After getting back from our weekend in Northern Bavaria, I had some business at the Immigration Office. Matt went to visit Dachau on his own: I’ve been to the concentration camp museum enough times. The immigration office was a little less terrible this time, as I had someone be honest with me. They hadn’t seen the Freelance Visa application before, and didn’t really know what the deal was. A helpful guy got on the phone with someone upstairs, and my papers have been shipped off to a different place, and as I write this I’m still waiting to hear, but I’m going to go and check in on them soon.
The next day was my opportunity to share how great it is to cycle here. We took the train just to the edge of town and got on the Isar Cycle Path, the Isarradweg, and cycled south to Wolfratshausen, then west to Starnberg, and then took the train back into town. It makes me a bit sad that I won’t be able to take all my visitors cycling here. It really is one of the best things about this city.
The next day we visited Salzburg, Austria. I’d never been, and it was high time. It’s only 2 hours away from Munich by train, and the city is a real beauty. We toured the castle, ate chocolate, saw Mozart’s house, and even saw a classical concert. Second row seats for 25 Euros. They didn’t play any music I was particularly moved by, but it was a gorgeous room, and the Philharmonic sounded amazing. We discovered one other thing, but it’s good enough to keep secret, as I think it will be a staple for future visitors.
The next day was spent recuperating, and researching for our trip to Oslo. We ended it with a great bottle of beer and a cool evening in the English Garten.
It's funny, but Matt's last name is Miller, and to me that gives him some claim to Germany that I don't have. The German form of the last name Miller is the incredible common Mueller or Müller. There were a few times that I had him stand awkwardly in front of something with Mueller on it. I don't think it meant the same to him.
In our Oslo research I just idly stumbled across the schedule for the Oslo Opera House, and, as it happens, on the day we were to arrive Wagner’s first major opera “The Flying Dutchman” was being performed. Mere hours after we were to land, not far from where we were staying.
Wagner on Friday, Terje on Saturday. It was going to be a hell of a weekend.