Reflections, Part 3

My third day in Europe was one of the most special to date. A short train ride from the Hauptbanhof took us outside of the city and into a beautiful countryside full of rolling hills, window boxes, and the Alps beckoning at the horizon. We got off at Bad Tolz's train station, a tiny little outpost much like the dozens of others I've encountered here. A winding road and a bit of a detour eventually got us into the town center of my childhood home.

The town was beautiful to the point of picture-perfect. Little children giggled and ran circles around smiling mothers, elderly couples sat on benches with wisened looks, and it seemed that every person you made eye contact with smiled and nodded or even offered a cheery "Gutentag". We wandered the main square, stopping in shops and a suggested cafe, and eventually made our way to the bottom of the downtown and to the banks of the Isar river. An adventure called our names when we saw a church on a mountain overlooking the city and decided to find it. The payoff was worth it, rewarding our hike with one of the better vistas I have ever seen. The town stretched out below us, with the river snaking off into the majestic ridgeline in the distance.

After more walking, dinner at Amolfi's, the restaurant we used to frequent when I lived there, was the plan. Sadly it was closed for the day, the one negative in an otherwise perfect day. I would have liked to see if the same place that I acquired my taste for spaghetti lived up to the legacy. Dinner was instead had at a local bar where a friendly waitress was kept company by a stunning white wolf mutt. It was one of a long line of dogs that I have seen here that are more civilized and well-behaved than many college students I know. Dogs go everywhere in Germany, with as much independence as people.

A visit to the old Army Post was the last motion of the day. We hiked up from town to find one of the only things I even vaguely remembered: the backyard of our apartment, complete with the slide that was there when I was a kid, It was nice to see the space being enjoyed by a group of local kids. The Post itself had been fitted with a new cream-colored coat of paint and held two large contemporary public buildings within its walls. The buildings and their spiral-shaped glass facades seemed very out of place amongst the rigid architecture (and history) of the complex. It was surreal to see the place that I had seen in so many pictures, to actually walk in it, to see it from new angles.

After our Post visit, it was time to return to Munchen. I thought about the day's events with an interesting mix of bittersweet emotions as the train took us home. The day couldn't have been better in itself, and yet that was the reason I was a bit down. I wished that my parents were with me to say "This is where.." or "We loved going here", and just to enjoy it with me. I also realized how wonderful it must have been to spend a childhood in this precious town, and I hated that I only remember scattered images at best. However, hindsight is 20/20, and I realize now how lucky I was to even make one return trip to my "roots". Bad Tolz is beautiful, and I'm glad that I can claim a part of its history as my own.

-msr