Friday morning we visited Lüneburg, had lunch at an outdoor beach bar in cold, windy weather.
Then travelled to Hamburg, perused the red light district and bought some brightly-colored wigs to wear to a field hockey game.
Spent the night in the basement of a hostel, and the next day took a boat tour of Hamburg (and perhaps took a nap during it) and returned to Hannover that evening.
Just a typical weekend.
One word: homeland.
Shortly after landing in the land from whence my last name came (though I’m really less Italian than anything else, ancestrally) the wine started flowing and five days of pasta, pizza and gelato commenced.
After finding the Leaning Tower (less anti-climatic than I had imagined, actually) the five of us plopped down at the first restaurant we found, and 7 liters of wine and a raging hangover later we were on our way to Florence. Sadly, we left possibly mere hours before the cast of the Jersey Shore arrived, but we did have time for some serious flea market shopping and to spend more on two amazing meals than I do on groceries in a month.
By the time we got to Venice we were weary, with blistered feet and constantly dehydrated from a combination of too much wine and sun. We mustered the energy to see the sights, but spent a large amount of time just sitting by the water, waiting for the next Ambulanza to race by and singing to passing gondolas.
Pisa Florence Venice
While you may think all my spare time is spent looking at the bottom of a liter of Bier, sometimes I partake in more cultural activities. Our second day in Munich was much different from our first. A two hour train ride followed by an arduous uphill trek led us to another Bucket List item: Neuschwanstein Castle.
Nestled high in the German Alps with views to die for, we were not disappointed.
Well folks, it’s official: I can die happy. I finally made it to the Hofbräuhaus in Munich.
After taking part in a two hour city tour that took four hours, my travel companion and I weren’t sure what to do next. The obvious answer to that question would be to spend 5+ hours ‘barhopping’ inside the world-famous brewery in the heart of München. A Maß of Bier and some Bretzeln in the outdoor Biergarten, followed by a Käsespätzle and Bier dinner while sitting next to the band (and an old German man who wanted nothing more than to talk to us, despite our inability to understand about 90% of what he was trying to communicate), and finally Apfelstrudel (and some more, smaller, Biers) for dessert in the upstairs dining room.
And of course, we went back the next night for more of the same. God Bless Germany.
That, friends, is pure joy.