East of the Isar in Munich, amongst the chestnut trees on the fabled Nockherberg hill, stands the Paulaner brewery, complete with beer hall and beer garden. As far as beer drinking establishments go, it's not the most picturesque nor the best value for money in Munich, but once a year in March, this hill becomes a pilgrimage point for many a beer swilling Bavarian. Every evening for about three weeks, the space inside the cavernous beer hall fills with tuba’s toots, trombone’s parps and cymbal’s clash as the crowd sways and laughs and sings along to the cheesiest ‘Schläger’ hits. Decked out in their finest Tracht they swing their giant Stein-krugs of dark, malty beer, and devour mountains of pork, chicken and Spätzle. This is Munich’s fifth season - Starkbierzeit!
Friday 29 March 2013
Starkbier Celebration
Thursday 28 February 2013
The Art of Wallet Washing
Packing my well-wrapped two month old daughter in her buggy, so only her pink squawking face is bare, we leave her sleep-deprived mum to enjoy the peace of an empty apartment and trudge into a the bluster of a grey February morning. It’s Aschermittwoch or Ash Wednesday, an important date on the Catholic calendar and so an important date in Bavaria. It means that the festivities of Fasching (Carnival) have finally drawn to a close, and the 40 pious days of Lent have begun. According to local tradition, if you wash your wallet in the Fischbrunnen fountain at Munich’s Marienplatz on this day, it will be full for the rest of the year. That’s a good enough incentive for me, so with wallet and baby suitably stowed, and a two hour window before her next meal, we start down the Nockherberg hill towards the historic centre of the city.
Tuesday 29 January 2013
New Years Revelations
Despite its best efforts, the dusting of fresh snow is unable to conceal the evidence of last night’s festivities. Empty beer bottles and spent fireworks emerge as stubborn as chimneys, and faint smudges of ash are still visible through the thin white coat. A sulphurous fug clings to the crisp morning air. As we walk, a slightly frazzled squirrel bounds across the path in front of us and scrabbles up a nearby oak tree. Craning his head back, he inspects us warily as we pass. But he needn’t be afraid, the time for pyrotechnics has passed. The sky today is blue and still. It’s New Year’s morning in Munich.