Top floor can have its advantages, for starters it quiet, some door bangers, but the Italian school group who have been running riot cannot be heard.
I sleep pretty well.
I must say, in spite of 6 days walking, the 10 flights of stair are arduous.
The YHA puts on breakfast-not bad really and I am out of there. The directions to the Underground get me to the station, and the train gets me into the centre of the city.
I emerge into the daylight, and just can't orientate myself. I'm at Hauptbanhof it just doesn't look like it did yesterday.
Anyway got my gyro swinging properly and head off around the town centre.
I am looking for the Tourist Information Centre to books some trips, yet they don't open till ten.
Marienplatz has the famous Munich clock that performs, with figures in the tower playing a carillon. BUT only twice a day and not at 10.00AM.
I book a "Hop On Hop Off" tour for today, an Origins of the National Socialist Party Walking tour for tomorrow and a trip to Berchtesgaten on Monday, though the Eagles Nest is unlikely to be open yet, too early in the season. So it may be the salt mines.
I also book my tickets to Brussels for Tuesday-it's been an expensive morning all up.
Munich is very flat, the highest hill being an artificial one made near the Olympic Park, from WW2 rubble.
It certainly has some very nice buildings and structures, many rebuilt since the war.
The Nymphenburg Palace, the summer residence of the Bavarian Electors is certainly grand, are are some of the Strasse and Platz with Romanesque building and fine statuary.
The BMW Museum certainly satisfied any petrol-head tendencies I had. They do really make some very attractive vehicles. Odd that one of their first should be a copy of the British Austin 7.
All of this takes most of the day, so I head back on the Underground, correct line, get off at correct station. So far so good, then emerge like the rabbit in Alice, and once again, take an age to get my bearings.I am so stressed I just have to stop for a beer which is a mistake as the pub or whatever it is reeks of tobacco.
The hostel is quiet, briefly, until the invasion of the Polish school children who must have been cooped up on the bus all day-they are LOUD.
The pictures on my Picasa Web albums
I sleep pretty well.
I must say, in spite of 6 days walking, the 10 flights of stair are arduous.
The YHA puts on breakfast-not bad really and I am out of there. The directions to the Underground get me to the station, and the train gets me into the centre of the city.
I emerge into the daylight, and just can't orientate myself. I'm at Hauptbanhof it just doesn't look like it did yesterday.
Anyway got my gyro swinging properly and head off around the town centre.
I am looking for the Tourist Information Centre to books some trips, yet they don't open till ten.
Marienplatz has the famous Munich clock that performs, with figures in the tower playing a carillon. BUT only twice a day and not at 10.00AM.
I book a "Hop On Hop Off" tour for today, an Origins of the National Socialist Party Walking tour for tomorrow and a trip to Berchtesgaten on Monday, though the Eagles Nest is unlikely to be open yet, too early in the season. So it may be the salt mines.
I also book my tickets to Brussels for Tuesday-it's been an expensive morning all up.
Munich is very flat, the highest hill being an artificial one made near the Olympic Park, from WW2 rubble.
It certainly has some very nice buildings and structures, many rebuilt since the war.
The Nymphenburg Palace, the summer residence of the Bavarian Electors is certainly grand, are are some of the Strasse and Platz with Romanesque building and fine statuary.
The BMW Museum certainly satisfied any petrol-head tendencies I had. They do really make some very attractive vehicles. Odd that one of their first should be a copy of the British Austin 7.
All of this takes most of the day, so I head back on the Underground, correct line, get off at correct station. So far so good, then emerge like the rabbit in Alice, and once again, take an age to get my bearings.I am so stressed I just have to stop for a beer which is a mistake as the pub or whatever it is reeks of tobacco.
The hostel is quiet, briefly, until the invasion of the Polish school children who must have been cooped up on the bus all day-they are LOUD.
The pictures on my Picasa Web albums
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