The Birth Town of A Legend Awaits
05.10.2015 - 05.10.2015
Good day fellow lovers of life and explorers of the globe!
Today marked the last day in Munich. The city of angels...no not really, but it definitely had it's share of historic churches etc. Someone told me once that vacations are meant for rest and experiences. I completely agree. However, many unique experiences require one to sacrifice sleep for a memory that will never be forgotten. Be prepared to be disappointed for I do not have some crazy all nighter story lined up, in fact I was just softening you up for some good old fashioned complaining about not being a morning person. Last night, up til around 2 being ridiculously awesome. Train in the morning at 7:04.
6:00. Alarm sounds. Eh, I've got time. Lady roommates begin to shuffle around in their respective beds, thus meaning that I can lie still in my cacoon a bit longer. 6:15. I've got time. 6:25. Where did the ladies go?..... I've got time. 6:30 - time to Home Alone rush to get clothes on, brush teeth, gather bags and haul tail to the train station. With the exceptions of dodging a few vomit piles on the sidewalks, and having a young Gent walk with me discussing God knows what (in drunken German because he stumbled out of a strip club in between me and the ladies), the stroll to the station was quite pleasant!
Made it in time for a quick bite before having to board the train for departure. (told you I had time). German pastry and espresso will do. By this time the crew had transformed from beginning of vacation Habby (happy Abby), Happy Beard, and Auntie Deb to Grabby (Grumpy Abby), Beard, and Auntie Deb. Wait, I've been instructed to utilized the nickname Sourpuss Abby instead I kid, I kid . We were all groggy and excited for the next leg of the journey.
ICE (ice baby) train time:
After 3ish hours then a train transfer in Frankfurt to complete the journey to my motherland, I stepped out of that regional rail chariot and whispered under my breath, Wiesbaden, I am home. Honestly, I wasn't sure what to expect, besides the obvious - a welcome home parade with liters of beer in hand of all residents cheering joyously and dancing in the streets. I won't go into detail, but my memory is that it definitely occurred in a similar manner.
We began with brunch. The trip continued in it's tradition - tiny portioned served to fat American. That's my theory at least. There's just something about walking on cobblestone which you hadn't walked in 25 years. I suppose I was a bit different back then, shorter, browner...same appearance in every other way though - surprised no one noticed me.
Guys, my city. So chill. Gorgeous. Relaxed. Christened by the Pope. On a bloody river that people congregate around to soak in the sun with choice beverage in hand. This town is beautiful. I shall retire here. Much more Urban than originally thought, however it still has the architecture of old Germany. There was a mini-castle on the Rhine. Which, of course, was where I grew up. Here are some photos that pale in comparison to the real deal.
We walked to city to view the streets/areas then ended the day on the Rhine river lounging in the sun followed by a delicious dinner on a patio on the river. This was the definition of Sunday Funday.