Munch on Munchen
July 13th 2008 07:25
Munich
Munchen is not all beer and sausages. Sitting so closely to Austria and Switzerland in the southeast corner of Germany, they are quite partial to schnaaps and struudles too.
It all seemed rather stereotyped at first: bull necked visi-goths in lederhosen eines, zwie, drie-ing themselves into alcoholic stupors to the tunes of Schlager bands. It all seemed a little bit, white. After all, this was going to be the capital of the Third Reich, seat of Pax Germania. The city, through its architecture has a whiff of this Imperialism when it is first entered. It was the seat of the Bavarian Royal Family who, when not indulging in their incestuous eccentricities, played ‘build a bigger church, palace, or triumphal arch than papa,’ game. The result is an old city that is a collection of grand palaces, churches, and ludicrous self-congratulating statues. The Residenz in particular is the flashpoint for the rivalry between the 16th and 19th Centuries, each monarch adding wings more grandiose than their predecessor.
Around the city you also find plenty of Third Reich architecture too: imposing, Romanesque buildings designed to inspire awe and obedience. Along with the Bavarian royalty’s creations, the effect is pulled off: there is a feeling of Orwellian-like governance in Munchen as strong as Moscow or Beijing. For this reason, Munchen can be a little intimidating. It takes an enthusiastic scratch beneath the surface to discover the people’s city beneath the suffocating liberties taken by kings and fuhrers on the cityscape; Munchen is high maintenance.
Though Boerish, agricultural, and slightly intimidating at first glance, Bavarians are as friendly and open as any other German despite Rhinelanders’ claims to the contrary. Everyone I encountered was obliging, friendly, willing to converse in English, and often keen to hazard a guess at the appeals of Munchen no matter how many 1 litre jugs of beer they had taken from the Frau.
It pays to persist with the architecture after the intimidating start too. A closer look reveals, interspersed within the Imperial and Third Riech buildings a collection of grand gothic pieces giving the city some heart. The Neues Rathaus is magnificent; the centrepiece of the town in Marienplatz at the southern end of Weinstraat.
And if you are willing to stretch out of Munchen, you’ll come across two impressive staples of the tourist diet. The Olympia park, half a dozen kilometres to the north of Marienplatz, is home to Bayern-Munchen and a living museum of innovative seventies architecture. It was an infamous Olympics; almost as infamous as Berlin. Surprisingly, there are few hints of what went on. All I could find was a large concrete beam on it’s side with an inset written in Hebrew and plaque closer to the main stadium commemorating the 11 dead.
If you like your sports on larger tracks then you’ll probably want to cross the road to the BMW to get a fix of petrolhead history. It is also a good place for anyone who wants to see the evolution of cars to the blurry silver shapes that canter down the autobahn past you at 250kph.
More Munich
Nothing sums up Munich like a walk up Leopoldstraat. If you take the kilometre and a half walk northwards you’ll also find after passing through the siegestor a stretch of cafes and bars set back from the Leopoldstraat and nestled among trees as classy as anything found in the fields of elysee.
Munchen is not the fast food of German cities, not a hamburger or a frankfurter. Munchen is a beer and a big, gritty sausage: rather than short and sweet like strudel and schnapps it is an aquired taste. You cannot munch on lunch in Munchen quickly, you must have a sit down dinner and absorb. Although daunting at first, like wit worst, take small bites, wash down with lots of beer.
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