There was a talk of war a few weeks before my trip, but there have always been talks of war. The inherent itch in mankind to seek trouble, to covet what is not theirs and plant flags to establish dominance, to find peace dull and surrender to the flow that has blighted mankind over the ages.
As I sat at the wonder Cathay Pacific lounge in Narita airport breaking news notifications lit up my cellphone screen. There was a war underway and it probably was happening in a region I would be flying over in a few hours.
My plane took off a bit later than scheduled, a change of flights at Hong Kong and I was flying towards the battle zone. I watched the flight path on my monitor, assured that the airlines would not fly over the affected area but also with trepidation, battle zones are not constant, they expand, they shrink and occasionally they explode.
I monitored my monitor, relieved that the flight path was to the north of the battle-zone and dozed off once the plane crossed the area. It was still dark outside when I landed in Frankfurt and prepared myself for the interrogation from the immigration.
The lady at the counter looked at my passport and then at my face, a puzzled frown briefly flashed across her face.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked
‘Berlin’
‘Will you take a train’?
‘Yes!’
I have taken the train from Frankfurt airport to the Train station a few times over the years, but have never understood what ticket to buy. I always go through a few iterations before finding the right ticket.
As I stood confused in front of the ticket machine, an older German man approached me.
‘Where do you want to go’?he asked jovially, the accent heavy and harsh.
When I explained he helped me choose the right destination, told me were to tap my card and walked away.
I arrived at the station around 90 minutes before departure and found my way to the Coffee Fellows, the cafe located inside the train station. There is a seating area shared by a few restaurants located in the same hall and was relatively empty when I walked in.
The place filled up, a family of hikers with their rucksacks, a few others like me making their way from the airport with large bags and then there were the solitary readers, a coffee and a book and no other baggage.
In the past years I have taken a walk outside the station, the occasional draft that would blow in with the opening of the doors making the place cold and uncomfortable. The early spring Sun outside seemed warmer at times.
My seat was strategically located, away from the doors and even though it was sunny and warm outside, the temptation to step outside did not arise.
The memories of the previous year when I went to warm myself in the morning Sun but saw people behaving erratically under the influence of substance, others going around asking people for money and the overall feeling of destitution and despair kept the temptations of the outdoors under check.
I waited till it was close to departure and bought a sandwich for lunch and headed over to the platform. The railway platforms are divided into section by alphabet and the departure board displays the section your carriage will stop. There is a gap of around ten metres between each alphabet, indicated by a board, and the exact point where the carriage will stop cannot be judged accurately.
I held a large suitcase, along with a smaller cabin one and a camera bag, I missed the mark by a few metres and had to walk a few metres to the door. There are no luggage racks in this first class compartment, though I did find luggage racks in the 2nd class carriages in Austria.
I settled into my side seat, not before I lifted the 22 kgs heavy suitcase to place it in an overhead rack. The process of lifting a heavy suitcase, the rotation of should goes through a point where the hands falter for a brief second, the lady sitting opposite me, alarmed reached out to support in case the suitcase fell. It did not, we exchanged smiles and I settled in.
The train passes through small town and villages, landscape starting to turn lush green in the early stages of spring, the vines are still bare. Stables are strewn across the countryside and occasionally one catches sight of white horses in lush green fields. The horses stand alone, there are no people around and there is something majestic in that sight.
They gallop around, there are no hinderances, nothing to stop them, the lush green fields that surround them, despite the stark winter landscape all around, seem to add to the moment, that freedom to gallop around, without burdens, without obstacles, no jockeys to steer them on a course! Those fleeting glimpses of the majestic horses would stay with me.
The cars cruising along narrow country roads are sometimes the only sign of people being around, there is hardly anyone out, the day being a Sunday possibly contributing to absence of humans. I did see a group of kids by a creek and a toddler with the mother playing in a deserted park.
Berlin came, I lifted down my suitcase, the downward trajectory easily traversed than the upward one. The escalators at the platform were not working and I had to wait for the elevator, there was no order in the people lining up and it was a free for all the moment the doors opened.
I found a taxi near the Europlatz exit, the driver scoffing at my warning of the suitcase being heavy
‘Ha’ he said as he lifted it put it in the trunk.
‘Do you take card’ I asked
‘I prefer cash’ he answered.
‘Are you here for ITB ‘ he asked, naming the event that I came to attend.
I reached the hotel, checked in and was ready for sightseeing after a quick shower and a shave. Over the years I have visited the Holocaust memorial, then walking to the Brandenburg Gate and CheckPoint Charlie. These are sites worth visiting at least once but after a few years there is little new in these spots.
There is a sense of peace at the Holocaust memorial, an abstract work consisting of 2711 grey cement slabs of varying sizes. There is a sense of isolation roaming inside the slabs, the early late winter evening hour making it even more solemn, the darkness gradually enveloping the place and the lights on the memorial adding to the sombre mood.
However this year my plan was to visit the Oberbraumbruckle, the bridge that served as a crossing between East and West Germany. It is a popular meeting place now and young people crowd the bridge, a drink in hand talking and watching the river and the flow of people.
There were clouds hovering near the sun as I arrived at the Schleilsisches Tor station and walked towards the bridge. The evening was still warm, the crowds sparse as I took pictures on the bridge, crossing it and climbing down the stairs towards the Spree river and taking a few more pictures.
Beer bottles were strewn around the stairs along with discarded food boxes and cups. I stepped gingerly between the trash strewn steps, surprised at the mess and went through all the vantage points to take pictures.
The setting sun disappeared between the clouds and there was no more sunlight left to take pictures of. I walked around looking for more vantage points, looking for another elevated spot with a view of the river and a hope that the Sun would reappear behind the clouds. I walked around aimlessly the roads confusing and the Sun did not appear and after a while I gave up and headed back.
People sat outside restaurants some drinking beer out of bottles, others coffee and I was tempted to stop, but I still wasn’t done with photography! The U train passed over a park built around a church and I made a mental note on my way over to stop by for a picture of the Church on my way back.
I climbed the stair to the platform and started exploring other options for photography and when on the train forgot to get down at the next station for the park.
The next few days were occupied by work, an event that I needed to speak at and then ITB the largest travel show in the world at Messe Berlin. The last day of the show I checked out of my hotel in the morning, returned after attending the show in the evening, changed into my casual clothes for an overnight trip to Vienna.
The escalators still did not work at the Berlin station as I looked for a way to get to my platform, I waited for the elevator, alone this time, not in a crowd that would push its way in from all directions.
The train arrived and as I got into the carriage I realised I did not know my seat number. The ticket was in German and I could discern the carriage number but not the seat.
A man walked his way around my suitcase in the alley to get to his seat, he was the sole occupant and I decided to ask him. He looked at my ticket and pointed out my seat number in an American accent and it turned out I was sitting next to him!
He was pleasant, smiling and cracking jokes a few times till he spilled his drink and got flustered. He recovered as the train started, passengers moving into other seats.
A few minutes after the train started he found another seat that was adjacent to an empty one and moved there, leaving me with an empty seat next to me.
‘Cheers’, he flashed a smile as he moved to the other seat.
His mood had recovered!
A older lady, possibly in her 80s took a seat and a few moments later a group of young girls came in. The seat was theirs and they tried to explain to the older lady who seemed oblivious.
’There is a seat number, this is our seat’, the girls said in English!
The older lady smiled and did not answer and did not move.
Th ticket checker came, the girls explained the situation, but the ticket checker had other problems.
A man sat a few rows behind me and did not have a ticket. The ticket checker asked him to buy a ticket and he refused.
Around 30 minutes later at one of the stops, police came into the train and escorted the older lady out. But the ticketless traveler was unmoved.
The police waited around for a while, checked his passport, asked him questions but he still was not willing to buy a ticket. The police left and the train started moving. The ticket checker came back with a colleague, a female one, and they spent a long time talking to the adamant free spirit and it looked like they finally issued him a ticket.
I wasn’t sure whether he paid for the ticket, but he got off at Prague and the drama in my carriage ended!
I had not booked a sleeper coach, these were normal seat and they did not recline. When I booked my tickets, I assumed I had reclining seats and web searches through up a few options on how the seats would look like, but non reclining seats was not one of them.
The journey was not comfortable, however I had an empty seat besides mine and made the best use of it. The train stopped almost every hour, a few short stops but there was a longer one at XXXX where they separated the carriages that were headed to XXXX.
I slept in fits, a group of youth a few rows ahead talked, laughed and played games till late night. Then they changed, the guys stripping to their underwear in the carriage and changing to pyjamas, the girls a bit more modest and heading to the toilets to change.
I woke up at daylight as the train streaked into the Austrian plains, clouds masking the sunrise and a few hours later we were in Vienna. I got down at the station, found a Dunkin Donuts at the station for my breakfast and tried to identify the shortest path to get to my hotel.
Google Maps showed the hotel to be a 5 minute walk and walking on the concourse a few times I found the exit and had to pass the tram station, cross the road to reach the hotel. I realised later in the day there was another exit which did not require me to cross the road.
There were a few restaurants, a Billa supermarket and a Kebab shop nearby. My expectations of the hotel were limited, the online reviews were not positive but I was in for a surprise.
I entered the lobby, greeted the lady behind the counter and asked if I could get an early check-in. She smiled, checked my passport and asked me to wait for a few minutes.
‘I think I can make something work for you’ she said cheerily after a few minutes.
Five minutes later I had a room key in my hand and was on my way to the room. The hotel is old, there are a few steps to climb before you reach the elevator. The elevator is old with collapsible scissor gates for the car and a manual hinge door to close afterwards.
I struggled with my bags but was able to get in with two other passenger and reach my floor. The room was basic yet comfortable. I slept in fits on the train and was sleepy and hit the bed within a few minutes.
I had a two hour nap and a quick shower later was ready to explore Vienna. The travel guides mention Old City Tour as the main attraction. The starting point of the tour is from the Stephanplatz Cathedral.
My train ticket from Berlin to Vienna had the option of buying a one day local transportation ticket of Vienna at a discount. I bought the ticket and had the option of unlimited traveling on the Vienna subway for the day. I headed out to the Vienna station to take the U train to Stephanplatz.
It was a perfect spring weather, the day sunny and warm and as I came out of the exit at the Stephanplatz station. It was noon time and the area was crowded, the seating at the restaurants gradually filling up, people lining up a the food stalls.
It was a glorious day to sit outside and eat, but I had a lot to cover and was lacking a plan. The area is called the cultural heart of Vienna and the Cathedral described as a ‘Gothic Masterpiece’ is the centre or kilometre zero.
A Coca Cola billboard stands above a Money Changer shop and the cathedral looms tall behind these modern and materialistic institutions. The crowds sit at all available seating, warming themselves in the sunshine. Pedicab drivers call out to the tourists offering transportation for those not willing to walk.
Victorian style horse drawn carriages circled around and the absence of equine poop puzzled me. But the cathedral looked majestic and any thoughts on refuse disposal techniques were drowned out by the sheer majesty of the buildings around me!
The gothic style of the cathedral to the ‘Baroque’ style of the buildings around it, the green and yellow facades around the square gave a surreal feeling as I walked around.
‘Vienna is beautiful’ I was told by anyone I spoke to about visiting this city and the few minutes spent at the Stephanplatz square reaffirmed everything I was told.
Mozart dominates as the theme around this area, there are shops named after him and the walking tour includes a visit to his apartment located near the cathedral.
The Hofburg palace, Albertina Gallery and the dome of the Michaelertor suddenly appears near Michaelplatz. I headed back to Stephanplataz square and decide to take an excursion bit further off. The one day pass covered all modes of transport across Vienna and encouraged me to step outside the Stephanplatz area.
The U1 train takes you to Nestroyplatz from where it is around a 15 minute walk to a museum. The path went over the Donaukanal after which one walked towards narrow streets before the museum came into view. The Museum was designed by an artist Friedensreich Hundertwasser, described as an environmental visionary. The museum is a collection of his work a combination of art and architecture.
The museum houses a cafe on the ground floor and I stopped by for a coffee and the famous Viennese Apple Strudel. The cafe has colourful ceramics and an uneven floor with mosaic patterned tiles. The espresso and Apple Strudel took a bit of time but I needed some rest after walking over the last few hours.
Satiated, I headed back to my hotel for a short rest before heading back to Sptehanplatz for some evening photography. The bright and bustling area of the morning turns into a well lit and tastefully illuminated square that was still bustling area in the evening.
The afternoon lunch crowds had disappeared and the restaurants were less crowded. Light reflected on the reds, blue and green outside of the buildings and the crowds now bundled up in warm clothes added to the charm.
I spent another hour walking past the cathedral, the Michaelertor dome and rued not carrying a tripod. My ISO settings on the camera were turned up, the slow shutter speeds creating blurs and went about capturing the beauty of the Gothic and Baroque architecture of Vienna.
I slept for a few hours the night before, a quick morning nap had refreshed me but tiredness was catching up and I headed back to the hotel to turn in early for my trip the next days.
Vienna is around 2 hours by train from Budapest and I planned to take a train to the Hungarian capital but found a few options of taking a van tour that would cover Bratislava, the capital of Slovakia in addition to Budapest.
‘Getyourguide’ a popular tours and activities site offered such tours and I was scheduled to be picked up at 8 next morning. I slept early, woke up early and headed to the lobby for my breakfast that started at 07:00.
There was a man at the reception and he seemed to be berating a couple of Chinese girls. I could not understand the reason but he started a conversation with me when I asked for the breakfast cost and starting time.
‘I know we don’t have the best of facilities but we try to do our best’ he said.
I assumed that was related to the conversation he was having with the girls.
‘But sometimes people do not inform us and expect too much’, he continued.
I assured him that I did not have any complaints with the facilities and the level of service that I received at the hotel.
He said something which I have forgotten now but it meant to convey that it was not often that people complemented them on the service.
He continued with a story of someone who booked a room for a single person but then bought along a companion and expected a separate bed to be provided, even though he had given no prior information of the additional occupant.
I sympathised with this situation, went off for my breakfast and waited for the driver of the tour van to arrive. The driver had messaged earlier that he would be there by 7:30, and I had no problems with that as I was ready. But then I had my situation.
The driver messaged me that he was outside the hotel at 7:20, I had just finished my breakfast and told him I would be down in 5 minutes and when I went outside there was no van!
For the next 30 minutes the driver and me tried to locate each other, he was obviously at a different location even though he had the address and I walked up and down the street trying to look for the van.
Finally after 30 minutes, exchanging each other’ location multiple times, we found each other on the street a bit further than my hotel.
‘You keep moving, I cannot locate you’, he said accusingly.
‘So do you’ I shot back.
But after 30 minutes of walking on that street I was on the van and on my way, there were 4 other picks ups and the driver headed to each of the hotels, this time finding the correct pick up spot. There was an American, two Britishers, a Latvian, a Singaporean and two other Indians in the tour.
The two Indians were doctors attending a radiology conference, the Latvian was an X-ray technician attending the same conference, the Singaporean was on a business trip and the others were tourists.
The Indians spoke one of the languages I could speak and we ended up conversing in Kannada! It seemed strange to travel thousands of kilometres and end up in a tour group where some of the people spoke what was my ‘mother tongue’.
The van sped across the Austrian border, passing through the Czech republic before entering Slovakia. We passed checkpoints on the border, rather the buildings that stood around the checkpoints, there were no checks and one could travel across the borders.
Europe or rather the EU has been a wonder in the fact that they implemented and maintained free and unchecked flow across the borders. I expected Hungary to have some checks, especially with the immigrant unfriendly government at the power but there was nothing.
The rise of the right wing across continents will test this free flow of humans across borders, countries continue to tighten the restrictions and there is a justification in doing that. Lives are lost in unsafe voyages across the sea, people drown or die of thirst and exhaustion and unless restrictions are imposed innocents will die or get exploited by ruthless people traffickers and even if they cross the borders, end up in illegal, low paying and unsafe jobs.
There is idealism and there is practicality and a mixture of both is needed to restore order, the sense of that loss of which fuels the rise of hate across the globe, fuelling the tyrants’ rise and the only way to stop this growth is to take back control.
I did not have these heavy thoughts in my head as our driver parked the van at the underground parking at Bratislava castle. We came out of the parking and the driver, who also served as the tour guide explained the history of the castle.
The castle stands on a rocky hill of the Little Carpathian( a mountain range in Slovakia) above the Danube river. We arrived a sunny Saturday morning, there was a wind blowing on the hill top, it was still early in the morning so there was a chill in the air. But the sunshine warmed us as we set out to explore the castle grounds.
The castle was originally built in the 9th century and was known as the Pressberg Castle it was a place of residence to the Celtic kings before the arrival of the Slavs. It became one of the central castles of Hungary under King Stephen. It withstood the Mongolian attacks of the 13th century. The castle changed hands over wars fought over the centuries till it became the seat of the surviving Hungarian empire after the Turkish invasions.
It was destroyed in a fire in 1811 and lay in ruins till restoration work was started in 1957 that finally was completed in 2011, prolonged by the political uncertainties and the subsequent upheavals that came with the break of Czechoslovakia.
The castle was the site of signing of the Slovak constitution inSeptember 3, 1992 giving a place of prominence in the history of one of the younger countries in the world.
We didn’t have enough time to visit the museum inside the castle and were limited to exploring the grounds, the statues and memorials spread around and the vantage points it offered for taking pictures of the city of Bratislava.
The pathway was paved with bricks, the walls made of mortar and stone, it is important to remember that the castle and the surroundings were rebuilt from the 1950s. So most of what we see is not ancient.
The Crown Tower however was not rebuilt recently and has been standing since the 13th century, there are a few other towers that were built in the 17th century and are different in styles of construction. The terrace around castle provides views of the Danube river and the old town.
The old town was our next stop and our driver guide gave everyone 30 minutes to roam around the castle grounds, the gardens and the terrace overlooking the town. Most of the group assembled at the time, there were a few stragglers busy with taking self portraits against the stunning background.
Once everyone came back and assembled, we all walked down to the underground parking and made our way to the Bratislava old town. Bratislava is the one of the smallest national capitals in Europe and by the looks of it possibly in the world.
Our driver parked the van at the Fontana Carlton and gave us a quick introduction of the city before walking us to Michael’s gate and the Bratislava City Museum that gave a history of the city. There was a photo display and a model of the city and a weapon display.
There were a few souvenirs for sale at the counter, a polite lady who looked in encouragingly but did not pressure you into buying the souvenirs.
The driver/guide then gave us 90 minutes to roam around the city and sent us a few helpful pointers over WhatsApp. I stepped inside a souvenir shop, wanting to get that out of the way but did not find anything worth buying. Then I remember the souvenir counter and the polite lady.
I headed back to the museum, bought a model of Michael’s gate, paying in coins that the lady helped me in sorting out and heading back to exploring the city.
The first stop was the St Martin’s cathedral around a 10 minute walk from the city centre and located on the western edge of the town. There was some construction going on in the cathedral and green tarp covered some of the walls. There were only a few tourists around and I walked around the cathedral taking pictures. I could tick the Cathedral off my list but there wasn’t too much to see there.
There is a history associated with this place, coronations have taken place over the centuries, royalty is buried here but the structure is plain. The remarkable feature is the green coloured 85 meter spire visible from around the city.
I had another 45 minutes to meet the group and the Blue Church was around 20 minutes walk away, located in the eastern side of the town. The choice was between sitting at a cafe, having a relaxed beer, or heading to the Church. I chose the latter and walked across the old town through its narrow pebbled lanes, the highway roaring close by, small cafes and restaurants with their enticing outdoor seating!
The Blue Church was blue in colour, which was not surprising , but it was closed. I had to contend with taking pictures on the outside, the blue colour standing out against the surroundings. It is officially known as the Church of St Elisabeth of Hungary, but is popularly known after the colour of its facade. Even the tiles on top of the Church are coloured in blue.
The Church was built in the early twentieth century and designed by a Hungarian architect Edward Lechner, who also designed the nearby Grammar School. The style if supposed to be ‘Hungarian Secessionist Architecture’, the description puzzled me till I did some research and realised that it meant a break from the traditional and conservative European style to a more modern Nationalistic style.
There were a few others, disappointed at finding the Church closed, looking at the Church from the outside. The narrow streets around the Church are towered over by the surrounding buildings, there are a few built in the olden style architecture, I assumed a few of them were designed by Lechner, there was the Grammar school nearby but I could not recognise it or distinguish it from the others.
I had 30 minutes before the designated time when our guide/driver would pick us up and I had a 20 minutes walk ahead of me. I walked back along the same path, the day was still sunny and I was thirsty!
I looked for a vending machine or a convenience store and surprisingly Bratislava city centre seemed lacking in both. I could not even find a super market anywhere. There was however a McDonald’s near the city centre square.
There wasn’t enough time to explore the area so I settled at buying an overpriced bottle of water from McDonald’s. I came back to the square, joined the Latvian medical technician on the bench and waited for the others to assemble, quenching my thirst from the small water bottle.
The other members of the tour group started tricking in, a few came late, having made their way to the Blue Church and were not as time conscious as me. The guide/driver bought the van out, parking it in the square, and distributed bottles of water and cookies. I still had the overpriced bottle of McDonald’s water in my hands and looked at ruefully!
The next stop was Budapest and we drove without a stop straight into Budapest. The plan was to arrive early in the afternoon, roam around the city centre and have lunch there. We drove non-stop, some of the group taking a mid-afternoon nap, the conversation largely dying out. The British couple behind me were warming up to the American lady and were talking about TV shows and books.
We arrived in Budapest late afternoon, the holiday traffic was building up and made out way to the Heroes Square Car Park located in the basement. Our group made our way out, stopping for a toilet break located in the car park. The guide/driver gave a brief history of the square, pointed out the states to us, told us our pick up time and let us roam on our own.
The highlights of walk around the park is The Column with a statue of the Archangel Gabriel at its top, the base of the column has a statue of the seven chieftains who are believed to have unified the Magyar people into the Hungarian nation.
it would take a few hours to walk around the park, understand what each of the statues stand for and explore the buildings around the park. We had 30 minutes within which the guide wanted to to take us to a walk around the Danube river.
As we walked hurriedly along, a few of the group got left behind, waiting for them was a waste of time so the guide told them about the assembly point and time and moved ahead.
There is a memorial called ‘Shoes on the Danube bank’. It consists of sixty pairs of shoes made out of iron and attached to the stone embankment of the Danube river. The memorial was conceived by Can Togay, a film director and the shoes were created by Gyula Pauer, a sculptor and is dedicated to the thousands of innocents, majority of whom were Jews from the Budapest Ghetto, murdered in December 1944.
The shoes are symbolic as the Hungarian Fascist Militia belonging to the Arrows Cross Party made the people take off their shoes before shooting them. The bodies would fall into the Danube and get carried down the stream, while the shoes would be collected and sold in the black market.
This was the first time I was made aware of this holocaust, the memories of my trip to Auschwitz the earlier year were still fresh and the knowledge of yet another massacre was a sombre reminder of the violence that plagued Europe during the 1940s.
There was another war happening at the time I was visiting this memorial, a girls school had been bombed a week earlier, killing hundred of young girl students, the injustice of war and the extreme human impulse of demean and devalue the lives of people they consider as ‘the other’ had not died even decades after we discovered one of the most horrific massacre of our times.
The mood was sombre as headed back towards the square, passing by other buildings of historical significance around the park. It was time for lunch and an interesting development took place.
The tour group has mixed and intermingled throughout beyond nationality and race, but when we split up into groups for lunch, we stuck to our ethnic groups. It was a bit incongruous to the spirit of the tour, but the split took place naturally. For someone like me who has lived in a foreign country close to half of my adult life and seen such withdrawal into comfort zones, the natural instinct to seek out what we know was not surprising but it was discomforting.
Though an Indian group will always be mixed and even though all three of us could speak the same language we represented two religions at our lunch table!
We were asked to assemble near the car park after 90 minutes and most of the group were there at the appointed time, there were the laggards wanting to catch one last sight of another monument.
The last part of the tour was the Buda castle, we would reach there after dark and look at the Pest part of the city across the Danube river. The Guide/Driver took the car around the curving and ascending roads, found a parking spot in one of the side alleys, gave us an overview of place and left us to explore the area and find vantage viewing points.
Cobblestone paths lead the tourists from the Mathias Church, lit up in golden hues and shooting up to a dark sky, to the Fisherman’s bastion where crowds jostled to get to vantage viewing points looking over the Pest part of the city.
There were Chinese, Korean and Japanese groups, young people out on trips. Most seemed too young to be working and I assumed some of the trips were sponsored by parents.
Tripods were set up all over the Fisherman’s Bastion, I had not brought one with me and had to rely on higher ISO settings to capture the views in the dark. The group had split up and each one was on their own, there were a few who wanted others to take pictures of them and stuck to each other till the pictures were taken.
I climbed the steps of the Fisherman’s Bastion, trying to look for empty spots, sometimes in vain, but the view of the Hungarian Parliament, the Szechenyi chain bridge and the reflections in the Danube river.
We had an hour to take this all in and had to assemble near the Mathias church before heading back. The group started assembling and a few wanted to use a toilet, there were paid public toilets around the area but the concept seemed strange and foreign to most.
So everyone headed over to the nearby Starbucks, queuing up to use the facility meant for paying customers. It was a while before everyone had their turn and we were close to 30 minutes behind schedule for our departure.
The drive back was quiet, a few taking naps, some of the group discussing books and movies, I tried to listen in and could not connect to either the books or the movies. The outside was dark, the highway lit up by the passing vehicles, an occasional border outposts and the highway stops. We did not stop, the toilet break at the Starbucks was enough for the group.
It was close to 10 PM by the time we entered Vienna, the driver stopped at a location and indicated it was my drop off. I got down and could not see my hotel and when I looked at the map on my phone my hotel was a few minutes walk away from the drop off spot!
I was booked on the morning train from Vienna to Munich, I checked out and headed to the McDonald’s at the Vienna train station, the only restaurant open at that time of the morning. I ordered a Viennese breakfast, which turned out to be a a few Viennese breads and no eggs or meat. It wasn’t something I was expecting but I put it down to my lack of knowledge of what constitutes a Viennese meal.
I boarded the train and found someone sitting on my allotted seat and as I pointed out it that I was meant to sit there the lady moved, her son explaining to her that it was my reserved seat. The seats were sparsely occupied and there was a luggage rack for my suitcases.
I had a reserved seat but not everyone in my carriage held a reserved ticket, the conductor came in a few times checked tickets, there were a few who either did not have tickets or had to make some additional purchases.
I was mostly on my own in my vestibule, the last occupant getting off at Salzburg. The passing landscape was pleasant , typical European landscape, the neat, quaint villages, rolling hills and the Alps in the background. It was a Sunday morning and very few people were up and about.
The train slowed down as we neared Salzburg and I could catch glimpses of the Baroque town, the train stopped for a few minutes, a few people got down, many more got on and we were off towards Munich.
We entered Upper Bavaria with, chalet style homes, steeple churches and the occasional family out on that Sunday morning. There was a family in the park, a toddler running about, they were alone in that bare, bleak winter stripped park!
My train passed by the Leuchtenbergring station on the way to Munich Central, I caught a glimpse of my hotel and was assured there wouldn’t be too much of a hassle in finding my hotel.
The train arrived at Munich Central Station, I found the S2 train heading to Leuchtenbergring, Google maps showed my hotel to be a 2 minute walk away from the station. I arrived at the platform and looked for an exit towards my hotel.
I looked for an escalator or an elevator as I had a heavy bag to carry and found none. There was a staircase heading down and I could see a few people lugging their baggage up the stairs. I found a flight of stairs with landing halfway, giving me a place to rest before carrying my 23 and 8 kg suitcases down.
I reached the exit and the hotel which looked like a 2 minute walk was shown as a 20 minute walk. I realised that I had come out of the wrong side of the platform and had to walk to the traffic lights, cross the road and then head to my hotel.
I mentioned this to the staff at the hotel reception.
’They don’t have an escalator at the station’I said.
The lady at the front desk agreed to give me an early check-in, my charms had obviously worked.
‘Of course they don’t have escalators’, she agreed ’that would make things convenient for people’.
I checked in, I had a good sleep the earlier night, the train journey was relaxing and I was ready to head to Munich city for sightseeing.
Marienplatz was a 10 minute ride by the S2 and as I walked back and climbed the steps to the Leuchtenbergring station platform I could appreciate the ease of access when heavy bags do not weight you down. There was a couple, possibly German, who lugged their bags up the stairs, waited for the train to the airport, realised that the train was going from the platform across the rains, carried the bags down once again and waited for the train at the other platform.
My carriage towards Marienplatz had a few British families, possibly residents heading to the city centre for sightseeing or to the Church. The kids carried their kick scooters, standing near the doors against the multi-armed grab poles in the train.
As I exited the Marienplatz station and came out to a sunny mid-day it was hard not to be accosted and overwhelmed by the architecture around me. The ’Neues Rauthas’ towered over the buildings, made you look up, squinting at the Sun and wonder if the 10 minute train ride had not carried you back few centuries.
The square in front was crowded, crowds milled around the Mariensaule column, the outdoor seats of the restaurants were occupied, families, lonely souls all sat at tables beer mugs in front of them as they chatted or looked around.
I had a breakfast at 5:30 so hunger pangs were hard to ignore. I took pictures around the square, stretching my back to photograph the spirals, walking amongst the orderly crowds. The air was cheerful, the people looked content and when you soaked in all that was around, it was a glorious morning.
I walked to Viktualienmarkt to find something to eat. I knew that the market would be closed, it is on Sundays, but was hopeful that there might be something open. I wasn’t disappointed, a restaurant that also functioned as a Grocery Store was open.
I chose my mains, sides and topped it with a beer and took it outside to eat in the Sun. Both my hands were occupied in holding the food tray and a couple entering the store held the door open for me.The crowds were sparse in the market, this being a holiday, the table next to me was occupied, a few families strolled by, cutting through the market.
One of the people at the shop counter came outside, collecting the trays and glasses from the table, saw me, smiled and said ‘Good’, giving me a thumbs up sign.
‘Good’ was an understatement to how I felt sitting there in the early spring mid-morning. The food was delicious, the beer excellent, the crowds sparse and distant, the Sun warm and there was nothing I could find to complain about and be unhappy there.
My trip a year earlier had been an unhappy one, there was disappointment, illness, injury and in the end boredom of getting stuck due to a delayed flight.
I leaned back in my chair content at the world around me, comfortable in the warm and fuzzy feeling of the beer on this glorious day under a warm early spring Sun.
The feelings increased further as I walked around the alleys, found an ice cream shop, got a cone with three flavours and sat on a bench slowly eating the dessert.
There was nothing that could dampen my spirits as I headed to the Hofgarten , described as a ‘ Renaissance-style public park located in the centre of Munich nestled between the ‘Grand Munich Residence’ and the sprawling ‘Englischer Garten’.
As I exited the Odeonsplatz, the first sight greeting me was the Theatine Church of St. Cajetan and Adelaide, known in Germany as Theatinekirche.
I did not enter the Church, there was some construction going on with scaffolding erected but walked into the grand arcades located next to the yellow Baroque style building.
There was the Feldherrnhalle , the Field Marshall’s hall and the Residenz to the right and as I walked ahead and descended a short flight of steps the ‘Bavarian State Chancellory’
The building was imposing enough for me to find a bench to lay down my camera bag and take pictures against the stark and bare late winter trees in the front of the building.
It was also one of the parts of the park that wasn’t too populated!
One of the online reviews of the building describes it as
The exterior view of the Bavarian State Chancellery in Munich stands out for its imposing combination of historic and modern architecture. The central building retains the dome and original facade of the old Bavarian Army Museum, built in 1905 in Italian Renaissance style, while the side wings, rebuilt after World War II, are made of glass and steel, integrating harmoniously with the classical structure. The whole complex is surrounded by the Hofgarten Gardens, which enhances its monumental and elegant presence in the historic city centre.
The park was teeming with people.It was a late afternoon hour, others like satiated with lunch, walked leisurely along the vast grounds of the park. They stopped to take pictures, walked and chased their pets, there were the young, the very young, the old and some very old.
Children shouted, dogs yelped, the parents laughed as they took pictures, some settling themselves down in the middle of the park, there was a sense of harmony in the sounds that radiated throughout the park.
The park is described as
Crisp Symmetry: The garden is designed on a strict geometric grid. Eight wide, straight gravel paths radiate outward like spokes from a single central point.
Manicured Greenery: Neat, low-trimmed boxwood hedges line the paths, framing vibrant, seasonally planted flowerbeds and manicured square lawns.
Stately Borders: White-and-blue painted wooden benches sit under rows of perfectly sculpted mulberry and chestnut trees, offering shaded resting spots.
There is a network of paths, multiple bridges and a stream flowing through the park.
I walked to the centre of the park, the pavilion is described as the ‘Diana Temple’. The place was crowded, people sat on the grass, families with picnic baskets, children playing games and the younger crowd taking selfies or pictures of each other.
I had to wait for the path to clear allowing me to take a picture of the Bavarian State Chancellory, the view from far supplemented by the pathways, the neatly trimmed hedges and the bare trees.
West of the park is the much larger and expansive Englischer Garten, but the winter sun was setting and I wanted to head back to Marienplatz, there was the unfinished business of climbing St Peter cathedral tower.
I had forgotten to climb the tower during my mid morning excursion, satiated by my lunch and morning beer. I had put it off initially, a taxing climb on a full stomach seemed unwise and as I walked further away from the square the task slipped my mind.
The calm of the mid-morning seemed to have vanished and the Marienplatz square seemed transformed into a noisy, chaotic scene. The war that I mentioned at the start of the blog, forgotten in those brief hours of tranquil, had resurfaced, there were demonstrations against the war going on at the square.
There was a counterprotest, a group of women protesting the rapes of the October 7th atrocity. The two groups faced each other, a few feet separating them, police occupying most of that space!
There was no peace here, the protestors shouted, the tones shrill and rising, the counter protestors were silent but their eyes spoke, anger and hate spewed, words were not necessary.
My sense of calm was shattered, the buoyant sensation that carried me through the day was gone, the peace of the morning had come down with a resounding crash, a war fought thousands of kilometres away, events of the past still weighed down on this seemingly peaceful square.
The police was gathered all around, positioning themselves strategically, not too close but not too far, except for the tiny sliver of pavement that separated two opposing viewpoints.
But there was no time to dwell, I had a tower to climb, the physical satiation of the afternoon and the emotional exuberance were gone, there were 306 steps separating me and the the platform at the top of the cathedral and a 360 degree view of Munich.
I paid the 5 Euro fee to the lady occupying a small booth at the entrance and entered. The stairwell is narrow and not symmetrical, it is a hodgepodge of straight, winding, wooden, stone stairs, there are points wide enough for only a single person, and you need to step aside or squeeze yourself against the wall to let someone descending pass.
I had a heavy camera backpack but 306 stairs was not too challenging, I reached the top slightly out of breath. It was cold at that height on the early evening hour. There was a fair crowd at the top, I had to wait my turn to get to the vantage corner spots for a view of the city.
There were clouds in the sky and the Sun was partially visible, but the view was worth the climb. Even at this height, 56 meters above ground, the voices of the demonstrators were audible. I could see groups marching out of the square.
After descending the steps, coming out of the exit, I walked across the square and the crowds were gone. The demonstrators had dispersed with the setting sun, they would probably take the subway or the trams back, rivals sharing the same transportation.
All was not quiet, there was a band getting ready to perform, a stage had been set up, some of the crew still wore symbols of the side they had taken in the demonstration, the disquiet was not over yet.
I had more important things on my mind, I had to seize the day, prevent the discord witnessed over the last hour from squeezing out any of the bliss and joy of this wonderful city, country and all that I had imbibed over the last three days.
Zum Franziskaner did not disappoint, there was a table available, the service took some time, the waiters spent time chatting with each other, the older gentleman serving my table took his time, did not like being reminded by a younger waiter, but a few minutes delay was something I was willing to put up with.
Two large mugs of Lowenbrau Original, a bowl of Semolina dumplings and to top it off, Apple Strudel with cream and the warm fuzzy feeling of the morning at the Viktualienmarkt was back.
I went back to my hotel, headed out the next morning, dragging my suitcase up the flight of steps, got on a crowded train to Munich airport, the train stopped in the middle to deal with signalling issues, but I was well within time.
The immigration person looked at my passport, my face and asked
‘Where did you travel within Germany?’
I knew he wouldn’t have asked the question if my face matched my passport, but the person at the Cathay Pacific check-in counter told me I was getting a complementary upgrade, and any unnecessary but expected question at the immigration was not going to spoil my mood.
When the rear door of my car wouldn’t lock near the parking at Narita Airport, I reminded myself that the irritants that poke you cannot take away your joys because the joy that overwhelms you cannot be lost!
The glorious days in Vienna and Bratislava, the beauty of Budapest at night, the placid joy of roaming around Munich on a Sunday overwhelmed everything that would come in the way.
My mind went back to the sights, fleeting yet etched into my memory, the white horses in the green fields! The weather was bright and clear that day, but across the world war clouds gathered, even those who weren’t in the geographical proximity had been sucked in!
But there was a bliss in my trip, despite what happened all around, the mind galloped like those white horses, their hooves trotting over the green landscape, there was a bare winter all around but it did not matter in that moment.
Spring would be there soon, the flowers would bloom, the dark clouds would dissipate or dissolve into rain. The joys were still there, we just need to gather them, grip them, hold on to them and not let go!
