October 1st, 2007 - London to Munich

The Farthest "Beer Run" Ever

Four thirty in the morning came with the luster of well ground marble against cement. It felt good to be leaving and underneath the dull patina something clear and shiny remained. The glimmer for me was seeing my German lawyer friends again. Katrin and Franziska are intelligent, fun, and adventurous.

Thanks to the careful planning of Fiona, the rail trip to London City Airport was flawless. The four pound sterling fare for tube and light rail sure beat the forty pound cab estimate. The convenience of European public transportation is hard to beat.



Arriving in Munich the “transportation day” continued with a train from the airport to the Hauptbahnhof, followed by light rail. A relatively quick, but still weighted ten minute trek and I was home, at least for the next three nights.



Calling Katrin on my computer, we agree to meet at 4:30pm outside the Marienplatz U-Bahn station. I left 45 minutes early, calculating that the commute would take 15 minutes and then there would be a half hour to take pictures. The train platform clock caught my eye, as it read 4:45pm not 3:45pm. Crap, I was already fifteen minutes late. In making the transition from GMT to the mainland I had forgotten to add an hour to my watch. So trying to arrive a half hour early netted a result of finding Katrin a half hour late. She was all smiles and rejections of my apologies.



We met up with Fran and four new faces in a local biergarten. The beautiful thing about most Germans that I meet is that they are completely “laid back” in a community way as opposed to the typically insular self-concerned California track. (Just made many friends with that last statement… but if you reading this, you inherently not the norm.) They welcome strangers with an honest interest and go out of their way to be inclusive. It is almost on a visceral level, “Oh, you are human. Me too. Let’s talk about you.” The interest is so complete, with five on one that it is hard to return the questioning to find out more about them.

So, we are now on a mission to find the Oktoberfest grounds that just so happens to be about three blocks from my hostel. Now this is such a German thing. I took the train the 5 kilometers or so to meet my friends. They simply and happily walk the return without a second thought. Maybe New Yorkers walk as much, with a smile on their faces, as Germans do but I doubt there is another US demographic that could match the effort.

The Oktoberfest fair grounds are massive and that is an understatement. They are filled with carnival type rides, food vendors, and tents the size of indoor stadiums.



(Fran's boyfriend went immediately for the cotton candy... good call.)


Everything is larger than life.



For instance, there are not only the little carnival rides but full-blown roller coasters and log flume rides.



Massive towers elevate screaming customers ten stories into the sky.



Then, there are the bier tents. These are not flimsy poled structures but reinforced steel I-beam construction, housing thousands of people in each.



The inside surface area is bigger than a football field and there are probably ten of the behemoths on the Oktoberfest grounds.



Since it is late in the daily schedule we bounce from tent to tent trying to find a table inside. But each tent is filled with happy revelers. They raise their steins to one another.





Sing, ...



... dance, and eat lots of great food.





Absolutely no inside tables can be found inside, so we are grateful to find one outside after an hour’s waiting. So, it is time for the “fest” to begin.



Everyone saddles up to a liter stein of beer. The empty glass must weigh a kilo on its own, then add the fluid weight. We all take pictures of each other enjoying supersized event.



I was trying to cross my eyes at the size of the stein, but it only looks like I’m angry at it instead. (No Mom, I’m not drunk here, as it was literally my first sip.)



Then there is of course food and lots of it. While waiting for our mains to arrive we nosh of pretzels bigger than your head.



Or in some cases coming out of your head.



Fran's boyfriend tried to share some of his "half chicken" and it was so moist that the only thing delivered was a legbone sans meat. He gave an "Oh well I tried to share so its all mine now" smirk. We all had a good laugh at the attempt.



After dinner we decide to walk the fair grounds a little before heading into the tent. One of Katrin's friend from Berlin manager to shoot a seemingly infinite number of plastic tags with a "BB" gun and won a great big tiger, of which Katrin immediately takes ownership.



It was a group effort with our cheering section adding to the effort and everyone enjoying the spectacle of a group of adults clowning around with a massive, oversized tiger.



Inside, everyone is singing and dancing on the tables and benches. There is so much joy in the tent that it at first feels awkward. Everyone is smiling, singing, hugging strangers and there’s not an angry drunk in the mix.



We “clink” our steins together so many times it is almost a cliché and then it becomes a cliché and we are laughing at our overzealous selves.





Just as things are coming to a crescendo, there is a noise vacuum and suddenly it is over?



What happened? Simple, it is 10:30pm so everything ends. Exactly, neatly, completely, and no one protests the finality.



Tens of thousands of people now flood the spaces between food vendors and carnival rides to make their way home. Again, not a single angry drunk as the crowd streams in the direction of the train station, but instead people are singing and laughing along. If someone stumbles a complete stranger will reach out to pick them up, share a laugh together, and then everyone is off once again.

Sept 30th, 2007

London

I know that my comparison of London to a favorite old pair of shoes may have worn on some of you, who may still rightfully love this crowded old town. So, this entry may help to bring the emotional pendulum a little closer to swinging the opposite direction.

Today I was in search of an over thirty year old tradition. When we lived in Germany and Dad caught wind of the first European McDonald’s being opened just off of Trafalgar Square, well there was no stopping us. A trip to London was planned and we all happily imbibed. So a tradition was born and repeated at least once in every decade since. To prepare for the caloric saturation, I decided to walk from King’s Cross to Trafalgar Square (a solid 45 minute stroll).

Along the way, feeling nostalgic, I collected scenes. London does have its self-conscious design attributes that deserve appreciation. One such design was the development of the town house. This has grown into rows of apartments keeping in outward appearances to the old scheme.



Not to be outdone by Silicon Valley iconoclasts, this Londoner found the perfect blend of nature while nurturing his tech edge.



Some cities in the world are best appreciated looking upward, e.g. Chicago. London is filled with carved artwork, if you are willing to crane just a bit.



Now I can’t be entirely positive, having just stumbled across an old acquaintance “The Crown” pub. Back in 1997, hungry after a full day of wandering the city, we ventured into this pub for a quick late lunch of fish & chips. Even back then the ubiquitous London lunch ran us a not so cool $15 USD a piece. I was not going to make that mistake twice, besides today I would much rather pay $12.50 USD for a Big Mac Meal and an apple pie at the traditional location.



So I walked through the shaded alley ways of Covent Garden, the Broadway-esque theatre district…



… to walk out into the grand opening of Trafalgar Square. The square was crawling with tourists and of course pigeons.



These are the famous pigeons referred to in Charles Dickens classic “A Christmas Carol” when he writes about the Christmas goose and one of the ghosts says, “I’ve seen bigger pigeons in Trafalgar Square.”



I wonder what Dickens would think of the new modern art addition to the classic Empire honorary sculptures?



Taking in the square, I caught the first glimpse of the London Eye. This ferris wheel of sorts is truly a monster. The Eye towers over ten story buildings with little effort. The rotation is so gradual that, simply spotting the structure, progress is not even apparent.



For you Sir Nevil Mariner fans, a view across Trafalgar Square highlights St. Martin in the Fields, the orchestral home of one of the finest “classical” (with some baroque too) organizations in the world. In keeping with every major monument in the world being under reconstruction on this trip, St. Martin was scaffolded as well. What I’m curious about is just when did St. Martin actually stop being “in the fields”? It must have been hundreds of years ago.



One block off of Trafalgar Square is the Hay Market area, home to the famous Burberry Brand.



Right across the street from their landmark store is our family favorite McDonalds. Well not any longer. How disappointing to find that the old building that housed Mc-y D’s had been razed and this modern “office in a box” was the replacement. So the tradition has died.



Now worries for my grease and fries fix, because the replacement was up the street…



… and down a side street.



On the way home I saw another literary reminder of London, and this time it was from an illustration. Remember in “Peter Pan”, when the children fly away out the window and over the rooftops? They fly by and between the many rising coal smoke stacks for home heating. Every time I see these clusters, it reminds me of that moment.



Fiona patiently waited through my botched communication attempts and eventually met me at the hostel, right across from the national library.



She took me to a great Asian restaurant that focused their attentions on attempts at Thai food. However, Fiona won the day by choosing an amazing duck and Chinese broccoli main course.

As we said our third and final “good byes” of the weekend, it struck me that I hadn’t taken a single picture of our time together. Oh well, maybe next time.

Sept 29th, 2007

London

A leisurely start to the day was essential. The overnight flight from Moshi, to Dar es Salaam, to Amsterdam, and finally London, combined with a weary day and late night movie combined for a definite “sleep in”.

London is like an old pair of shoes that waits, hidden, in the back of your closet. Ten years ago you loved them, so still hang on, and when you actually put them on they are familiar but still a little overstretched. The previous attraction lingers and keeps me from crossing London completely off of a European trip, but the luster has long gone.

The streets are packed like any other major international center and that seems to exacerbate the weakness of the USD by inflating prices well beyond ordinary to absurd.



My mission for the day is to find the Apple Store on Regent Street. This is quite a stroll from King’s Cross and the crowding is exceptional here. The good news is that the Apple Store is easily found after wading through the human currents to cross the street.

The issue with my Macbook is that the keyboard deck has cracked. With two days left on the annual warranty, I decide to bite the bullet and invest the $250 for another two years of “bumper to bumper” coverage. The estimate for a post warranty deck replacement was over $300, so I took the $50 discount and two year bonus warranty.

The Apple store was an absolute zoo! With the release of the new “Touch Ipod” the store was flooded with buyers and gawkers.



The staff were swamped, but I did manage to catch the saving eye of one of the floor representatives who handed me off to a Mac Genius. Rob just happened to be an American, from Texas, who took great pity on my predicament of needing a fix from the only Apple store accessible in Europe and a flight booked for Monday morning.



He promised a “same day” fix if I could bring in my computer by 5:00pm. The race was now “on”. I left the store, jumped in the tube back to King’s Cross, ...



(I looked but couldn't find the platform to "Hogwarts" in the station.)


... grabbed my computer and raced back to the store to find no Rob in sight.



A half hour wait in line discovered that he was off to lunch, so another slightly less enthusiastic Mac Genius pitched in and asked me to return in an hour. One hour! Amazing!

(The domed building is the Apple Store.)


Aside from the shear size of this Apple store, it is easily the best store I’ve ever seen. There is even a theatre on the second floor where instructors give free tutorials on every piece of software in the ilife product bundle. It was fascinating to just sit and watch as about fifty other owners practiced with the instruction in real time.



Incredibly, the keyboard and deck replacement took only 45 minutes. My machine looked like new, reinforcing the investment decision.



With an hour to kill before meeting Fiona, I headed to Borders to pick up “How to Talk to a Widower” by Jonathan Tropper.

(Walking down the street was "kind of" like being at home, just turn right after the Gap and Baby Gap stores.)


The title doesn’t hint to a book with comic fringes but it was well recommended, so I picked it up for read along the way. Reading a couple of chapters at Piccadilly Circus, waiting for Fiona’s train to arrive, this book captured me almost immediately. It was one of those time paradox moments where, lost in the book, everything else blurred into peripheral shapes in motion while my focus was still and focused.

Dinner was an incredible vegetarian experience. Somehow, in the cramped London environment it didn’t’ seem appropriate to take pictures. But, on a related but different point, eating after leaving Africa seems to be a common ailment among western travelers. The appetite just isn’t there as the gastric flora changes. (Nothing is really unpleasant, just an appetite malaise, as the microbe forces fight for supremacy or eventually decide to just “play nice”.)