Catching up with Robert in Munich

We cross the border back into Germany again, and I’m amazed to see all the solar panels on the roofs of the houses. I read in the Herald that Germany’s GHG emissions are down 20% from the 1990s, and with their focus on wind and solar I can see why. Meanwhile, NZ’s emissions are up 110% over the same period. I know NZ’s emissions are small by world standards, but if we don’t start playing our part we’ll become the pariahs of the international community, possibly with sanctions imposed. About time we started getting our act together with an effective carbon tax and incentives to increase renewables. More cycle lanes would help too.

It was last summer, and I was just paddling my kayak back from an unsuccessful fishing expedition when I heard a motorbike pull up close to our tent at Kawhia. In no time Robert was sharing a beer with us, asking about the DRZ and Freeride, and recounting stories of his adventure travels through NZ on his rented DR650. He was going on to Auckland via Raglan the following day, so I suggested we ride the Whaanga Coast road together and have lunch in the Raglan pub. We could even do a little beach ride before we set off. “A beach ride? You mean you can ride on the beaches here? We can’t possibly do that in Germany!”. Robert was incredulous, but I reassured him that yes indeed in some places we could.

The following morning we dropped onto the beach at Kawhia, rounded the point, and went as far to the entrance to Aotea Harbour as we dared before the rocks got unmanageable. We stopped for photos at the Te Puia hot water beach section. Robert snapped away. “My friends back home are never going to believe this!”. Retracing our steps we set off for Raglan, and recounting the beach ride and wonderful views from the coast road, Robert said, “Well, if you ever come to Europe, you must get in touch and come and stay with me in Munich”.

Pauline and I don’t need much persuading.

We stash our bags at the Hbf and set out to explore the town, with the Pinakothek der Moderne first on the agenda. Some interesting iconic design exhibits for me. More artistic inspiration for Pauline. Perhaps we might see a change in style when she gets back home.

Long ago Munich got rid of all the cars from the centre of town,

and it’s now a fantastic pedestrian area with with people milling around the classy shops and looking at the animated Christmas displays in the shop windows.

Even the big kids are fascinated!

Robert meets us at the Hbf and guides us through the subway system to his apartment. We have a great Bavarian dinner at a local restaurant with his friends Herbert and Maria, talk about their adventure riding trip to Morocco, and drink way too much beer.

So what shall we do tomorrow? It’s late autumn and the weather’s a bit dodgy for Neuschwanstein, Berchtesgarten or Eagles Nest.

Well, up on FrankfurterRing there are the major KTM and BMW motorcycle dealerships, and just down the road from there is BMW Welt. With a couple of KTMs of his own (690 Enduro R and 450 EXC) Robert’s more than happy to take us up there in his Audi Quattro and have a browse himself.

Ah - merchandising opportunities we didn’t get at Mattighofen, including some cute stuff for my imminent grandson.

 

Couldn’t quite fit the little KTM bike into our suitcase though.

Pauline’s rather taken by a classic sports BMW, but it doesn’t have a pillion seat.

 

Guess she’ll just have to ride it on her own.

Saturday night and we’re shouting Robert out to dinner - authentic Bavarian. First stop of course is the Hofbrauhaus for a beer. After last night’s effort, Pauline and I choose to share our one litre stein, while Robert has one for himself. He can put it away, that lad! The brass band starts up, the table next door starts singing football songs, and the environment is getting more conducive to bonhomie and less to conversation.

 

We do manage a few words with a Turkish couple at the end of our table, and reflect on the fact that a hundred years ago our ancestors were shooting at each other at Anzac Cove, and it’s good we’re now friends. We say goodbye to them with a hug - the Hofbrauhaus is that sort of place.

We move on to a quieter Mini-Hofbraushaus for a late dinner. Our last chance for schnitzel, pork knuckle, and of course more alcohol than we need. Our train leaves early in the morning, and I sense I’m going to be a bit under the weather at 6.30am.

But a shower and a sip on Pauline’s cup of tea helps. Robert runs us to the station, and in my finest Deutsch ich sage, “Vielen dank fur Ihre wunderbare gastfreundschaft”. Robert and his mates know they’re welcome in Birkenhead any time.

It’s sad to be leaving our German-speaking countries. It’s the European language I know best, and both Pauline and I are increasing our vocabulary and starting to understand the day to day interactions we encounter in the shops, restaurants, cafes and trains. We have competitions with each other to pick times of arrival and departure at stations, which side of the train to get off, and which platform we need. We’re both pretty good at ordering coffee and filled rolls now. The danger comes when the waiter or shop assistant thinks we’re more proficient in German than we are. “Langsamer bitte! Sprechen Sie Englisch?”.

But now we’re heading for Italy, the last European country on our tiki tour, and an opportunity to reconnect where our last trip ended three years ago. The train climbs higher and higher through Garmisch-Partenkirchen into the Tyrolean Alps, and we get some great views at Seefeld before dropping down into Innsbruck. The train tunnels through the hills, while the adjacent icy road has an endless number of switchbacks. I want to come back in summer on a bike! The mountains have a light dusting of snow, and in some places the season has started already. A bit cold for biking. Robert’s off skiing in Austria next week.

It’s too long a journey to travel directly to Venice, so after a few difficulties booking accommodation in Innsbruck we’ve decided to transit through and carry on to Bolzano in Italy. It’s snowing lightly as we cross the border and change at Brennero. 

 Good call. Bolzano is a nice little town, and our accommodation looks good. But then, this is Italy. We leave German logic and efficiency behind, and prepare to embrace the special Italian way of doing things, of how things work, or not as more often the case may be.

Auf wiedersehen Germany and Austria, ciao Italy. Another data error - that’s all I know. Better brush up on my Italian.