Venice: A Rendezvous through the Floating City

It was still dark when our bus rolled out of Munich, tracing its way south through the Alpine routes toward Italy. The excitement of visiting Venice, the fabled city built on water, kept everyone wide awake. After hours on the road, the landscape began to shift, and the sunlight glistened over the Venetian Lagoon. By the time we reached the bus terminal at Tronchetto, the day had properly begun. From there, the only way forward was by boat.

The moment our vaporetto (water bus) glided into the Grand Canal, it felt like entering a painting that had suddenly come to life. The canal curved like an inverted “S” through the city, lined with palaces that seemed to rise straight out of the water. Our boat cruised past the Palazzo Grassi, the ornate Ca’ Rezzonico, and the Gothic splendour of Ca’ d’Oro, their façades reflecting centuries of art, trade, and power. Gondolas drifted alongside us, their oars dipping rhythmically, a vivid reminder that this is a city without roads.

Passing through the Grand Canal

As we neared the Piazza San Marco, the Grand Canal widened, revealing one of Europe’s most iconic sights. Stepping off the boat felt like stepping into history. The Piazza San Marco, or St. Mark’s Square, spread out before us, a vast open space bordered by grand arcades, their arches framing elegant shops and historic buildings. The square’s symmetry and openness were breathtaking, with the Campanile towering over one end and the Basilica di San Marco gleaming at the other.

Piazza San Marco

We started with the Doge’s Palace (Palazzo Ducale), a masterpiece of Venetian Gothic architecture. Its façade of pink Verona marble and white limestone stood in striking contrast to the blue sky. Inside, the palace unfolded like a museum of Venetian power. The Chamber of the Great Council, the largest room in the palace, was awe-inspiring, its golden ceiling framed colossal paintings by Tintoretto and Veronese. Walking through the Hall of the Senate, the Council Chamber, and the Armory, we could imagine the grandeur of the days when Venice ruled the seas.

Doge's Palace as viewed from the Grand Canal

A narrow, enclosed corridor led us next to the Bridge of Sighs, connecting the palace to the old prison. Looking through its small stone windows, one could sense the emotion behind its name, prisoners’ last glimpse of Venice before imprisonment. The quiet canal below, shadowed and still, seemed far removed from the lively piazza we had just left.

Height of claustrophobia - View from the Bridge of Sighs

Emerging again into sunlight, we turned toward the St. Mark’s Basilica, a dazzling blend of Byzantine domes and golden mosaics. Its intricate façade, filled with arches, marble inlays, and bronze horses, told stories from centuries past. Inside, the shining gold mosaics covered almost every surface, creating an atmosphere of both grandeur and reverence.

St. Mark's Basilica

Adjacent to it stood the St. Mark’s Campanile, the tall red-brick bell tower that dominates the Venetian skyline. Taking the elevator to the top, we were rewarded with a panoramic view, the domes of the basilica, the web of canals, and the endless lagoon stretching toward the Adriatic. Below, in the square, the Lion of Venice stood proudly atop its column, the winged lion symbolizing St. Mark and the Republic’s enduring spirit.

St. Mark's Square as viewed from St. Mark's Campanile

Crossing one of the smaller canals, we continued toward the Ponte di Rialto, the most famous bridge in Venice. Its elegant stone arch framed the bustling life of the Grand Canal. From its top, we watched gondolas weaving below and boats loaded with goods passing through, the same activity that had defined Venice’s trading heart for centuries. The surrounding area buzzed with small shops selling Venetian masks, glasswork, and souvenirs.

Ponte di Rialto

In the afternoon, we boarded a boat heading toward the Murano Islands, known worldwide for their glassmaking heritage. The ride through the lagoon offered a quieter, more local side of Venice, with pastel-coloured houses and calm waters. On Murano, we visited a glass factory, where artisans demonstrated the centuries-old craft of glassblowing. Watching them shape molten glass into delicate vases and intricate figurines was mesmerizing; a fusion of skill and patience that defined their legacy.

Murano Island, home of glassblowing

As the sun dipped lower, we made our way back by boat, retracing the Grand Canal in the golden light of evening. The palaces glowed warmly, and the reflections danced across the rippling water. By the time we reached the bus station, night had quietly settled over the lagoon. Boarding our return bus to Munich, we carried with us vivid images, of canals glistening under sunlight, bridges steeped in history, and a city that defied the very idea of land. Venice had left its unique mark, a floating dream anchored firmly in reality.

Fairytale Castles & Alpine Lakes: Southern Bavaria's Magic

During our year-long stay in Munich, we found that one of the city’s greatest gifts was not just its own charm but its location; right in the heart of Southern Bavaria, a region where history, nature, and culture come together in perfect balance. With the Deutsche Bahn network reaching almost every corner of the state, it became easy to plan spontaneous weekend day trips to places that felt worlds apart from the city’s rhythm. A short train ride could take us from Munich’s bustling Marienplatz to snow-covered peaks, tranquil lakes, or towns steeped in medieval and baroque splendour.

Southern Bavaria unfolded as a landscape of endless variety; the Alps rising like a protective wall in the south, the emerald lakes scattered across gentle plains, and the historic towns that carried centuries of craftsmanship and faith in their architecture. Each destination had its own personality; from the mountain air of Garmisch-Partenkirchen to the lakeside serenity of Starnberg and Herrsching, from the royal fantasy of Neuschwanstein to the riverside elegance of Passau and Lindau.

These day trips became our window into Bavaria’s soul, journeys defined not by distance but by discovery. Trains became companions, their steady rhythm carrying us through meadows, forests, and valleys, always with the Alps somewhere on the horizon. Every return to Munich felt like coming home with a story; of places that were not far away, yet deeply unforgettable.

 

Garmisch-Partenkirchen and Mittenwald

We started early in the morning from Munich Hauptbahnhof, boarding a regional train bound for Garmisch-Partenkirchen, a journey that took us roughly two hours through some of the most beautiful alpine countryside in southern Bavaria. The train gradually left behind the suburbs and rolled into green meadows dotted with wooden chalets, cow pastures, and distant snow-capped peaks.

The alpine charm of Garmisch-Partenkirchen

Stepping out of Garmisch station, we found ourselves in Garmisch Town, an alpine resort that perfectly captured traditional Bavarian character. The backdrop of the Zugspitze massif, Germany’s highest mountain, dominated every view. After a short bus ride from the city centre, we reached the cable car station at Alpspitzbahn.

Osterfelderkopf, the highest point of Alpspitzbahn

The ascent of the cable car began gently, rising above the treetops, and soon the valley unfolded beneath us. We changed at the middle station to reach Osterfelderkopf, perched high above at around 2,000 metres. From the viewing terrace, the panorama was overwhelming; steep ridges, deep valleys, and the dramatic outlines of the Wetterstein range. The Alpspitze, with its sharp pyramid-like peak, stood close enough to feel within reach. The clear alpine light made every detail of the mountain landscape vivid and sharp.

Hiking down from Osterfelderkopf with Wetterstein Range in the backdrop

After descending, we took a short train ride further south to Mittenwald, a smaller and even more picturesque town nestled in a narrow valley at the foot of the Karwendel range. The Altstadt was compact, lined with pastel-coloured houses and violin-maker workshops, a reminder of Mittenwald’s long-standing fame for string instruments since the 17th century.

Altstadt, Mittenwald

We strolled toward St. Peter and Paul Church, whose onion-domed tower and detailed frescoes immediately caught the eye. A pleasant walk led us to Lautersee, a small lake surrounded by dense forest and mountain slopes. The reflection of the Karwendel peaks on the still water created a tranquil alpine picture. On the way back, we stopped briefly at the Kneippanlage, a traditional open-air water basin where locals practiced hydrotherapy by wading barefoot through icy mountain water.

Lautersee, Mittenwald

As the evening light softened, we returned to the Mittenwald station for the train back to Munich. The journey home passed quietly through the fading alpine landscape, the peaks turning pink and blue in the dusk.

 

Neuschwanstein – The Fairytale Castle

We began our journey early in the morning, leaving Munich Hauptbahnhof on a regional train bound for Füssen. At Buchloe, we switched to a smaller local train that carried us deep into the Allgäu countryside. The transition from the urban sprawl of Munich to rolling pastures and forested hills was gradual and calming.

Füssen is a quaint Bavarian town located near the Austrian border. From the station, it was only a short walk to the Altstadt. The Marktplatz, or town square, formed the heart of Füssen, lined with old merchant buildings and overlooked by the high white walls of the Hohes Schloss, the town’s castle.

From Füssen, we took a local bus to Hohenschwangau, a small settlement nestled between forested hills and lakes. Rising above the village stood Hohenschwangau Castle, painted a warm yellow and surrounded by dense greenery. This was where King Ludwig II spent much of his childhood. Below the castle stretched the Alpsee, a glacial lake with glass-clear waters.

Hohenschwangau Castle and Alpsee, as viewed from Neuschwanstein

From there, we began our ascent to Neuschwanstein Castle, Ludwig II’s most famous creation. The path wound steeply upward through fir and spruce trees, with occasional openings that offered glimpses of the towering white turrets above. Upon reaching the gatehouse, the castle loomed ahead like something from a dream; tall towers, arched windows, and intricately carved balconies clinging to a rugged limestone cliff. The grey rock below and the alpine meadows beyond made the structure look both majestic and solitary.

Inside, the self-guided tour revealed the immense detail and symbolism of Ludwig’s vision. The Hall of the Singers was vast and richly decorated with murals depicting Germanic legends and medieval knights. Its high vaulted ceiling and carved wooden panels gave it a solemn, almost theatrical grandeur. The Throne Hall, inspired by Byzantine architecture, was even more impressive; columns of deep blue and gold, a mosaic floor representing the earth and celestial spheres, and chandeliers shaped like crowns suspended from the domed ceiling. Interestingly, there was no throne, as Ludwig died before the hall was completed.

Throne Hall at Neuschwanstein

After leaving the castle, we continued along a forest trail to Marienbrücke, a slender iron bridge that spanned the Pöllat Gorge. From this vantage point, Neuschwanstein revealed its most iconic view; the castle rising dramatically against the alpine backdrop, framed by cliffs and waterfalls cascading far below. The wind at the bridge was strong, and the height dizzying, but the perspective was unforgettable. We could see the entire valley stretching towards Füssen, dotted with lakes and meadows fading into the distance.

Neuschwanstein Castle, as viewed from Marienbrücke

As afternoon shadows lengthened, we made our way down to Hohenschwangau and continued walking to Füssen. The evening train back to Munich was quiet. It had been a day of history, imagination, and pure Bavarian splendour; the fairytale made real on a mountain ridge.

 

Berchtesgaden National Park

We set out from Munich Hauptbahnhof early morning, taking the regional train towards Berchtesgaden, tucked deep in the southeastern corner of Bavaria near the Austrian border. The journey required a change at Freilassing, after which the train wound its way through increasingly dramatic mountain scenery. Meadows gave way to forests, and each curve of the track revealed higher peaks capped with snow.

The town of Berchtesgaden sat quietly in a deep basin surrounded by towering ridges. Its centre, with narrow cobbled lanes and frescoed houses, had an old-world charm. We began our exploration at Schloss Berchtesgaden, a sprawling complex that had evolved from a 12th-century Augustinian monastery into a residence for Bavarian dukes and kings. The building’s pale façades and arched courtyards overlooked the market square.

A short walk uphill brought us to the Old Cemetery, shaded by tall lime trees and bordered by wrought-iron crosses. Each grave was carefully tended with alpine flowers, and small lanterns flickered beside them. From the cemetery wall, the view opened up to the Watzmann, Bavaria’s second-highest mountain, whose sharp peaks dominated the skyline.

Mount Watzmann, Berchtesgaden National Park

From the centre, a local bus took us to Schönau am Königssee, the gateway to Berchtesgaden National Park. As we approached, the peaks seemed to rise straight out of the water. The Königssee, meaning “King’s Lake,” was long and narrow, enclosed by steep cliffs that dropped almost vertically into its emerald waters. At the boat dock, we boarded one of the electric boats that silently glided across the lake, the only type of vessel allowed here to preserve the pristine environment.

Reflections in Königssee

Our first stop was the Malerwinkel overlook, accessible by a short trail along the lake’s edge. The path wound through dense pine and beech woods before opening up to a stunning viewpoint. From there, the lake stretched into the distance, enclosed by massive cliffs and glimmering under the midday sun; an image that had inspired painters for centuries, hence its name, the “Painter’s Corner.”

We reboarded the boat and continued to the most famous landmark on the lake, the Church of St. Bartholomew. The small pilgrimage church, with its red onion domes and whitewashed walls, stood on a narrow peninsula backed by the sheer east wall of the Watzmann. The scene was almost surreal; the reflection of the church and mountains in the calm water looked like a painting brought to life. Behind the church, a trail led to the Eiskapelle, an ice cave formed by a glacier-fed stream.

Church of St. Bartholomew at Königssee

As the afternoon wore on, we returned to Schönau and spent some quiet time at the lakeshore, watching the sunlight fade over the still surface of Königssee. The return journey to Munich was long but restful, passing once more through rolling foothills and silent mountain valleys.

 

Chiemsee

We left Munich on a clear morning, boarding a regional train bound for Prien am Chiemsee, about an hour southeast of the city. The train sped past green farmlands and small Bavarian villages, their church spires piercing the horizon. As we neared Prien, glimpses of Chiemsee, Bavaria’s largest lake, began to appear; a broad expanse of water ringed by distant alpine peaks.

From Prien station, a short walk led us to the harbour where boats departed regularly for the lake’s islands. We boarded one of the white passenger ferries that plied between Prien, Herreninsel, and Fraueninsel. The cool breeze off the lake carried the scent of water and pine. As the boat moved away from the shore, the Chiemsee opened wide around us, dotted with sails and bordered by reed-lined coves. The faint outline of the Kampenwand Mountains framed the southern horizon, their rugged shapes mirrored on the calm water.

After about fifteen minutes, the ferry reached Herreninsel, the largest island in the lake. Disembarking at the pier, we followed the shaded avenue that led through dense beech woods toward the palace grounds. Near the jetty, carriages waited to take visitors along the long gravel road to the castle, and we opted for the horse-drawn ride. The rhythmic sound of hooves and the jingle of harness bells set a gentle pace as we rolled through leafy paths until the trees opened to reveal the immense façade of Herrenchiemsee New Palace.

Herrenchiemsee New Palace

The New Palace, built by King Ludwig II of Bavaria in the late 19th century, was inspired directly by the Palace of Versailles. Standing before it, the resemblance was unmistakable; an immense Baroque structure with sculpted balustrades, fountains, and ornamental gardens arranged in perfect symmetry. We joined a guided tour through a series of grand halls that glowed with gilded ornamentation, mirrors, and crystal chandeliers. The Hall of Mirrors stretched endlessly, lined with seventeen arches of glass reflecting one another in a seemingly infinite play of light. It was slightly shorter than its French counterpart but equally lavish.

Hall of Mirrors at New Palace

Other rooms revealed the king’s extravagant yet reclusive character: his State Bedroom, never slept in, decorated in crimson and gold; his Blue Salon, filled with porcelain and velvet furnishings; and his Dining Room, with a mechanical table designed to rise through the floor from the kitchen below so the king could dine unseen by servants. The Ludwig II Museum, located in one wing, displayed his personal possessions; ornate furniture, silverware, portraits, and models of his other castles, including Neuschwanstein and Linderhof.

After touring the palace, we stepped into the formal gardens. The fountains and sculptures reflected the same sense of royal extravagance, especially the Latona Fountain and the long water axis that stretched toward the forest. Beyond the manicured lawns lay quieter trails through the park, where birdsong and the rustle of leaves replaced the grandeur of marble and gold.

Walking back through the trees, we reached the Old Palace, once an Augustinian Monastery. Its plain white cloisters contrasted starkly with the New Palace’s extravagance. Inside, vaulted corridors led to rooms displaying religious art and historical exhibits about the monastery’s past. The monastery church, with its tall gothic windows and simple stone altar, retained a peaceful solemnity.

From Herreninsel, we continued the boat ride to Fraueninsel, the smaller island on the Chiemsee. It was home to the historic Benedictine Convent of Frauenwörth, founded in the 8th century, and the island’s iconic onion-domed church tower that rose above the cottages and gardens. A walk around the island offered serene lake views framed by the distant Alps. We spent our remaining time wandering through the island, before walking back to the pier for the return boat to Prien.

Fraueninsel, as viewed from Chiemsee

Starnberg

We set out from Munich on a bright morning, taking the S-Bahn line S6 from Munich Hauptbahnhof toward Starnberg, a town located only about 25 kilometres southwest of the city. The journey was short, barely 40 minutes, but the transformation in landscape was remarkable. As the train approached Starnberg, the view suddenly opened to reveal the wide expanse of Lake Starnberg, stretching calm and silver beneath the horizon.

Stepping off at Starnberg See Station, we found the lake right beside the platform. The waterfront promenade was peaceful, lined with benches, boathouses, and flowering trees. On clear days, the snowy outline of the Alps was visible across the southern horizon, but even under a soft haze, the lake’s scale was impressive.

We began our day with a boat tour across Lake Starnberg, boarding one of the white passenger ferries that circled its major stops. Along the shoreline stood elegant villas, old boathouses, and small private jetties. Our first stop was Possenhofen, a small lakeside village known for its connection to Empress Elisabeth of Austria, who spent her youth at Possenhofen Castle. From the boat, we could see the castle’s pale towers peeking through dense trees along the shore. The lake here was narrower, and the opposite bank appeared close enough to touch.

Starnberger See

Continuing further, we sailed past Tutzing, a larger town surrounded by wooded hills and gardens, where the ferry paused briefly before heading south. The lake widened again as we approached Seeshaupt, the southernmost point, where the Alps loomed faintly in the distance. The journey took us across nearly the entire lake, about 20 kilometres, offering a serene, uninterrupted view of Bavarian countryside and water merging into sky.

Returning to Starnberg by the afternoon, we spent time exploring the upper part of town. A short walk led us to Starnberg Castle (Schloss Starnberg), perched on a hill overlooking the water. The original castle dated back to the Middle Ages, though it was later transformed into a more residential estate by the Bavarian dukes. Its white walls and simple architecture contrasted beautifully with the greenery of the surrounding park.

Schloss Starnberg

As evening approached, we boarded the S-Bahn back to Munich. The train traced the same route through green meadows, the view from the windows fading into twilight.

 

Herrsching

We began the day by taking the S-Bahn line S8 from Munich Hauptbahnhof to Herrsching, a small lakeside town at the western end of the line. The entire trip took about fifty minutes, and as the train slowed into Herrsching station, we could already see signs pointing toward Ammersee, one of the largest and most scenic lakes in southern Bavaria.

A short walk led us from the station to the lakefront promenade, where the landscape opened suddenly and dramatically. The Ammersee stretched out before us in vast, gleaming blue, its far shore barely visible through a soft haze. The promenade ran along the edge of the lake, lined with wooden piers, sailboats, and shady trees.

Ammersee

We started with a walk along the promenade, one of the most pleasant in all of Bavaria. Here and there, benches overlooked the lake, inviting visitors to pause and soak in the tranquillity. Our next stop was Scheuermann Castle (Schloss Scheuermann), located close to the lake. Built in the late 19th century, the castle stood modest in scale but rich in character; a neo-Gothic residence of red brick and pointed towers.

Schloss Scheuermann

In the afternoon, we decided to explore the opposite side of the lake and took a boat across the Ammersee. The ferry glided smoothly over the still water, passing quiet coves and stretches of reed-lined shore. The boat made its way toward Dießen am Ammersee, a town known for its historic monastery church.

A short walk from the pier led us uphill through narrow streets to the Marienmünster, a baroque church that dominated the skyline. Its white façade and twin towers gleamed in the sunlight. Inside, the ceilings were covered in frescoes depicting scenes from the life of the Virgin Mary, surrounded by intricate stucco work and gilded moldings.

After visiting the church, we walked back down to the lakeshore. The ferry ride back to Herrsching was slower, almost meditative. We lingered a while longer in Herrsching, before taking the S-Bahn back to Munich.

 

Passau – The City of Three Rivers

We set out early from Munich Hauptbahnhof on a regional train heading east toward Passau, the city where three rivers – the Danube, the Inn, and the Ilz – come together. The journey itself was scenic, lasting a little over two hours. The train passed through the rolling landscapes of Lower Bavaria. As we approached Passau, the terrain grew more dramatic; the train ran parallel to the Danube, which wound gracefully between forested hills.

Stepping out of Passau Hauptbahnhof, we followed signs leading toward the Altstadt, the old town, which lay at the confluence of the rivers. The route passed narrow streets lined with pastel-coloured façades, wrought-iron balconies, and ornate signs that revealed traces of Passau’s Baroque heritage.

Our first stop was the Three Rivers Confluence (Dreiflüsseeck), the very point where the Danube, Inn, and Ilz meet. Walking along the Danube promenade, we reached the narrow tip of the old town, where the stone walkway opened to a panoramic view. The merging of the rivers was surprisingly visible; the greenish-blue of the Inn, the dark tone of the Ilz, and the brownish hue of the Danube flowed side by side before blending downstream.

Dreiflüsseeck at Passau

From there, we climbed the steep path leading up to the Veste Oberhaus, the fortress that towered above the city on the opposite bank of the Danube. The walk was steep but rewarding, with stone steps winding through forested slopes and occasional viewpoints overlooking the rooftops below. The fortress, founded in the 13th century, stood massive and intact; a stronghold of white and ochre walls, fortified towers, and arched gateways.

Veste Oberhaus at Passau

Inside, from the observation terrace, the view was unforgettable: the entire old town lay below like a map; a narrow peninsula flanked by shining rivers, the spire of St. Stephan’s Cathedral rising in the centre, and beyond it, the gentle curve of the Danube disappearing into the east. It was easy to understand why Passau was often called the “Venice of Bavaria.”

Dom St. Stephan at Passau

Descending back into the old town, we walked toward the Old Town Hall (Altes Rathaus) on Rathausplatz. Its façade was painted in soft yellow and decorated with a clock tower. The square around it, Residence Square (Residenzplatz), was surrounded by elegant baroque buildings with arcaded walkways and a stone fountain in the centre.

Not far from there rose the majestic St. Stephan’s Cathedral (Dom St. Stephan), Passau’s architectural centrepiece. The cathedral’s twin white towers dominated the skyline. Inside, the vast baroque interior overwhelmed us with light and ornamentation; frescoed ceilings, gilded altars, marble columns, and cherub-filled stucco. But what truly set it apart was its organ, one of the largest in the world, with more than 17,000 pipes.

We continued wandering through the cobbled lanes of the Old Town, each corner revealing something unexpected; hidden courtyards, painted facades, or small archways leading to the riverbanks. We stopped briefly at the Schiabling Tower, a round medieval tower that once formed part of the city’s fortifications. From there, we walked along the Inn promenade, where the pastel colours of the houses reflected on the river’s surface in the afternoon light.

As the day drew to a close, we crossed one of the bridges over the Inn and turned for a final look back at Passau, before returning to Munich by the evening train. Passau had been a perfect day trip; compact enough to explore on foot, rich in history, and framed by the beauty of the rivers that defined its existence.

 

Lindau – The Jewel of Lake Constance

We took an early morning train from Munich Hauptbahnhof bound for Lindau, the Bavarian island town on the shores of Lake Constance (Bodensee). The journey, lasting a little over two hours, ran southwest through rolling meadows and gentle hills, dotted with traditional Bavarian villages. As the train approached its destination, the scenery changed dramatically; the vast expanse of the Bodensee appeared on the horizon, stretching endlessly toward Switzerland and Austria. The train finally crossed a narrow causeway and arrived at Lindau-Insel station, located right on the island’s edge.

Stepping out, we were greeted by cobbled streets and historic facades of the old town of Lindau, sitting on a small island connected to the mainland by a bridge. We began our exploration at the Harbour (Hafen); the heart of Lindau and its most photographed spot. The harbour opened like a stage before us, framed by the Bavarian Lion statue on one side and the Lighthouse (Neuer Leuchtturm) on the other, both standing guard at the entrance to the port.

The Lighthouse and the Bavarian Lion at the harbour of Lindau

The Bavarian Lion, a massive stone sculpture over six meters high, faced the lake proudly, its gaze fixed on the distant Alps. Opposite it rose the Lighthouse, built in the mid-19th century, its white cylindrical tower topped with a red roof and viewing balcony. We climbed the spiral staircase to the top; a slightly strenuous ascent rewarded with one of the most spectacular views in Bavaria. From above, the Bodensee spread out in shades of blue and silver, the Austrian and Swiss shores faintly visible across the water, and the Alps formed a grand backdrop.

Descending again, we wandered along the waterfront promenade. Colourful boats lined the quay, and old buildings with frescoed facades framed the harbour’s edge. The promenade curved gently around the island, leading us into the narrow lanes of the Altstadt (Old Town). We soon reached the Old Town Hall (Altes Rathaus), one of Lindau’s finest architectural landmarks. Built in the late Gothic style, its stepped gable façade was covered in colourful frescoes depicting scenes from the city’s history, trade, and maritime heritage.

Altes Rathaus at Lindau

Just beside it stood the newer Town Hall, a baroque structure contrasting beautifully with the older Gothic one. From there, we walked to the Münster Unserer Lieben Frau, the town’s main church. Its white baroque towers rose gracefully above the rooftops. Inside, the calm and bright interior was adorned with delicate stucco and pastel frescoes. A short walk away stood the St. Stephan’s Church, older and simpler, offering a glimpse into the earlier Gothic period. Together, the two churches reflected the town’s deep-rooted spiritual and artistic heritage.

Continuing through the narrow alleys, we reached the Mangturm, the medieval watchtower that once guarded Lindau’s old harbour entrance. Its pointed roof and ivy-covered stone walls made it look almost like something from a storybook. A little further stood the Diebsturm, the “Thieves’ Tower,” another remnant of Lindau’s medieval fortifications. With its octagonal structure and turrets, it looked both imposing and oddly picturesque. We followed the lakeside paths around the edge of the island, where gardens and benches overlooked the water.

Mangturm and the Promenade of Lindau

As the train carried us back toward Munich, the lights of the lakeside towns flickered briefly outside the window before vanishing into darkness. The day in Lindau had been unforgettable; a meeting point of cultures, borders, and landscapes, where Bavarian craftsmanship met the vast serenity of Lake Constance.

Munich: A Year in the Heart of Bavaria

Our stay in Munich spanned from 2005 to 2006, a year and a half that left an indelible mark on our life, outlook, and professional career. Living in the heart of Bavaria offered not just a glimpse into German culture, but also the opportunity to explore its art, science, architecture, festivals, and way of life from within. Munich became our window to Europe; a place from which weekend journeys radiated across the continent, from the Alps to the Mediterranean.

It was not until now, that I finally felt the thrust to pen down these experiences. Not as a diary of the past, but as a recollection of moments that had quietly matured into lasting memories. In the following months, I intend to continue writing about our travels across Europe, all of which took place during that unforgettable year in Munich; a year that shaped both our curiosity and our sense of place in the wider world.

 

The Historic Heart of Munich

Living at Münchner Freiheit, the vibrant centre of the Schwabing district, had its own advantages. Once the heart of Munich’s bohemian life, Schwabing still carried an artistic pulse; leafy boulevards lined with cafés, galleries, and boutique stores. Modern sculptures stood beside elegant 19th-century façades, and the nearby Walking Man, a towering white figure striding purposefully along Leopoldstrasse, seemed to symbolize Munich’s blend of art, humour, and forward motion.

The Walking Man at Leopoldstrasse

One summer morning, we started walking down Leopoldstrasse, passing through lively neighbourhoods, until we reached Universität. The Siegestor (Victory Gate) stands proudly between the University district and Schwabing, a triumphal arch crowned with a statue of Bavaria. The broad Ludwigstrasse stretched before us; one of Munich’s grandest boulevards, designed in the 19th century under King Ludwig I. The Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität (LMU) dominated the University district, its neo-classical façade overlooking the bustling Geschwister-Scholl-Platz, named after the student resistance group (Scholl siblings) of World War II. Opposite stood the Ludwigskirche, easily recognizable by its twin towers and monumental fresco above the altar.

As we followed Ludwigstrasse southward, the architecture grew more regal, leading us naturally to Odeonsplatz, one of Munich’s most distinguished squares. Here, Italian-inspired grandeur met Bavarian pride. The Feldherrnhalle, modelled after Florence’s Loggia dei Lanzi, honoured the generals of Bavaria’s past, while the ochre façade of the Theatinerkirche, with its ornate Baroque towers, dominated the skyline. The square marked the edge of the old royal district; a symbolic gateway between the monarchy and the city.

Feldhernhalle

Theatinerkirche

The Residenz, stands as a sprawling complex of lavish courtyards, ornate halls, and museums, reflecting centuries of Bavarian history and artistic grandeur. Nearby stood the Staatstheater with its elegant neoclassical façade; one of Munich’s premier opera and musical theatres. Maximilianstraße, Munich’s elegant boulevard lined with luxury boutiques and historic buildings, seamlessly runs through the historic district, serving as both a scenic promenade and a vital axis linking the city’s royal and commercial heart. 

Antiquarium Hall of Residenz

A short walk along Residenzstrasse brought us to Marienplatz, the beating heart of Munich since the Middle Ages. The Neue Rathaus, with its soaring neo-Gothic spire, commanded attention, and at its centre, the Glockenspiel came to life as crowds gathered to watch its mechanical figurines reenact historical events. In and around the square stood some of Munich’s most recognizable landmarks: the Frauenkirche, with its twin onion-domed towers rising above the rooftops; the Alte Rathaus, with its pointed tower recalling medieval days; and the lively Hofbräuhaus, where centuries of Bavarian warmth echoed through vaulted beer halls.

Neue Rathaus at Marienplatz

From Marienplatz, we strolled down Neuhauser Strasse, a pedestrian boulevard alive with shops, street performers, and fountains, leading us toward Karlsplatz (Stachus). The historic Karlstor, one of the city’s old gates, framed the scene with its white arches. The square connected old Munich with the newer quarters, symbolizing the city’s evolution from medieval town to modern metropolis.

Frauenkirche

A few minutes farther west, the landscape opened into Hauptbahnhof, Munich’s main railway station. The area around it revealed another face of the city; cosmopolitan and energetic. The imposing Justizpalast (Palace of Justice), with its grand glass dome, stood as a striking example of late 19th-century architecture. Nearby, the neo-Gothic St. Paul’s Church, with its soaring spires, added grace to the skyline.

Karlsplatz Stachus

Königsplatz – The Classical Forum

From Hauptbahnhof, the U-Bahn line U2 connects Königsplatz, where Munich’s rhythm seemed to slow into a graceful harmony of stone, symmetry, and open space. The approach itself was striking; wide boulevards lined with stately buildings gradually giving way to an expansive square. Designed in the early 19th century under King Ludwig I, Königsplatz was conceived as a “window to antiquity,” a place where architecture, art, and learning would merge to reflect Munich’s identity as the “Athens on the Isar.”

Propyläen at Königsplatz

As we entered the square, the scene unfolded like a stage set in marble. At the western end rose the Propyläen, a monumental gateway with Doric columns and sculpted friezes depicting scenes from Greek history. Facing it across the vast green expanse stood two temple-like museums; the Glyptothek and the Staatliche Antikensammlungen.

The Glyptothek, Munich’s oldest museum, housed a remarkable collection of Greek and Roman sculptures. Inside, the galleries displayed masterpieces such as the Barberini Faun, Aegina Marbles, and Bust of Homer. Across the square, the Antikensammlungen (State Collection of Antiquities) complemented it with exquisite pottery, jewellery, and bronzes, giving insight into the everyday life of the ancient world.

Glyptothek at Königsplatz

Between these monumental façades, Königsplatz itself exuded tranquillity. The square’s orderly geometry and pale stone façades seemed to resonate with the city’s intellectual pulse, connecting art, history, and urban space in perfect balance.

Englischer Garten – The Green Heart

Few urban parks in the world rival the sheer size and serenity of Englischer Garten, a vast expanse of greenery stretching from the city center to the northern suburbs along the Isar River. Spanning over 900 acres, it felt less like a park and more like a living landscape. Entering from the Universität area, the park opened into sweeping meadows, shaded groves, and winding trails that seemed to invite endless wandering.

Monopteros at Englischer Garten

At the heart of the garden rose the Monopteros, a small Greek-style temple perched atop a hill, offering panoramic views over the park and the distant skyline of Munich’s old town. Not far away, the Chinese Tower (Chinesischer Turm) stood surrounded by one of the city’s most popular Beer Gartens, its wooden pagoda echoing with the sounds of a live brass band.

Chinesischer Turm at Englischer Garten

What made the Englischer Garten remarkable was its balance. Whether one preferred a leisurely stroll by the streams, a casual game of Frisbee on the lawns, or simply resting under the soothing summer sun, the park offered a timeless refuge from urban life.

Nymphenburg Palace – A Baroque Masterpiece

A short tram ride from Hauptbahnhof brought us to the western district of Neuhausen-Nymphenburg. The moment we approached the Nymphenburg Palace, its immense Baroque façade appeared like a vision of elegance reflected upon a long, still canal.

Nymphenburg Palace

Commissioned in the 17th century as a summer residence for the Wittelsbach dynasty, Nymphenburg embodied the wealth and taste of Bavaria’s ruling family. Crossing the stone bridge and stepping into the courtyard, we entered the world of ornate halls, gilded ceilings, and sweeping perspectives designed to impress visiting nobility.

Inside, the centrepiece was the Steinerner Saal, a magnificent ballroom stretching across two floors. Its towering frescoes by Johann Baptist Zimmermann depicted scenes from the heavens. Each room beyond unfolded with distinct character; the Queen’s Bedroom preserved the bed in which King Ludwig II, the “Fairy Tale King,” was born; and the galleries displayed family portraits chronicling centuries of Wittelsbach lineage.

Stepping out into the palace park, we entered a vast landscape that felt like a living tapestry of Baroque and Romantic design. Long axial avenues stretched into the distance, intersected by canals and dotted with smaller pavilions. The Amalienburg, a Rococo hunting lodge with mirrored interiors and silver stucco work, was the most exquisite of these. Nearby, the Pagodenburg, Badenburg, and Magdalenenklause each reflected a different architectural fantasy; from Oriental motifs to rustic hermitage charm.

Amalienburg

The Art Museums – The Pinakothek Ensemble

A short tram ride from Hauptbahnhof brought us to Kunstareal, Munich’s art quarter. Here, amid tree-lined streets and minimalist plazas, stood the three great Pinakothek museums; a triad that captured the full sweep of European art history, from Renaissance masters to modern abstraction.

Our visit began at the Alte Pinakothek, one of the world’s oldest galleries, founded by King Ludwig I in the early 19th century. We paused before the intense gaze of Dürer’s “Self-Portrait”. Nearby hung Leonardo da Vinci’s “Madonna of the Carnation”, delicate and serene, while Rubens’ monumental “The Great Last Judgment” dominated an entire wall with its vivid colour. Works by Rembrandt, Raphael, and Titian surrounded us, each canvas alive with texture, movement, and emotion.

Alte Pinakothek

Just across the street, the Neue Pinakothek bridged the transition from classical art to the modern age. Here we found Caspar David Friedrich’s misty landscapes, where solitude met spirituality, and Monet’s gardens, alive with vibrating colour. Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers”, one of the museum’s treasures, radiated its familiar warmth, its yellows and greens glowing like captured sunlight.

The Sunflowers by Van Gogh

Finally, we entered the Pinakothek der Moderne, a striking contrast in both architecture and spirit. Its minimalist concrete and glass structure opened into soaring white spaces that celebrated 20th- and 21st-century creativity. Inside, art, design, and technology coexisted in fluid dialogue. We stood before Picasso’s cubist experiments, Kandinsky’s abstract symphonies, and Warhol’s pop art icons, each challenging the boundaries of form and meaning.

Olympia Zentrum and BMW Welt

Through U-Bahn line U3, Münchner Freiheit was well connected to Olympia Zentrum, where Munich’s spirit of innovation and optimism came to life in sweeping glass and steel. Built for the 1972 Olympic Games, the Olympiapark still felt futuristic decades later. The park spread out in gentle hills and reflective lakes, an architectural symphony where nature and engineering intertwined effortlessly.

Olympic Stadium as viewed from Olympic Tower

The Olympic Stadium, with tent-like roof supported by slender steel cables, was inspired by the Alps. Even from afar, its design seemed to float; transparent yet monumental. In 2006, the stadium hosted a fan park for the FIFA World Cup, welcoming football fans from around the world and allowing them to watch matches featuring their favourite teams on multiple giant screens, all free of charge.

Fan Park at Olympic Stadium during 2006 FIFA World Cup

Just beside the stadium stood the Olympia Tower, piercing the sky at nearly 300 meters. We took the high-speed elevator to the top, where the observation deck offered an unparalleled 360° view of Munich, the silver curves of the stadium roof below, and the faint silhouette of the Alps on the horizon. The domes of the Frauenkirche was visible in the distance, and the Isar River was seen winding through the city.

A short walk from the park brought us to a striking contrast of design; the BMW Headquarters and BMW Welt, Munich’s tribute to precision engineering and modern aesthetics. The headquarters tower, shaped like a four-cylinder engine, stood as both architectural statement and symbol of industrial excellence.

BMW Headquarters and BMW Welt as viewed from Olympia Tower

Across the street, stood the BMW Welt building, with its twisting glass façade and futuristic curves. Inside, it was part showroom, part museum, part stage; a celebration of mobility in all its forms. We wandered through interactive exhibits that traced the company’s evolution; from early motorcycles and postwar roadsters to concept cars and electric prototypes.

The BMW Museum, housed in a circular silver structure nearby, deepened the story, blending art and engineering with meticulous detail. Vintage models stood beside engines and design sketches, illustrating how each generation of innovation built upon the last.

 

Allianz Arena – The Modern Cathedral of Football

On my first day in Munich, along the U-Bahn line U6, I first noticed the Allianz Arena. In the evening, the entire stadium was illuminated in a brilliant red, probably hosting a Bayern Munich match. Its futuristic façade glowed from a distance, capturing my imagination immediately. One summer morning, we finally found the time to explore the stadium from within, eager to experience up close what had so captivated us from the train.

Stepping out of the Fröttmaning station, we joined the broad pedestrian walkway that gently curved toward the stadium. The stadium stood roughly ten minutes away, but the approach was designed for anticipation through a steady, ceremonial walk. The structure seemed to float, its façade made of thousands of diamond-shaped ETFE panels that could illuminate in red, blue, or white depending on which team was playing that day.

Allianz Arena during a Bayern Munich match

As we drew closer, the scale became overwhelming. The translucent panels stretched endlessly around the oval, glowing like a living organism. From up close, each panel revealed its texture and engineering precision; a perfect marriage of art and aerodynamics. Inside, our walking tour began at the main concourse. Our guide, a lifelong Bayern Munich supporter, shared stories of the stadium’s design and the city’s footballing passion, pointing out that the arena could host over 75,000 fans yet remain remarkably efficient in structure and acoustics.

We entered through the players’ tunnel, walking the same path as legends of Bayern Munich have for years. Emerging at pitch level, the vastness of the stadium unfolded before us; rows upon rows of red seats rising steeply into the sky. The tour continued through the locker rooms and the press conference hall. The Bayern Munich Museum, with trophies and medals gleamed behind glass displays, completed the experience.

Locker Room of Bayern Munich

Deutsches Museum – A Temple of Science and Innovation

Few places in Munich captured the human spirit of curiosity and invention as powerfully as the Deutsches Museum. Built on its own island in the Isar River; the Museumsinsel; this immense institution stood not just as a museum, but as a celebration of humankind’s boundless drive to understand and create. Inside, more than 30,000 exhibits awaited, spanning everything from the birth of civilization’s tools to the frontiers of modern technology.

Deutsches Museum

We began our exploration in the Mining Exhibit, one of the museum’s most atmospheric experiences. Descending into a recreated network of tunnels, the lights dimmed and the air grew cooler. We walked through scenes of miners chiselling rock, hauling ore, and guiding carts along narrow shafts. The rumble of machinery and the faint scent of damp earth made it feel almost real; a tribute to the labour that fuelled the modern world.

The Energy and Power Hall followed; vast and dynamic, filled with full-scale engines, turbines, and models of hydroelectric systems. A massive steam engine hissed rhythmically beside early electrical generators. Nearby, displays on renewable energy illustrated Germany’s leadership in sustainable technologies.

In the Aviation Hall, suspended aircraft floated above our heads; fragile early gliders by Otto Lilienthal, gleaming propeller planes, and a full-scale Messerschmitt Bf 109, its polished metal frame reflecting the lights from above. Just beyond, the Space Exploration Gallery transported us beyond the atmosphere. Rockets, satellites, and a full-scale Apollo capsule told the story of humanity’s journey into the cosmos.

Aviation Hall at Deutsches Museum

The Ship Navigation Hall, stretching along the river, was equally captivating. Inside, the hull of an actual sailing ship anchored the space, surrounded by models of historic vessels and navigational instruments.

Among all these marvels, the Physics and Chemistry sections felt particularly close to heart. Demonstrations of optics, electromagnetism, and thermodynamics came alive through hands-on experiments. In the chemistry wing, early laboratory setups illustrated the evolution of materials science; glass retorts, Bunsen burners, and intricate distillation systems tracing the roots of modern industry. Exhibits on polymers, semiconductors, and nanomaterials bridged past discovery with future innovation.

Interactive Periodic Table at Deutsches Museum

We wandered further into the halls of Computing and Electronics, where the story of the digital revolution unfolded; from the world’s first programmable computers to sleek modern microprocessors. Nearby, the Robotics section demonstrated autonomous machines in action, some shaped like human arms, others like agile insects, all moving with quiet precision.

We ended our visit on the upper terrace, overlooking the Isar River. The Deutsches Museum stood not only as a record of what humanity had built, but as a quiet reminder of what we could still imagine. It lay in the way everything connected; the narrative of progress woven through centuries of trial, failure, and triumph.

 

Oktoberfest – The Spirit of Munich

No stay in Munich could ever be complete without experiencing the city’s most exuberant celebration; the Oktoberfest. Every September, the Theresienwiese grounds south of the city transformed into a vibrant fairground of sound, colour, and tradition. Even from the Theresienwiese U-Bahn station, we could sense the rising excitement; the hum of accordion music, the clinking of beer mugs, and the cheerful swirl of voices in a dozen languages blending into one universal mood of festivity.

Walking up the broad avenue toward the fairgrounds felt like entering another world. The massive beer tents loomed ahead like temporary cathedrals of joy. Above the sea of people, the Bavaria Statue stood in serene grandeur, guarding the festival grounds as she had since the 19th century. Around her, tens of thousands of visitors; locals in Dirndl and Lederhosen, travellers, families, and friends; filled the open space with laughter and music.

Hofbräu-Festzelt at Oktoberfest

Each Festzelt, or beer tent, had its own character and loyal following. The Hofbräu-Festzelt, the largest and liveliest, throbbed with energy; long wooden tables packed end-to-end, oompah bands playing folk tunes, and servers expertly balancing giant steins of golden beer as they weaved through the crowd. Nearby, the Augustiner-Festhalle, known for its traditional atmosphere, poured beer directly from wooden barrels, its amber hue glowing in the soft light. The Löwenbräu and Paulaner tents offered their own charms with brass bands and clinking mugs.

Paulaner Tent at Oktoberfest

The rhythm of the festival was infectious. As the bands played Bavarian folk songs and cheerful anthems, strangers raised their glasses together, singing and swaying on wooden benches. Between toasts and laughter, we found ourselves caught in the timeless joy of the moment; a living expression of Gemütlichkeit, that untranslatable German word for warmth, friendliness, and belonging.

Beyond the tents, Oktoberfest unfolded into a full-blown carnival of rides and attractions. The Ferris wheel towered over the fairground, offering panoramic views of the city and the distant Alps. The Olympia Looping, the world’s largest portable roller coaster, sent riders twisting and looping through five dizzying loops, eliciting laughter and screams in equal measure. The Wellenflug, a giant swing ride, flung passengers high into the sky, their chairs spinning in wide arcs with the wind rushing past. Classic attractions like the Carousel and Breakdance ride blended nostalgia with adrenaline, while the Haunted House and Ghost Train delighted younger visitors with playful thrills.

Olympia Looping - Roller Coaster ride at Oktoberfest

Everywhere we looked, bright lights spun, colours whirled, and the mechanical hum of the rides mixed with the music from the tents to create an immersive spectacle. This was not just a festival; it was the soul of the city laid bare; proud of its traditions, open to the world, and brimming with life. In those few weeks each year, Munich became not just a place on the map but a feeling; of togetherness, warmth, and a shared celebration of life.

Lions of Munich

Some of the places in Munich which had always captivated me were Marienplatz and Karlsplatz, and the pedestrian street connecting these two (Neuhauser Strasse). Marienplatz is the geographical center of the city, and is always so vibrant that even if you are all by yourself strolling past the colorful shops, you will never feel lonely.

The Twins at Kaufinger Strasse

The very next day after I reached Munich, I visited Marienplatz with some enthusiastic new friends. Amongst a lot of attractions, I was fascinated by the colorful lion statues which have ornamented the fußgängerzone. They were part of the Lion Parade; the aim of which was to make an interesting spectacle for visitors during 2006 FIFA World Cup. Not only were they interesting, I also found them adorable. The statues, weighing about 50 kg each, are made of fiberglass-reinforced plastic and can support 3 times their weight (see below).

Not exactly 3 times, what did you think (see above for explanation)!!!
 

Silpi's second day in Munich; ΔT = negative 30 Kelvin from Kolkata
 

In June 2006, I was fortunate enough to experience the World Cup Soccer extravaganza. After the world cup was over, most of the statues were removed and sold off for charity. Some of the lions, being owned by the respective shops and positioned on private property, still remained on the streets, reminiscent of the football fever. Throughout my recent visit to Munich for a conference, I was surprised to find some of those in unusual places, like in front of International Congress Centre at Messestadt West, which is on the eastern outskirts of the city.
 

One of the few remaining ones, at Messe München

A City of Timeless Harmony

Munich revealed itself as a city where history, art, science, and modern life coexist seamlessly. From the bohemian streets of Münchner Freiheit, the splendour of Marienplatz, the royal grandeur of Nymphenburg Palace, to the cultural depth of the Pinakothek museums and the innovative spirit of BMW Welt, the city balanced tradition with progress at every turn. Modern landmarks like the Olympia Zentrum, Allianz Arena and the interactive wonders of the Deutsches Museum highlighted Munich’s energy and ingenuity, while its vibrant public spaces, elegant boulevards, and lush parks reflected a human-scale charm. Across it all, Munich felt alive; a city where curiosity, creativity, and celebration converge, leaving an enduring impression of elegance, warmth, and timeless vitality.