Munich

I went from my hotel this morning to explore the city.  The bulk of the old city is in a small area, and so I was able to get a feel for things quickly.  My german has continued to improve, and I pull out words from nowhere as I converse in the streets and in shops.

After finding the Residenz, a very large palace, I started chatting with an old woman (she was telling me about when the Nazi's came to town, and the saluting at some point - though I think she was very young at the time).  She invited me to walk with her, speaking only in German to me.  As she got more and more excited about telling me the history and about little shops and bakeries, her German went faster and faster.  I made out most of what she was saying, and nodded affirmatively in all the right spots.

Eventually, I stopped to sit down and read for a bit, bidding her farewell.  I decided to wait a few minutes, and instead headed to a shop.  It is freezing here, and I wanted to find something warm.  As I stepped into the shop, it started to downpour.  Even though the place was kind enough to give me an umbrella, I decided to wait it out, having a lovely conversation with the shop keeper.

I meandered for the rest of the day, stopping only at a place called Spatenhaus for a late lunch, and then the hofbrauhaus for a liter of beer to watch the game.  I ended up meeting various people, in fact, everyone I met today is in med school.

The game should have been a victory.

Very tipsy on nearly two liters of beer, I stumbled around the city for a bit.  I had already done the residenz.  Upon looking at my map, I saw the Synagogue listed.  Being Friday, my natural inclination (after five months in Israel) was to inquire about services.  I went in and was immediately approached by a man wearing a bow tie, a hat that greek orthodox priests wear and a tuxedo - with tails.

You have shabbos plans?

No

Good, you'll have shabbos by me.

Turns out he was the Rabbi / Chazzan.  Another guy standing next to me was also offered the same, and we agreed to go together.

Between the dress of the congregants (lots of tuxedo's with tails, top hats, among other dress foreign to me) and the unusual melodies, if I stopped listening to the hebrew, and just focused on the sounds and sights, I might have mistaken myself for being in a church.

Shabbos dinner was very good, as was the conversation.

After I came back for my stuff and prepared for another long night.  I prefer the beds on the trains.