Endlich zu Hause

I woke up, checked out of the hostel, and went to downtown Munich with the primary goal of having käsespätzle. It was pretty early, so I wasn’t sure if many restaurants were open. I walked around looking at menus for Käsespätzle. I knew the Hofbräuhaus did, so I walked in that direction, open to other restaurants. After a couple failed attempts I went to the Augustiner restaurant and ordered the Käsespätzle and a pint of beer. “What beer would you recommend?” I asked the waiter. “Um… well this is an Augustiner restaurant.” “Oh, um, right, that one,” I said sheepishly. 

The käsespätzle did not disappoint. The egg noodles were dense and covered in melted cheese and grilled onions. I ate the whole thing. 

One of the nice things about traveling alone is that I could go wherever I wanted whenever I wanted, eat whenever I was hungry, and do things at my own pace. There was no lengthy discussions about planning, I just did whatever I felt like. I loved traveling with my friends and we had a great time. I enjoyed their company and it was fun exploring the cities with people I knew. But it was nice to take a city I was so familiar with and visit what I wanted without worrying if other people thought it was boring.

I truly enjoy just walking around cities, getting a feel for them. And I’d already done most of the touristy things in Munich. So I just walked around. I walked from Marienplatz to Karlsplatz, stopping at the Kaufhaus for some German chocolate. I stopped by stores in the Fuβgängerzone. I wanted a view of Munich, so I decided to go to the Olympiaturm, which I’ve been to before but not for awhile. On the UBahn over I decided to make a stop by the University in Munich because I realized I’d never been to that area. I explored the University area then walked over to Englischer Gartens. I rested my feet in the huge, gorgeous gardens, and then walked back to Marienplatz. 

 

Exhausted, I went back to the hostel to hang out and use the wifi for a bit before heading out to dinner. 

One of the bigger adjustments to traveling alone was going out to restaurants alone. I eat alone all the time, but usually it’s when I’m cooking for myself at home or if I grab casual fast food, like a burrito or a sandwich. I’ve been out to a restaurant once or twice by myself before, but I got intimidated the first couple times I went out to a sit down restaurant by myself. My initial thoughts were always people are staring at me. But no one actually cared, so I got over that and eventually got the hang of going to restaurants by myself. 

I had never been to the Ratskellar before, the restaurant below the Glockenspiel and the Rathaus, so I decided to check it out. I got käsespätzle and wine and it was delicious. The waiter was very friendly and talkative. I went outside, appreciated the Glockenspiel at night, and then went back to the hostel. I picked up my backpacks. 

One downside of growing up very dependent on cell phones or internet for communication is that when I’m stranded without one I don’t function nearly as well. I took the S7 to Höllriegelskreuth around 10:30pm, which at this point is so second nature I didn’t have to put much thought or effort into getting to Pullach. I walked down Gistlstraβe carrying my bulky backpacks, a rush of sentimental memories coming back as I neared our old house. I checked to see if Philipp was home first before heading over to Herr Grimm’s to pick up the key. 

I remembered Irmi’s instructions: if Herr Grimm is not there, the key will be hidden under the cowbell under the bathroom window. I searched and I searched for a cowbell but I could not find one at Herr Grimm’s. I walked back to the Müller Rees’s to see if I could find a cowbell there. No luck. Back to Herr Grimm’s. I expanded my search using the light of my cell phone. I couldn’t find anything. I didn’t want to wake up Herr Grimm since I got there so late, but I wasn’t sure when Phillipp would get back from dinner. I figured I would get desperate enough to try to wake him up eventually, so better sooner than later. I tentatively buzzed the doorbell and waited. No response. I tried gently knocking on the door. No answer. 

I decided to be optimistic that Philipp would get back soon, so I sat at the small table in the Müller Rees’s front garden where I used to have breakfasts with them in the summers sometimes. I sat at the table and wrote for awhile, giving myself a midnight deadline before figuring something else out. The lights outside were motion sensored so every few minutes I’d have to wave my arms wildly around when they’d click off. It got quite old. 

Midnight arrived slowly and I was starting to get very antsy. My next option was to turn on my cellular data so that I could get ahold of Philipp. I was trying to avoid that because I knew it would be expensive and I figured the second I turned it on Philipp would arrive. Eventually though I started to shiver, so I turned on my data and Facebook messaged Philipp to let him know I couldn’t find the key and to ask if there was a spare somewhere else. My phone had no problem connecting to Vodafone.de. I also had his phone number so I tried texting him. The only problem was I couldn’t figure out the correct 0s + country code + area code combination so none of the texts were going through. I tried several different combinations, before calling my dad back in California.

I felt bad complaining since it was my own fault for arriving in Pullach so late, so I just explained the situation. “He should be here soon,” I kept repeating optimistically. The only problem was as far as Philipp was aware, I had a key and was fine inside. 

“This will just be a story someday,” I kept telling myself. Getting stuck outside the Müller Rees’s in Pullach on Halloween.  

At this point I was getting quite cold. I was shivering so I stood up and waited eagerly on the front porch listening for any car or person. I had put on every layer of clothing I could find, including my long sleeve shirts, fleece, coat, and beanie. I had even wrapped an extra tshirt around my neck like a pseudo scarf. I considered doing jumping jacks or jogging up and down the street but I was too lazy so I settled for shivering. 

I heard the voices coming up the street and I listened hard, but it didn’t sound like Philipp’s voice. I was still hopeful. Two people opened the gate and walked up to the duplex.

It was Bob and Uschi, who we knew when we had lived in Germany and who I haven’t seen in several years. 

“Was, hast du dein Schlüssel vergessen?” Bob asked me in German if I had forgot my key. I opened my mouth to say something, but the cold slowed my brain and I couldn’t decide if I should reply in German or English or what I should even say. He made another comment and I just stood there, frozen for multiple reasons. 

At this point Uschi realized who I was and her face broke into a huge grin. She also was unsure what to say, so she pressed her hands to her mouth and then started pointing at me.

“What do you not speak German?” Bob asked me, in German.

“It’s Kelly!” Uschi exclaimed happily. 

I explained I was waiting for Philipp and they invited me in. They explained that it was Andrea’s 18^th birthday the day before and they threw a huge party for her that went all night with about twenty to thirty of her friends. They went through several bottles of wine and 99 bottles of beer. Bob offered me the last one, but I declined in favor for several glasses of water. They also had a lot of leftover cake, so Uschi served me up a plate of rainbow vanilla cake with silver ball bearings. 

I enjoyed the cake, water, defrosting (and da frosting!) while catching them up on what my siblings and parents were up to and they told me about their kids, Andrea and Michael. 

Uschi was very excited to see me and kept hugging me and bringing me more water. It must have been strange after several years to have me randomly show up on their neighbor’s front porch at 1 in the morning with no context. In my beanie and tshirt scarf I was impressed that Uschi recognized me so quickly. 

I messaged Philipp to let him know where I was and he came and got me shortly after. It turned out Philipp forgot his key too, but luckily remembered where the spare was hidden. Philipp was very apologetic and very nice about me getting stuck outside. It wasn’t that bad, just cold.  

“Many greetings to your family!” Uschi kept repeating. 

I went back with Philipp next door. I met two of his friends from uni who came to visit Munich with him for the weekend. Philipp offered me the basement room, which I had stayed in when I visited for Oktoberfest a couple years before. Philipp gathered me lots of different options for gear. It was almost comical how much shorter I am than all of the Müller Rees’s. I used a mixture of Kathrin’s and Irmi’s gear. I really didn’t have anything, so Philipp made sure I had boots, skis, poles, gloves, helmet, goggles, ski pants, and a jacket. 

I went to bed around 2:30. Philipp told me we were leaving at 6:15 so I set my alarm for 5:45. It was extraordinarily painful getting out of bed the next morning, but I was very excited. Philipp was already in the kitchen slicing bread and cheese for our breakfast and running around packing the car. I was groggily moving around unhelpfully half in ski clothes and half in my pajamas. 

Philipp was very enthusiastic about everything and made sure I felt very welcome.

“We have so much to talk about! Like…why are you here?” Philipp asked me, grinning. I laughed. "That's a good question!" I replied.

We hopped in the car and took off south toward Austria. I had forgotten how absolutely stunning southern Germany and Austria are, especially at this time of year. We were up so early we got to see the sun rise bright pink over the dark Alps. The Alps themselves are incredible. They’re so steep and jagged and huge. There are cute little towns nestled in the bright green valleys of the giant Alps. The little white farmhouses with their orange and brown roofs cling to the lower mountainside. It was quite a lovely drive.

 Philipp added this to the car for Kathrin's sake

We got to Stubaie Glacier in Austria around 8:30. Philipp told me we were about half an hour from Italy.

We bought our tickets and took two gondolas up to the top of the mountain. The first thing we did when we got off the highest gondola was climb up a very long set of stairs in our ski boots to see the view from the tippy top. Philipp sprinted up the stairs. I was out of shape and not adjusted to the altitude. I was wheezing and dragging myself up the stairs. Philipp has a few pictures of me at various stages struggling up the steps when I paused for breaks. I thought I was going to throw up or pass out or both, but I really wanted to see the view. I had to sit for a few minutes at the top. Once I got my breath back, I was able to appreciate the stunning view. There were snowcapped Alps as far as the eye could see in every direction, with hundreds of jagged peaks slicing into the bright blue sky. It was sunny and gorgeous and if I wasn’t so cold and short on oxygen I could have sat up there for awhile appreciating the view. 

We then started our ambitious day of skiing. Philipp originally told me we were doing a half day which sounded manageable for my level of fitness. We ended up skiing from about 9 to 3. We constantly went up and down the mountain, skiing run after run. 

I’m used to my slalom skis, which are meant to be a lot shorter. I was on Kathrin’s skis and Kathrin is probably about eight inches taller than me. The first thing I did on the skis was eat shit. It wasn’t too bad, but I caught an edge on some ice at the bottom of the first run and went skidding out.

Once I adjusted to the length it was great. They were a lot lighter than my skis so when we went through the park I even got a little bit of air! Jumps are not my forte. Philipp went flying over each jump and I tentatively got a few inches between the bottom of my skis and the snow. Philipp is quite fast too, so it challenged me to keep up with him. We went flying down the mountains carving wide turns. 

 

There were a lot of people out enjoying the early November glacier skiing, but it wasn’t too crowded and we had plenty of space to ski. 

We skied off piste and on, on extraordinarily moguly runs and smooth groomed ones. The only thing that would have made the day better would have been a fresh layer of powder. I thought I would be freezing, but the weather was sunny and warm and I even had to take off layers. I borrowed Kathrin’s bright orange ski pants and bright blue jacket and I fit right in. In California, most people stick to basic ski pants colors: black and white. Most of the people I saw had the most colorful pants ever: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple. The whole rainbow! 

We met up with a girl Philipp befriended at the Oktoberfest. When she showed up on a snowboard, Philipp muttered to me disappointedly, “I didn’t know she was a snowboarder.” 

We went to a park. There were famous skiers and boarders there filming a video. They had cameracopters and super fancy gopros. We watched them for awhile flinging themselves off the huge jumps, twisting in the air, helicoptering, flipping weightlessly through the air. It was awesome.

We got to the peak and took fast, wide turns down a groomed cruiser. The Alps were framing all sides and I could see the valley down below. I felt like “Step Out” should be playing in the background and I skied down the glacier. 

 

The Alps are so pretty and it was awesome to be able to ski in them again. I tried to pay attention both to the skiing and to the amazing view of the mountains. The alps are so big. I loved it. I love skiing. It’s one of those things that’s hard to explain in words why I like it so much. Why I enjoy waking up before the sunrise and be cold so I can attach two sticks to my feet and slide down a mountain. But I love it and it’s awesome. I love the views, I love the adrenaline rush, I love the feeling of rushing down a mountain as fast as you can go. It’s quite fun. It’s a great sport. 

 

For lunch we ate outside at the main restaurant. I got käsespätzle of course, and a Paulaner. I felt almost obligated to. Philipp and his friend took an accidental nap at the lunch table, so I was left to sit there and enjoy the view of lunch and beer in the mountains. 

We continued skiing, trying to ski as many runs as we could. 

You’re never supposed to call last run, but Philipp and I called last run about five times. We’d get to the bottom of a great run. “One more?” he’d ask. My thighs were on fire and I thought my arms were going to pop out of their sockets and fall down the mountain, but I was not about to turn down any opportunity for one more run on an Austrian Alp. 

We left about four and drove through the dusk Alpine valleys. We drove back through Garmisch. There’s a part of Garmisch I really like. Garmisch is quite flat and low but it’s framed by very steep, very high mountains and it looks so cool. Especially since it was getting dark, they were black outlines against a dark blue sky. It looked awesome. 

Philipp called Kathrin on the way back and I got to talk to her for a bit. In German, when you refer to someone sometimes you call them die + name for girls and der + name for boys. I like the way it sounds. Philipp would make a couple phone calls on the drive back. “Ich bin mit die Kelly! Die Amerikanerin, meine Freundin aus Kalifornia!” (I’m with the Kelly! The American, my friend from California!”). I think it sounds cool referring to someone with ‘the’ in front of their name. I went skiing with the Philipp! 

I had horrible helmet hair and I smelled like ski sweat. But we had no time to shower. We changed quickly and drove quickly to Rosenheimerplatz where we were meeting three of Philipp’s friends from university. The four of them were all viticulture students. One of them was Italian and his father owned an authentic Italian restaurant in downtown Munich. He hooked us up with a delicious three course Italian meal for free.

The appetizer round began with a huge tray full of giant mozzarella balls, thick tomato slices, bunches of basil, ham drenched in a tangy sauce, crunch baguette slices, olive oil, vinegar, and other meats that I was somewhat uncertain what they were. Then they brought out pizza bread which was just round cooked pizza dough with seasonings. They gave us two bottles of really nice Italian red wine.

“We got one with meat, I hope that’s okay. It’s… ragu?” Philipp told me.

I was not going to complain about a delicious free meal so I had planned to eat whatever they served me. 

“What’s ragu?” I asked.

“Baby cow,” Philipp replied.

“Ah,” I said noncommittally. 

The main course was a thick twisty pasta in a brothy sauce with chunks of ragu and shredded ham topped with a huge pile of freshly grated cheese. It was absolutely amazing. I did pick around the meat as best as I could and the waiter laughed when he picked up my plate when I was finished. Everyone else’s was licked clean and mine had a pile of ragu chunks with everything else picked out. I tried to be subtle about it. 

I like wine a lot. But Philipp’s friends thoroughly enjoyed each glass of wine they had. They all held their glasses daintily by the stems (to not affect the temperature the wine was served at, they explained). They’d swirl it absentmindedly to oxygenate the wine while having intense conversations about their wine education. For every sip they took they would swirl and then close their eyes and smell the wine, then take a sip. 

“Here, I’ll show you how to properly taste wine!” Philipp’s friend told me. “Swirl it and look at the color. Then smell it. Do you smell the oakiness? Mmm… the cherry undertones? This one was in an oak barrel for 18 months.” “Mm, yeah,” I agreed. However, it was my third glass of wine, so she could have told me that it smelled like unicorns and I would have believed her. 

For dessert they served two dishes. One was a cream dish drenched in berry sauce. The other was tiramisu coated in a thick layer of cocoa powder. 

The meal was eaten very slowly over the course of several hours. At this point I was running off of about three hours of sleep after a very full day of skiing and I was so tired I was in pain. I was trying to figure out if I could somehow subtly sleep in my chair while everyone continued on with dessert, but was unsuccessful as people kept trying to kindly bring me into the conversation. So when they finished off the meal with espresso, I could not decline.

Despite it being 7 degrees Celsius outside, Philipp rolled down the top of the slug bug convertible and blasted Europop Top 40 Remixes as we sped back to Pullach. 

Philipp also had a friend who had connections at a swanky club in downtown Munich. He was very excited to take me to the club, so we went back to Pullach, showered, and got ready to go out.

“We’ll leave at midnight!” Philipp told me. Still used to the Santa Barbara 10-2 nights, I was not sure if I could make it out for a night of European clubbing. I figured Philipp would understand if I didn’t make it out, but I didn’t want to bail. I was so, so tired. I hadn’t made up my mind and I was wearing both my nice black dress and my flannel pajama pants when Philipp asked me if I was ready to go. “Yup, almost!” I replied thus committing to going out. 

We went out to a club and danced until three in the morning. By the time we got home and got ready for bed it was four in the morning.

I woke up groggily and checked my phone. 4:45 it said. “Stupid phones not working it switched back to California time. I need to connect it to wifi to see what time it really is.” Was my groggy thought. I unlocked my phone, connected it to wifi, and the time did not change. Was it 4:45 in the morning? I rolled out of bed and shuffled upstairs. 

“Kelly!” Philipp greeted me. “Finally!” 

It was 4:45pm. I had slept all day. I had told Philipp jokingly that I would, but I expected to wake up around 11. I think I desperately needed the sleep though. 

Philipp told me that Herr Grimm was excited to see me, so I went over to our old house. He seemed very happy to see me and invited me in. The last time I saw him we had the whole conversation in English, so that’s how I started this conversation. I showed him pictures on my phone of my family. “Michael ist so groβ!” I showed him a picture of Michael with my parents. “Und Shannon ist so schnell!” I showed him a picture of her hurdling. “Du sprichst doch gut Deutsch!” he told me and insisted on speaking in German the rest of the time. He kindly let me stumble through improper conjugations and patiently let me correct myself until I found the article that sounded most right. We were able to have the whole conversation in German and I told him all about what me and my family were up to and asked about his son and his work. I struggled finding the words for some things though. It was a long conversation and it’s been awhile since I’ve had to use extensive German.

“Shannon studiert das Meer,” I kept repeating. Shannon’s studying the oceans. He told me he didn’t understand, and I might have been mispronouncing it, so I tried a different approach. “Shannon studiert Fische… und Schildkröten,” I explained. Shannon’s studying fish and turtles.

He laughed. “Ach so! Ozeanografie!” 

Herr Grimm kept on insisting that I come back with my family and visit soon. He said he had lots of spare guest rooms and that we were more than welcome. He then showed me that he kept the 2008 California calendar my mom sent him. 

Eventually Philipp came over and joined our conversation. Philipp then told me he was going to a family friend’s dinner in Schäftlarn and that I was welcome to join. I was planning on going to downtown Pullach for dinner because I hadn’t been yet to see it. I considered it and then decided to join Philipp. 

We drove over to his friend’s house. They were very welcoming and talkative. Everyone spoke very good English. I even met a half German half American who grew up in Ojai, right near Santa Barbara, which was cool. 

The dinner was very delicious with a huge, fresh caprese salad and baguettes for appetizers. They served white wine and beer. The main course was roasted pumpkin, mashed potatoes, and some sort of meat. I had the pumpkin and potatoes and it was very good. For dessert there was a Bavarian cream with raspberry sauce (similar to pudding or mousse). Philipp had to drive back to his university that night, so he dropped me back off in Pullach. 

Philipp and I talked on the way home about the time he visited California for two weeks and other times we’ve visited them in Germany.  “What a cool friendship!” Philipp told me.

Philipp gave me the key and told me to leave it with Herr Grimm the next morning.

I was overwhelmed by people’s generosity and hospitality. Friends everywhere went out of their way to make sure I had a good time. It was fantastic and I hope someday to either return the favor somehow or pay it forward. 

I spent the evening cleaning out my backpacks. I had accumulated so much crap. I didn’t have space to be sentimental, so I threw out all maps, ticket stubs, and various other items I had accumulated, including any tights with holes in them to make space for the souvenirs I had bought.

I woke up the next morning and had just enough time for a quick bike ride to downtown Pullach. I borrowed a bike, rode down to the center and back. The bakeries smelled amazing and I wish I had a chance to stop for a coffee or sandwich, but I just had to keep biking. 

Keisha told me as she was packing to leave the Netherlands that she thought it was always say it’s better to leave wanting more. She wanted to stay in the Netherlands longer.

I see the reasoning behind that, but generally I like to be really, really sure that I’m done with something before I leave. With the majority of cities I went to on this trip I was absolutely left wanting more which went against my usual approach. It’s nice to know that I can always come back. There’s always so much more to do! I could have definitely used a few more days to explore and hang out in Munich and Pullach. I had an unbelievably amazing weekend courtesy of Philipp and I did so much more than I was expecting. However, I do really like Munich and Pullach and I wish I could have stayed a little bit longer. I’ll just have to come back! 

Pullach and Munich are so pretty in the Fall. I can’t get over how pretty the leaves are when they change colors! While I love California, the changing seasons is definitely something I miss. Pullach is one of the homes of mine that I have to say goodbye to often, but that I get the opportunity to visit often as well, which is nice. It’s nice to have an excuse to go back to Germany. There are times when I get homesick for being there! I like to visit whenever I get the chance. Visiting places usually doesn’t satiate my appetite for them, it just leaves me wanting more. I have a fascination with the idea and definition of home. I guess everyone has a definition that suits them best. I’ve lived in five places so far in my life and I would definitely consider four of them home, with varying degrees of homeness. I feel ties to certain places. The homes have changed over time, and some I probably couldn’t move back to just because they wouldn’t feel as much like home anymore. It’s usually the people that make a place, so once others move away it feels less like home. I’m still figuring out my definition of home. I still love visiting all of them though. I can be a very nostalgic person, and I like to indulge in that from time to time. 

Hopefully I can come back to Pullach soon. 

I then caught the S Bahn to the airport and continued my journey to another city I used to call home.