Judging from the still-Americanized clock at the bottom of my laptop (Julie's laptop), the other half of the world is just beginning to awaken to a new day, a weekend day. In a sense this half of the world is doing the same, or at least this small house, which only dots a very full neighborhood within Munich. It was a late night for everyone here, and so we are only just now fully opening our eyes and stretching our limbs, opening our minds to the possibilities which lay before us.
This morning has been the romantic notion of life in Germany that I had been dreaming of. Six of us awoke late, and slowly we moved about the house, preparing coffee and tea, I, reading a bit from a Steinbeck novel, and everyone gathering breakfast material out on the tree covered lawn where we spent the next hour or more eating breads and cheeses, drinking our hot beverage of choice, and talking intermittedly about last night's adventures. The sun shone warm against our backs, and the table gleamed bright with its reflected heat-light. For the first time in two weeks I could sit in short sleeves and shorts, sandalled-feet, and enjoy the sounds and smells of the forest of plantlife that grows outside of our front door. It was quite a way to start the morning.
Last night was full of a different type of merriment. During the second half of this week Max and Anja played host to two more Americans, one from Washington state and the other from Wisconsin. After a late morning and an afternoon filled with a parade of people coming in and out of the house, each partaking of a fair share of Andech's finest ale, the three of us went to downtown Munich to watch the opening game of the World Match (though America calls it World Cup...very strange). Munich hosted the opening game, and everywhere in the city was crawling with rabid soccer fans. I would have to go to SuperBowl weekend to be sure, but I cannot imagine any American event illiciting this level of excitement, so much that there were riot police on nearly every corner.....and this was only the opening game. We spent the first half of the match trying to find a bar where there was even a dim view of the television, but that was not an easy find. As I have said before, Munich has several bars on each street, but there were just that many fans watching. We finally found an outdoor cafe in a quaint alleyway that was projecting the game on a big screen. Taking the last three seats available, we settled in for Germany's defeat Costa Rica, at which time the city erupted with glee. Celebrations spilled out into the city streets, not riot-like, but merely joyous, and these lasted until well after we left the scene much later that night.
After the match, we bid Alex, the Washingtonian, goodbye, and Kevin and I found a great old-world Italian restaurant that allowed us to sit at a table without ordering food and watch the next match between Ecuador and Poland. Several hours later we emerged from our quiet Italian refuge only to realize that it was becoming quite late, and so we mazed our way through the city streets and found our train home.
At 3:30 this morning we sat down on the couch after our trek home, and before I could even plot my trip upstairs to bed, I fell asleep. Sometime later I crawled beneath my cold blankets and awoke to the splendor spoken of before. I believe I will head back to my Steinbeck.
I hope your morning is filled with the same awe and beauty that mine has been.
This morning has been the romantic notion of life in Germany that I had been dreaming of. Six of us awoke late, and slowly we moved about the house, preparing coffee and tea, I, reading a bit from a Steinbeck novel, and everyone gathering breakfast material out on the tree covered lawn where we spent the next hour or more eating breads and cheeses, drinking our hot beverage of choice, and talking intermittedly about last night's adventures. The sun shone warm against our backs, and the table gleamed bright with its reflected heat-light. For the first time in two weeks I could sit in short sleeves and shorts, sandalled-feet, and enjoy the sounds and smells of the forest of plantlife that grows outside of our front door. It was quite a way to start the morning.
Last night was full of a different type of merriment. During the second half of this week Max and Anja played host to two more Americans, one from Washington state and the other from Wisconsin. After a late morning and an afternoon filled with a parade of people coming in and out of the house, each partaking of a fair share of Andech's finest ale, the three of us went to downtown Munich to watch the opening game of the World Match (though America calls it World Cup...very strange). Munich hosted the opening game, and everywhere in the city was crawling with rabid soccer fans. I would have to go to SuperBowl weekend to be sure, but I cannot imagine any American event illiciting this level of excitement, so much that there were riot police on nearly every corner.....and this was only the opening game. We spent the first half of the match trying to find a bar where there was even a dim view of the television, but that was not an easy find. As I have said before, Munich has several bars on each street, but there were just that many fans watching. We finally found an outdoor cafe in a quaint alleyway that was projecting the game on a big screen. Taking the last three seats available, we settled in for Germany's defeat Costa Rica, at which time the city erupted with glee. Celebrations spilled out into the city streets, not riot-like, but merely joyous, and these lasted until well after we left the scene much later that night.
After the match, we bid Alex, the Washingtonian, goodbye, and Kevin and I found a great old-world Italian restaurant that allowed us to sit at a table without ordering food and watch the next match between Ecuador and Poland. Several hours later we emerged from our quiet Italian refuge only to realize that it was becoming quite late, and so we mazed our way through the city streets and found our train home.
At 3:30 this morning we sat down on the couch after our trek home, and before I could even plot my trip upstairs to bed, I fell asleep. Sometime later I crawled beneath my cold blankets and awoke to the splendor spoken of before. I believe I will head back to my Steinbeck.
I hope your morning is filled with the same awe and beauty that mine has been.
The szenes of celebration were the same all over Germany, you can be sure! Soccer is as big as Basketball, Football, Baseball and Hockey combined are in the U.S., you will see other (mostly European) nationalities celebrate their teams' victories as well - and while I typed this I missed the first goal for England, scored in the 3rd minute!
Have a nice soccerfest, I envy you!