Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Meanwhile back in Munich...

“In München steht ein Hofbräuhaus, eins, zwei, g’suffa!”

Our Sunday evening reminded me of a few college memories: a) rugby… or at least the post-game celebrations where whoever scored a tri had to “shoot the boot”—meaning fill up the size 15 muddy rugby cleats and drink a full beer out of them. The rest of the team would be singing drinking songs, including the cheeky ballad “I used to work in Chicago…” b) A former backup Stanford offensive lineman, 6’4”, 290, #62. Although a google search suggests he might be working in the city of Palo Alto, his doppelganger is the hired muscle for the Hofbräu Haus.

Our plan was to just have a quick drink and a bite to eat to check the box that we hit up a bierhaus … but at the Hofbrau things can change faster than Superman in a telephone booth. Two older couples joined us at our table… seemed innocent enough. A little small talk, another liter of beer, a couple prosts, another liter, a few recommendations for the next leg of our journey, another liter… and then before you can say “weltanschauung,” Ricardo and Mark had the other gentlemen’s ties, I was locked in an arm wrestling competition, and Lia was wearing a cookie heart necklace. It was such an extraordinary night that we’ll be mailing 40+ digital pics to Walter, the 90-year-old German mackdaddy just so he also has a few mementos.

We had a few more days to stir up some trouble so we did a quick loop to Vienna. By now, we were running on fumes and we didn’t even have our Lonely Planet concierge service to guide us to the best spots. Fortunately, we were staying at the Wombat Hostel which had a complimentary map and list of recommendations. We did the sightseeing stuff—walked throughout the Inner Stadt, the historical heart and primary district in Vienna featuring St. Stephens Cathedral, Hofburg Palace, and the State Opera House. Along with a day trip to Grinzing, which is supposedly the Napa Valley of Vienna with 700 hectares of vineyards… embarrassingly, we didn’t make it to a single winery.

On the final night of international travel, what better way to cap it off than doing a live fantasy football draft at 4 am. It didn’t have to be that way, but the yahoo servers failed us 24 hours earlier.

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