A Nostalgic look back at getting lost after leaving a Hofbrauhaus in Munich

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During the first six weeks of my year-long European travel tour in '82, I spent most of my time in West Germany. And because Berlin was then a divided city between democracy and communism, I opted for Munich as my convenient hub in Central Europe for coming and going. With an excellent transportation system and helpful weather, I'd come here often for a few days while determining where I'd go next.

Because of my low budget of $10 per day in Munich, lodging possibilities were limited. My options were a Youth Hostel (Jugenherberge) or Camping (ein Campingplatz). The youth hostel was closer to the town center and housed about a hundred guests sleeping in a large room. That's the good news; with no curfew, the bad news is being woken up at 2 or 3 a.m. by fellow drunk travelers. Experience can be the best teacher, especially if you're the type of individual who wants at least 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep.

 

A continental breakfast was served at the youth hostel, typically consisting of a hard roll (sometimes called a rundstuck or feierabend brotchen) which would sometimes fit perfectly in my right hand. Drinks were either coffee or tea and if fortunate, to break your fast, might include a banana or slice of cheese. Opportunists would sometimes take several extra rolls and dress them up later in the afternoon with cheese or grape marmalade from the local market. Coffee, tea, and rolls were provided so this youth hostel could advertise a free breakfast with the stay. It was simply a cost-effective approach to improve its marketing.

While in Munich, I averaged about ten miles of walking each day, so I had the opportunity to search for other options besides crowded youth hostels. While here, other afternoons would be spent looking for substantial and cheap food, especially at food markets. I absorbed and learned about Munich culture. After several exciting and challenging days at the youth hostel, I realized I had a tent, mattress pad, sleeping bag, Sternal stove, and mess kit. I was not obligated to stay there, so I researched and found the Campingplatz München Thalkirchen – (Thalkirchen Campground Munich), only a five-minute walk to the nearest public transportation.

As I mentioned earlier, the Munich transportation system was a good and efficient system for getting around the city and outlying areas. The S-Bahn was above and below ground and covered the greater area of Munich as a commuter train line. The U-Bahn was mainly below ground, owned by the city of Munich, and basically served this city. Munich also had busses and street cars, but I rarely used these because I'd typically walk to observe and experience street life when I strolled around. If my legs needed an occasional rest, I'd purchase a day pass and take the subway to random stops -- who knew what neighborhood I could then explore. Because this Bavarian capital was relatively safe, I never worried about ending up in a rough area. Some communities were a little more foreign than others, but overall, it was a beautiful city to visit and explore.

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I was amazed that I found a camping place only four miles (about six kilometers) from Marienplatz (Mary's Square, the most popular square in Munich), along the Isar River. Never in America could I find a safe and inexpensive camping place so close to the central business district. I used Munich as a transportation hub, so if staying here for more than several days, I'd default to this camping site because of its safety and convenience.

One early July evening, while camping, I took the streetcar to the Hofbrauhaus (direct translation is Court Brewery, which served strong beer and food) near the Marienplatz to have an authentic German beer. I kept that singular because it's common for a liter of beer to suffice. So I connected with other young tourists who had the same idea, so we settled in the brew house, and each ordered a liter of beer. I frowned about one hour later, seeing my empty beer mug. I was hungry, as I had not eaten since breakfast. Anyway, the waiter came by and asked me if I wanted another as the others were still nursing their initial beer, with only half of it drunk. The waiter teased me as I contemplated another and felt no pain. To prompt me, he said if I could finish another liter within an hour, my beer would be comped. Sometimes, in youth, you accept silly challenges without knowing the full effects of such actions.

 

As a German-American originally from Wisconsin, a state that knows how to brew beer, I would not be defeated (despite how many times I may fail as a result!). About 20 minutes to go on my challenge, I had to relieve myself at the nearest WC (bathroom), so I returned to crunch time and was shocked that I still had half a liter to go. I reached into my wallet to pay him several Deutsch Marks (German currency) as I figured I couldn't drink any more beer. As my fellow travelers egged me on, and being so close to victory, I chugged the rest of the beer in my stein to victory. After smiling and being congratulated, I felt an instant dizziness and disorientation as I attempted to stand up. I had mixed emotions; the embarrassment of not handling my beer overrode my feeling of this accomplishment. At this point, I quickly moved away from the Hofbrauhaus because I was very drunk and especially awkward at not handling my beer. As I stumbled or struggled to walk straight, people quickly gave me space and got out of the way. At this point, I decided to call it a night and walked back to my tent and sleeping arrangement. The only problem was, where was it?

Perhaps Vertigo had also set in as I headed east from Marienplatz, looking for a tram stop. Having purchased a transportation pass for the day, I jumped on the first tram and tried to pay attention to the various stops to gain perspective, but that didn't make a difference. I knew I was on the brown line but wasn't sure of the direction it was traveling. After a handful of stations, I noticed we arrived at the Ostbahnhof and immediately knew I was traveling east and not south, so I immediately disembarked and reversed course. Once I was close to my original destination, I exited the tram to get better oriented. I started to ask residents about this camping place, and no one could help. It didn't help that I couldn't remember the name -- I blamed the strong German beer on my forgetfulness. Most residents didn't know about this camping site because they'd never had the need to use it. It would have helped if I saved the receipt for my three-night stay. It just seemed my mistakes were beginning to pile up.

I then realized that I had earlier brought a city map to the Hofbrauhaus but could not find it. I must have misplaced it -- another error on my part.

Being in the town center, I only thought I needed to head south, so I followed the Isar River as it flowed in that direction. Following the Isar River, I walked for nearly 90 minutes, occasionally asking strangers on the street if they could ensure I was navigating to the south. Most ignored me because I was drunk. I finally decided to rest on a park bench late evening and noticed the Thalkirchen Tierpark (Zoo) sign nearby. After much physical foot traffic, I felt more awake and alert and realized the camping site was about a 10 - 15 minute walk from the Zoo. After another 25 minutes of walking, I was dead tired and just wanted to sleep, but still no camping site. And getting warmer to my sleeping arrangement, I started asking people on the street if anyone might know. After asking a few people, a young lady knew of it and offered to walk me the rest of the way. The only remaining obstacle was to cross the Isar in a sober manner. I was relieved and appreciative of her kind words and wanted to buy her a beer but wasn't in a reasonable frame of mind, so I merely said, "Vielen Dank, Vielen Dank" (thank you very much) as she walked away.

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Who needs a Dishwasher when you have Eight of them?

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My mom had a three-foot measuring stick, and if you exceeded that length, you qualified for frequent dishwashing. Essentially, if you could reach the bottom of the sink, even with one finger, you were drafted into dishwashing regardless of your want. It reminded me of an amusement park ride, but in this scenario, it wasn't going to be an enjoyable ride. Regarding my height, I was tall for my age, so technically, I was put to work sooner than those less in stature.

I was number four in our family of eight to help clean the kitchen after meals. It’s probably not hard to imagine an adult doing dishes manually for ten people after a big meal but at six or seven years of age?

 

A few years later, a fifth sibling qualified to do dishes. At that point, with so many helpers in the kitchen, I believe my dad and older sister devised a weekly point system, one point for clearing, washing, and drying. The goal of this new point system was to simplify things with kitchen chores which wasn't always the case. Anyway, as in any new system, adjustments were made when necessary.

 

The clearing of dishes was fairly straightforward but also included sweeping the floor. That meant moving many chairs around to ensure all crumbs and excess food were correctly captured with a broom and dustpan. I enjoyed getting my hands wet while washing dishes, but your flow could be disrupted by a "lollygagging" clearer who you thought had ADHD where they weren’t always on task. Some siblings liked drying as they could wield their power of quality control and send anything back to the washer that didn't meet their standards. I rarely took offense to washing a dish a second time as long as I wasn’t splashed in the process. Just to be clear, there was never a situation when the kitchen was not completely cleaned by bedtime.

During school days, dinner was the only meal where the point system was applied, and three meals were on Saturday and Sunday. During summer vacation, there were three meals each day, times seven days, which meant a total point value was sixty-three. This meant that during the warm summer, breakfast and lunch often just involved bowls, silverware, glasses, and paper plates (to be discarded).

These types of meals provided an astute sibling to grab those easier points of the week. Summer dinners were the exact opposite as my mother and older siblings helped whip up a sit-down dinner that included meat, potatoes, and vegetables, along with whole milk. For evening meals, most of us were not brave enough to tackle such a chore, but I must add that the individual with the least number of points at that moment had to address the mess. It was a major mess to clean up and was also a major mess to one's playtime.

Some were better than others at finding easier meals to work

My youngest brother was adept at lobbying Mom on the types of meals she was planning for Saturday and Sunday. Those were two days where the most involved meals could take place. (You could only “call” one day ahead of time.) For example, if he quietly learned from her that we’re having a roast on Saturday night, he’d call Saturday breakfast and/or lunch on Friday morning. That meant he’d earn plenty of required points with a minimal amount of effort.

It took me a while to see his approach, but for whatever reason, even though I understood his strategy, I was unable to beat him at overall finding easier meals in which to work.

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The week ended on Saturday, so there were many situations where I was short three or more points on the last day of the week. If lucky, I'd grab three for breakfast, but that wasn't always the case. Often, I'd get stuck doing lunch and/or dinner, and if not a grab meal (bread, cold cuts, chips, and milk), I was in a world of hurt. I vividly remember looking at the vacant kitchen after the other nine had gone on to more interesting things. There were typically four pots and pans to clean for sit-down dinners, several spatulas, cutting knives, plates, glasses, and silverware for ten, if not more. Also, there may have been additional dishes in the sink from snacks consumed in the afternoon. My daydreaming helped me pass the time away, but in today's world, I'd strap on my noise-canceling headphones and listen to podcasts to help me accomplish this mundane task.

Controversy about chores among kids?

It’s not surprising that controversy sometimes ensued about who called what meal. Did they sign the call sheet? Was it legible? Was it called within the correct time frame? Did they include which tasks they were interested in? There were times my dad was in the living room reading the paper as some of us bickered and debated the correct legal fight. After this occurred for about 5 - 10 minutes, he’d charge into the kitchen and try to sort things out. If it was quite involved, his executive decision was that those involved in the controversy had to partner together and clean up the dinner mess. There were a few times when I was not blameless and created a little chaos so my cleaning partner did more than their fair share. My approach was that if I had to drown in a sea of dirty dishes, any chaos to reduce my workload was my advantage.

 

We recycled 50 years ago (I was tithed on recycling)

One more thing about doing dishes many years ago was that we had to rinse and wash out the empty cans of corn, beans, and peas that were to be recycled. Imagine having an environmentally conscious dad who felt the need to recycle 50 years ago. Recycling was not the zeitgeist at the time, so the majority of families never would have gone through the bother, but one could also say no families would have gone through the bother of formalizing a dishwashing point system.

 

Call me a fool, but today, over 50 years later, I still enjoy doing dishes. I've perfected the system, so I feel it's the most efficient way of getting the dishes cleaned. We didn't have a window over our sink growing up, but I now glance out the window while I scrub and clean the dishes. Years ago, my mom would review the temperature of the dishwater and say it had to be hotter to kill all the germs. So today, when I manually wash dishes, I give homage to my mom as I attempt to wash them in very hot water. I must say that I'm not completely against a dishwasher if you have a dinner party or a special event and need to clean up the kitchen quickly, but if it's only a party of two eating at home, the manual method works well for me.

My kids can’t believe I didn’t have a dishwasher growing up with so many mouths to feed. First of all, our kitchen was about ninety square feet, so there was no place for a dishwasher. With so many kids around, you had to keep them busy to avoid fighting and bickering. Over the years, my dad was sometimes asked why he didn’t have a dishwasher, and he would always say, “What do you mean? I have eight of them.” I can’t imagine that while doing dishes as a 1st grader, I would still be going through the same process today. Is it because years ago, I had plenty of siblings who were not shy at providing quality control? Or was it the point system that instilled hard work in me? I still clearly remember having to clean up our eating area, which sometimes looked like it was destroyed by a tornado. I don't have an answer, but all I know is that today, my immediate family is grateful that I handled this task efficiently and effortlessly, even 50 years after the inception of our points system.

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