Day 7- Train from Prague to Munich

As it turns out, I was sharing a room with some guy who went to the University of Michigan, now lives in New York City and whose name I cannot for the life of me remember. Despite the long running rivalry between Ohio State (of which I am an alumnus) and Michigan (see above), we did not discuss sports of any kind. We were both heading to Munich and, with nothing better to do, we talked to each other. Mostly, I believe, to reassure each other that neither person was going to steal the other guy’s wallet in the middle of the night.

In any case, we ended swapping a few travelling stories, work stories, the story of how the heck we each ended up in Prague and what we were planning for Munich. He was intending to visit some friends from Munich he met when he was attending a university in Barcelona. I was, of course, intending to wander aimlessly around Munich, or possibly take a day trip down to Salzburg depending on a.) whatever I felt like doing at the time or b.) another decision-making process I have yet to develop.

The train ride was otherwise uneventful aside from what seemed like the six or eight times somebody woke us up by throwing open our door and half yelling in German for what I correctly assumed to be our passports. The intervals between were correctly timed to be the exact time span needed to allow my heart to calm down enough to let me get to sleep. Presumably the first check was actually to make sure we were allowed to enter the country, the second to double check the previous passport checkers and the next 4 to 6 checks were installed merely because they were entertaining.

I arrived in Munich completely exhausted, very confused, and freezing my ass off.