Germany Day 2

Germany Day Two

Nothing puts me to sleep like a six-pack of German beer and a little fourth meal—wait, is “fourth meal” a Taco Bell trademark?—schnitzel.

Our first castle of the trip wasn’t just any castle; it was Nymphenburg Palace. The place was filled with impeccably maintained apartments once occupied by the old royal family. King Ludwig, it turns out, was a bit of a player. The guy had an entire room dedicated to portraits of his 32 sidepieces. I wish I could put numbers in all caps. THIRTY-TWO! There we go.

The palace was enormous. Even standing across the street, we couldn’t fit the whole structure into one picture. The gardens—front and back—were beautiful, complete with ponds full of swans. How did they manage such exclusivity? No ducks allowed.

We decided to check out a smaller structure off to the side, but some guy started yelling at us in German. This continued until my wife clarified that we only spoke English. Then he yelled at us in English. Now that’s more like it! Apparently, we weren’t allowed in there. Who knew?

To escape the situation, we had to trudge through a thick forest. Frankly, it’s amazing we didn’t get Hansel-and-Grettled.

Back at the hotel, you guessed it—full-on nap mode. Then we ventured out for lunch. One of the best beer gardens in Germany goes by the name The Chinese Tower, located in the English Garden. Englischer Garten holds the title of the largest city park in the world, even bigger than Central Park. It has attractions like an endless surfing wave (which we checked out) and a nudist colony (which we wisely avoided). The surfers at Eisbachwelle were entertaining, though. It was genuinely fun watching them wipe out.

After that, we headed to Chinesischer Turm for food and beer. I tried to order schnitzel in German. The waitress gave me a weird look—so I just pointed at the schnitzel. I also ordered spaetzle, a type of noodle. So, apparently, I was now eating German Chicken Parmesan. My wife opted for German gnocchi and the world’s largest pretzel.

We grabbed a couple of beers from yet another scowling barrel-tender, but this time, there were more options. I ordered Hofbräuhaus summer beer for our second round. This caused a minor uproar when other patrons realized they had it too—but only after I ordered it. I was unintentionally trendsetting.

While we were eating, we witnessed a woman with the worst object avoidance skills humanity has ever seen. She was wreaking havoc in the seating area, moving a table and managing to hit four chairs along the way. I probably should’ve helped, but I was lazy and wasn’t even sure I agreed with her mission. Plus—did I mention? I’m lazy.

Then, someone left a plate of fries unattended, and a murder of crows (yes, that’s the actual term for a group of crows) swooped in and started chowing down directly off the plate. Naturally, this turned into an impromptu photo-op for everyone in the beer garden. I’m glad someone else’s laziness could benefit the greater good. The Crows Have Eyes 4, anyone?

We headed back to the room, exhausted, around 6:30 pm local time. Like an old married couple, we decided it was time to enjoy each other’s company… and then promptly decided to go back out. Our friends from the previous day's free walking tour invited us to what was possibly the furthest place in the city. But they were buying, so how could we say no? We took a train and then walked six blocks.

We started crushing Italian wine at Natraj, an Indian restaurant in Germany. Classic. This time, our friends had a new friend with them—a French giant. They introduced him as a giant, so I assume he's fine with the term. We met him while he was sitting down, and I was immediately suspicious. My face gave me away when someone said, “He’s two meters tall.”

I immediately said, “Isn’t a meter like a yard? Well, I’m 6’2, so that’s more than 2 yards. So I’m 2 meters tall.” That incorrect statement was enough to make him stand up. Turns out, a meter is bigger than a yard. He was 6’7".

Then, we started talking accents. I was asked to do a Texas accent. I had been warned about this before meeting Europeans. I apologize in advance to anyone from Texas for my... questionable representation. I’m not from Texas, but I do love brisket. I said, “Barbeque sauce,” in my best Sandy Cheeks voice. They laughed hysterically and demanded I do it again. A couple of people whose second language was English commented on how clear I spoke. I’m only tooting my own horn here because they couldn't quite understand my wife. I promised not to bring this up more than 100 times.

The Natraj servers brought us complimentary shots of mango schnapps. A subtle way of reminding us they closed 15 minutes ago. We headed back to the hotel with our friends, who showed us a much easier way to get there. We should’ve taken that route to the restaurant. On the ride home, we were asked to explain the definitions of type A and B people, as well as the word “tight.” I’m sure I misrepresented both types of people, so you’re welcome for that. For “tight,” I hugged my wife. I didn’t write the curriculum; I just helped out.

To-go schnitzel round two? I watched the German Wheel of Fortune and then Two and a Half Men in, you guessed it—German. Now, it was time to have nightmares about why we weren’t allowed in that building in the woods.