Royal residence with amazing gopher holes in the lawn.
The bus tour concluded at the Hofbrauhaus, where Dad, John, and I stayed while Peggy and Teresa went museuming. Truly a wonderful time we had sitting there with beer and strudel and soup, talking and watching the goings-on, which included an oom-pah band (quartet, really) playing periodically; a gentleman customer in traditional garb who sat an drank beer while one tourist after another sat with him for a picture; and the clichéd but awesome spectacle of dirndl-clad waitresses effortlessly hefting eight full beer glasses at a time.
John and Dad took a cab back while I walked around the suddenly sunny city in delight. Another weissbier may have been consumed. Also more soup.
Although in English people say "Christmas Market", it's really Christkindlesmarkt: Christ Child Market, referring to the angel making the announcement. So each town has a contest to choose a local girl to be the Christmas angel who opens the market at the beginning of Advent.
The sainted Hofbrauhaus in the distance. Did you know Mozart wrote some operas while sitting there? That's what he said, anyway.
In the evening, we had dinner at a biergarten in the fancier hotel across the street that I had scoped out the previous day. It was a nice meal, featuring great conversation with Dad about current events and about being a migrant himself. The only problem was that our beers took forever to arrive because the waitress neglected to put in the order for some time. After we finished up and were ready to leave...
ReplyDeleteWaitress: Can I get you anything to make up for forgetting your beers? Maybe some Schnapps?
John: No.
Teresa: No.
Peggy: No.
Dad: No.
Me: Yes.
Waitress: How many?
Me: Five.
So she brought us five Schnappseses. After 10 minutes, no one had had any but me, and I was concerned that it would be a rough night. But after 20 minutes, they were all gone somehow, and I only had my own! All agreed that digestion was indeed improved as advertised. Sometimes I have a good idea.