Following the shambolic, debatably traumatic, experience of Munich’s nightlife (disturbingly retold in the previous post), some serious recovery therapy was required. After dragging his shamefully hungover frame to the dry cleaner and back to repair the disgusting damage to the sleeping bag, a zombiefied Bani trudged into the park in search of his dignity as well as a miraculous recuperation method.
Luckily for him, Munich just so happens to be well prepared for redeeming the sore and woeful. Whether it’s due to its infamous beer drinking culture or just an exceedingly caring need to look after its inhabitants, Munich has a few ways to try and resurrect the conquered who have fallen victim to overconsumption of the local brews. Through the English Garden (the city’s massive main park) runs a clean and refreshing stream which feeds into the Isar river. The Eisbach (ice brook) is a man made stream that has a handy secondary use as a lazy river where people can plop in near the city centre and float for a few hundred metres down stream. Bobbing under bridges and past a small waterfall it’s a great way to have a wash on the road as well as wake up after a big night. The cold water is revitalising and even Bani, on the cusp of comatose, seemed capable of survival in the flowing current. Looking up at the changing tree lines which blocked out the battering heat of the sun we floated down to a small wave where surfers cruised across the ever present whitewater, forming a standing wave against the current. After crawling out the side we decided another few brilliantly buoyant sessions were needed to get rid of any excess smells and soreness. On the walks back up to the entry point without the stabilising influence of drenching water, Bani would slip back into the pain caused by inordinate inebriation until he was once again submerged in the sanctuary of the water. At the top we would briefly pause to watch the surfers of the main, man made wave which attracts experienced surfers from all over. Jumping onto the metre tall wave people of all ages would cut across the narrow, fast flowing water, turning and swerving on the fierce flow, which is only a foot deep in some places. Smitten with what we adoringly agreed was the coolest city centre we’ve seen we dreamt of a similar set up, but failed to see anything materialising successfully into the murky garbage laden Thames, especially with the minimal safety risks that would terrify British systems.
With our intermittent yet unavoidable reversion to a dilapidated state, only galvanised by a newfound cleanliness, we changed tactics and tried to redeem ourselves by fighting fire with fire. Buying into the theory of “you can’t be hungover if you don’t sober up” we returned to the Beer Garden, ordered a stein and retreated to the shade. Fighting thirsty wasps for a sip of our own drinks was the only energy requiring movement in an afternoon filled otherwise by staring into a mindless abyss as a wall of tiredness collapsed on us. The wasps which waged war against us could’ve drank the beer faster if they weren’t so insistent on dying in it, but after a few draining hours we completed our mission, albeit to an unsuccessful conclusion.
Still retracing our steps we continued the journey to Ned Kelly’s Australian Bar where only early that morning we had inflicted sufficient damage to our insides that had led to the painful states which wandered back into the cool basement. Instantly attracted to the last gasp saviour of fried food smothered in barbecue sauce we settled in with another hopeful drink and watched the afternoons football.
Other than the tribute to the incredible hangover welfare system Munich provides in the form of its clean stream this post has not done any justice to the cultural marvels evident throughout the Bavarian capital. The centre itself is lined with architectural elegance ranging from the royal palaces, glorious museums and a beautiful high street watching over the old cobbled roads. The friendly people are more than happy to suggest places to visit, hence our quick discovery of the Eisbach wave and the English Garden in which we revelled. (Which happens to be the world’s largest urban park). Rainy days can be filled by the country’s finest art galleries and historical collections which are abundant, as well as the sadly fascinating rise of Nazism which is retold on the ground where the parties head offices used to be. Days can be spent marvelling at the city, we just recommend you get it all done before poisoning your body- otherwise it may try and prevent you from enjoying it all.