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You may recall Xavier and I have tried to bowl wherever we go. It may seem like a silly thing to do when travelling abroad, but it's a fun activity and the subtle and not so subtle differences regionally is pretty interesting.
Not too many opportunities within the city limits of München, but just west of the hooker and casino district is a charming transitional neighborhood. A bit run down, but containing hipster elements. You know the sort of neighborhood...perfect for boutique graphic design and architecture firms.
Here was the pub Zur Schwalbe, with its lone bowling alley, reminiscent of the Sheep's Heid in Edinburgh.
The balls were larger than candlepin balls, but smaller than standard 10 pin ones, with 2 finger holes.
There were but 9 pins, forming a diamond pattern. They were connected by cord, so when it was time to reset, the cords pulled the pins up. Sometimes they struggled, giving the fun imagery of dancing pins.
The rule book, containing like 35 different games one could play, was all in German, so we made up our own rules. We each won one game, and we tied one, thus preserving our friendship.
The next day, we trained to Füssen, to see the famous Neuschwanstein Castle. It was a lovely day trip, as the Bavarianside is lovely. The castle is situated beautifully, with stunning views of the structure and the mountains. But the house was largely unoccupied, so it didn't have many "stories" to tell. Long lines, hurried tour, little information. I stress, it was a nice day trip.
The "in" 'do for gay boys across Europe (as seen by English boys, German, Austrian at least), is the close crop on the sides, and quite long on top. Either shaggy as Christian sports, or coiffed up as the below drawing shows, or plastered back a la the 1920s.
Speaking of the fellow below, he was interesting. Maybe 20 years old, 6'2" with a 27" waist, tight T-neck, and pants that when the light hit them just right you realized they were vinyl tight-mesh jeans. Best of all, the sparking bedazzled trainers. Xavier dubbed him "the Dazzler."
Next night we saw a fellow in all-white, who Xavier said, "he looks like the scientist from [Back] to the Future." I said, "oh, Doc Brown." But then it hit me as I drew this, if he had the 'stache, he'd totally be Mark Twain.
Too late in the trip did Christian explain how to order beer in München. The standard is to order "a beer" to produce a half-liter of Augustiner, the standard beer in town. It's light enough to take on several half-liters. But Xavier had been ordering us "white beer" which produces a half liter of something not very white or very light and not easy to finish even one half liter with a heavy German meal.
Here we were, innocently walking through the lovely parks of München, when we stumbled on to a site of horror.
First, let me explain how lovely the parks are in München: imagine swatches of Vermont plunked into the big city of your choice. That's it. Minimal fancy layout, just lovely nature. Sure, some canals, bridges, and what-not. But it definitely felt like the country within the city.
And it was at the end of peak foliage season, the city was alive with reds, golds, orange leaves. Stunning.
Stopping along the bridge, I noted to Xavier, "look down there, they are all nude or half-nude."
It required a closer look from the adjoining bridge: yes, keep in mind each bridge has full access to this place.
