hofbräuhaus is fantastic. That such a tourist attraction still reserves over a hundred tables for locals, and lets them lock up their steins in the entryway between visits, just strikes me as so... right.

From there, we made our way to the beautiful Neues Rathaus, or New Town Hall, where they seemed to be setting up for a concert of sorts. We stayed in the plaza for the hourly Rathaus-Glockenspiel show, and then made our way to a local grocery store. An hour or so later, ladened with many tasty biscuits, peanut-butter 'cheezies', and a jug of Neuschwansteiner beer -- literally, and a beautiful vessel it is -- we headed back to our rooms at the K+K hotel on the crowded subway.

Up next: Schloss Nymphenburg and Dachau

[Also, don't forget that all these pictures and more are available in my Picasa album.]