We spent our last morning in Munich eating (me) and drinking beer (Luke). A quick walk around town and the markets followed by croissants in a cafe with a great view.
Then a beer at the famous Hofbrauhaus. Even at 10am we were not the only people the beer hall. It was a little weird to have two groups of school kids come through, cameras flashing. It’s hard to accept that a building can be both a place where people drink themselves into a coma and a stop on a primary school excursion simultaneously.
We walked back to the hostel to meet our shuttle to Cesky. Even though it’s only a 3 hour drive from Munich it doesn’t seem to be a popular route and there’s only one company that does it directly. Although the fare was somewhat steep we did get picked up from our hostel and dropped at the door of our accommodation. On the drive we saw snow, all the more surreal since it was a 20 degree day and the aircon in the car wasn’t working so we were absolutely roasting, even with the windows down a little.
The German countryside is filled with perfect little houses, all white with red roofs, green fields, and more solar panels than you can imagine. Parts of the freeway were lined with rows upon rows of them and nearly every house had an impressive array on the roof.
All that stopped when we entered the Czech Republic. It’s a little like when you drive from Victoria to NSW and there’s an immediate decline in the quality of the road. Except in this case it’s a decline in the quality of everything. Even the trees look more shabby than the ones in Germany (which, to be honest, somewhat reminded me of Duloc from the movie Shrek). There were also several tractors piled with hay that we passed on the road… I’m not sure what it is about the more easterly European countries and tractors with huge piles of hay but it’s apparently a cliche for a reason.
After checking into the hostel and finding that we’d been upgraded to a 3 person room (rather than a 16 bed dorm) which we don’t have to share (woohoo!) we wandered through the town. It’s very quintessentially old Europe.
We bought some canned goulash for dinner and hunkered down with the American manager, Brennan, and had a great evening of chatting and drinking some of our duty-free.