The first stop, two minutes into our ride at the southern edge of the English Garden, was Munich's own surfing mecca. Necessity being the mother of invention (Munich is a long way from the sea), the city has installed an underwater obstruction in one of the Isar River channels, creating a standing wave just north of an overpass. When we came on the scene, there were half a dozen surfers taking turns on the wave: five soaking wet guys and a woman--dry from the ankles up--who was showing the guys how it's done.
Eventually I had to peel Tobias off the bridge; he would have been happy to call off the ride and watch the surfers all day. He googled the wave as soon as we got home, and reported how many people have suffered grave injury in the churning waters, from shattered kneecaps to severed arteries to paraplegia.
Down the road, a main attraction at the Nymphenburg Castle--which is more like a palace than a castle--turned out to be the cobblestone plaza out front. It was a fine place to hotdog it on a rent-a-bike. The castle, meanwhile, is a neoclassical behemoth, 650 meters (7 football fields, give or take) in length, with gold leaf detailing, and a formal garden out back that stretches half way to France. A Bavarian prince allegedly built it as a reward to his wife for bearing him a son.** I have the same reaction to these royal residences that I have to the big cathedrals: quite amazing, but how on earth did the aristocracy get away with this sort of thing for so long?
Last but not least, a picture of Tobias on a Munich bike path, flouting the advice of Satchel Paige:
He was determined to stay ahead of his sister (who made it clear, by the way, that she did not want her picture taken). She eventually dropped him on a narrower path along a busy city street, leaving him stuck behind a middle-aged couple out for a leisurely ride. In his frustration, Tobias whipped onto the sidewalk to pass the couple. The man scolded him at the next intersection. Tobias said, "That guy yelled at me in German. I'm not sure what he said." I suggested we review the clues: sideswiping the guy on the right, driving two pedestrians up a wall, and arriving at the corner with a former flower bed wrapped up in his bike chain. Tobias said, "Dad, there were no pedestrians!"
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**I feel some cynicism coming on here. Somehow this sounds like a great, romantic, and highly suspect story that's been forged into a fact by repetition in one guidebook after another. I can imagine deciding, in the throes of euphoria outside the birthing chamber, to reward my wife with a huge castle--oh boy, am I going to get myself in trouble here--but a few idle days or weeks later, after the endorphins have settled down? "Honey, how about if I build you nice a tool shed instead?"
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