Surfing in the Garten, no Sheep

No stale bread here

Yesterday was all about the autumn garden stroll through the Englischer Garten. For those of us Anglophiles, that’s English Garden. Apparently a park modeled on the erratic placement of trees and informality, a departure from typical structured gardening. Although created well before the two world wars, no where have I found any mention of the city changing the name of the Garten for the duration of the war, vis-a-vis Boston Pizza covering up the Boston during the playoffs.

The park history I read after getting back to our place. Rather than do the research ahead of time and aim for a few of those key viewing points where with a little preparation you can truly appreciate what you’re looking at…we prefer to wander the streets in complete ignorance. Sure we’ll miss a few things that we probably should have seen, but there is beauty in the naivety where every new sight ends up being a surprising discovery instead of a destination.

For example, discovering the big and beautiful swans in the lake at the north end of the park were a great surprise. Japanese teahouse, another great photo op. I would also like to say the surfers were also a surprise, but we were tipped off by a guy on the train when headed back from Neuschwanstein. The same guy also suggested there would be sheep in this park, which was our original motivation…but no sheep for us yesterday.

Only 20feet of wave, take what you can get.

I guess if someone told you the washer downstairs had nothing but German instructions and eats 50cent pieces, there would be no point in going and doing it yourself other than to experience it. I could directly efforts to posting a note on the washer, but that would only detract from the discovery of the next sucker to come along and drop 1.50 on a washer full of clothes.

Also part of that daily discovery, a Tesla showroom. A sharp looking Vancouver Cab orange version parked out front, and even hotter red one inside. You could actually see the greasy fingerprints on the window from the passersby that would stop and point.

So what is next? Salzburg. Why Salzburg? We will soon find out.