I’m not even on the plane yet, but I’ve already experienced a lot. I had thought of spending a night at a friend’s house near Munich before departure – it would be nice to see each other, I wouldn’t have the stress of getting to the airport in time by public transport, I wanted to leave some luggage with her beforehand so it wouldn’t be quite so stressful (I tend to take my household with me – and presents, of course).
But one day before, early in the morning, the message: Corona…. With her. So this whole beautiful plan fell apart and I thought about what to do. I definitely had to get out of my flat because someone else would be staying there. So I thought a little back and forth and then there was a new plan.
This morning I handed over the flat keys and shifted my luggage to the train station. It’s a lot, but not as heavy as I feared. Before I left, I read that a tree had fallen on a train or the tracks and that train traffic was in disarray because of it. Luckily I had time. The train arrived unpunctually and was very crowded. I just found a seat, but not my luggage, so it was halfway to a door. About 45 minutes later, the conductor didn’t like that (escape route) and insisted that it be lifted up. But she realised that I was too small for that – and so a stranger man had to help. She was very correct with the luggage. In return, she waived a little money for the man when buying the ticket. And she didn’t even want to see the ticket of many travellers like me.
At the finish station, the man lifted it down again and I managed the 350 m to the hostel well. There the receptionist welcomed me: “Oh, from Ruhpolding! Me too!”. Even right around the corner from me. But she would rather live in Munich. So I’m in a hostel, we used to call them backpackers and I was in some quite often in Australia in the early 90s. In the dormitory. Here is a women’s dormitory, or not a dormitory, a room with 4 beds, it looks like this:
The room has an interesting view of a Ferris wheel (see above). The area here is a bit special. It is currently called the Werksviertel and has a varied history behind it. You can read about it briefly on Wikipedia (sorry, just german)
It’s interesting in this hostel. Just now 2 new people came in – whispering and tiptoeing and not really replying to my hello -It’s still before 18:00. It used to be different.
I then started for my walk – there is an exhibition of an Indian photographer a little walking distance away. There I was able to see a bit of Munich – apart from the Werksviertel – e.g. a place with Indian food. But since I’ll soon be getting a lot of it and it costs so much money here, I wasn’t tempted. Until now, I didn’t like Munich. Today it didn’t seem so unattractive to me. Despite the ugly grey creeping weather.
So I went to see the exhibition. The photographer’s name is Dayanita Singh, she is 2 years older than me and more unconventional than I suspected. She had a special friendship with a eunuch, whom she photographed a lot. Very touching pictures. And there is also a book where I read a bit. Also very beautiful. Then she photographed Indian piles of files in offices etc., architectural details that you can rather only attribute to India if you have often looked at such places in India (as a foreigner), a tabla player, she made collages and it was quite varied and all black and white.
Here is the website of Dayantia Singh.
So I thought I’d have cosy hours with my friend – and instead I’ve already seen a lot of new things.
And now I’m slowly going tired. There’s already a lot behind me – and there’s a lot waiting for me in India. The plans for Saturday are constantly being exchanged.