We only had a couple of days in Munich, which was enough for me. This is mostly because the transition from fish and rice in Japan to heavy cream, potato pasta, and sauerkraut in Germany was too much for my sensitive stomach, and I didn't feel at all well. It was really nice to have Ralf along to order food for us, and he booked us rooms at a very traditional, German inn a 30-minute walk from the Marienplatz, ro the centre of town. A highlight was meeting up with another friend from Sydney, Sebastian, his wife, Elizabeth, and their gorgeous 7-month-old baby, Clara. You could tell the baby was half-German, half-Australian by how happy she was to spend several hours watching us drink huge beers at the Hofbrauhaus.
It's kind of creepy, but I couldn't help thinking as I wandered the streets in Munich how many Jews had owned the businesses lining the streets or lived in the apartments above them. Every time I saw an older person, I wondered what they did, or perhaps more importantly what they didn't do, during the war...then again, maybe I was just sick and thus ready to move on from Munich.