Unfortunately I had been so efficient at planning what I wanted to do and see in Munich that on Saturday when I woke up, my last day in the city, I actually had no idea what I should do. I didn't feel like tackling any of those things on my "to-eventually-do" list, or even the more pressing items (like packing), since I still wanted to do laundry and take only clean clothes to Clausthal. I finally headed out into the city at around 9 to see if I could find some final souvenirs for friends and family, and chanced to run into none other than Sam, heading in for the same purpose. I gladly offered to accompany him and it was much more enjoyable hitting up the souvenir shops and wagons with a friend. Most of the stuff was just too kitschy for my taste, but I did eventually manage to find something cute for a very good friend of mine (and resist buying several unnecessary souvenirs) and a piece of jewelry that will hopefully suit my sister's rather unpredictable style. However, even after looking at the majority of souvenir shops in the city center we couldn't drag out our adventure much past 11, and so I reluctantly took my leave of Sam. I had other plans in the city center, but they technically didn't start until 12...
I GOT TO SEE GRIFFIN ON SATURDAY!!!!!!!!
So, Griffin is only about one of the kindest, most thoughtful, most servant-hearted people I know (with the possible exception of my boyfriend). He is one of the first people I remember meeting at Princeton, at the PEF fall cookout, partially because of his unusual name (and accompanying nametag, upon which he always [and sometimes exclusively] draws a griffon) and partly because of his unusual look, with his excessive height and crazy hair. He was part of the Welcome Team and as such brought me (with his partner-in-crime, Alex, who couldn't be more opposite to him) candy and encouraging notes at particularly stressful times of my freshman year, such as midterms. His striking sense of the ridiculous and willingness to go on spontaneous adventures has led to some good stories over the last two years and a solid friendship that will hopefully last past graduation (Princeton just won't be the same without him). His younger sister, Lillie, is a year below me (unfortunately, she's nothing like him either, as I found out) and was also participating in the Princeton in Munich program, so his family decided to kick off a vacation in Europe by coming to Munich to pick her up at the end of the program. When I heard that Griffin, one of my best friends from Princeton, was going to be in Germany, and not only that, but in Munich, I was ecstatic, to say the least. I had dedicated the entirety of Saturday afternoon to hanging out with him, but we hadn't yet decided precisely what we would do. We had agreed to meet at his hotel at noontime, but I was so excited to see him that I couldn't possibly wait that long, and by 11:30 I was already pacing the lobby of his hotel, waiting for him. He finally appeared at about 11:45 and, in quintessential Griffin manner, observed in a completely monotone voice, "You're early." After getting thoroughly grilled by his mother - "Does he have enough money? Does he know how to get back to the hotel? Do you have a cell phone, in case anything happens?" - and assuring her that since he had just graduated from Princeton, he could probably take care of himself, even if he wasn't with someone who had spent an entire month in the city (her concern made me smile), we set off to find adventure. Or rather, lunch.
After we had filled our stomachs, we wandered over to where I had previously marked the location of a bike rental store, only getting lost once along the way (and not really lost, just ending up in a different part of town from where I was headed). Unfortunately, when we got there we were informed that all of the bikes were back at Marienplatz for use with bike tours, so we had to walk all the way back to where we had JUST come from. We got there, only to be informed that they needed ALL of the bikes for the tours and couldn't possibly spare two to rent out, which was incredibly frustrating. So we went to another bike rental place that was closer to Griffin's hotel in the first place, though it cost us a couple of Euros more to rent from them. Poor Griffin! He never complained, but happened to mention in the midst of all this wandering that he had foolishly chosen to break in a new pair of dress shoes the hard way only a couple of days before and had serious blisters on his feet - oops! Finally we obtained the bikes and set off to explore English Garden as I had been hoping to do for weeks. The big attractions in English Garden are the perpetual surf wave, caused by the shape of the bottom of the fast-flowing Isar, and the Nude Meadow, where people come to sunbathe, well, nude. The latter we weren't particularly interested in seeing, but it was a cloudy and surprisingly cool day, so we weren't in too much danger of coming suddenly upon large groups of the unclothed. In fact, I had planned it to be much warmer than it ended up being, and wasn't quite dressed warm enough, but as long as we were moving it wasn't too bad. English Garden is the largest inner-city park in the world, and we rode the entire length of it (after all, we had rented the bikes for three hours, so we had plenty of time). There was lots of woods and plenty of fields, and at one point we even stumbled upon a massive herd of sheep - yes, real live wooly bleating sheep - complete with shepherds and sheepdogs. I almost expected Babe to come running around the edge of the herd and to hear "That'll do, pig"... :D I was kind of looking for the surf wave and had gotten it into my head that it was at the opposite end of the park, so we rode down there and went to the river, but it was wide and flat and shallow. We then rode back up the park along the river, hoping to stumble upon it, but no luck. By the time we got back to our starting point it was starting to sprinkle and it had been a little more than two hours, so we gave up our search and returned the bikes. When we mentioned that we hadn't been able to find the surf wave, the owner of the bike rental shop rolled his eyes, said "WHERE do you guys study, again?", pulled out a map, and circled a spot right next to the corner of the park where we had entered - not on the other side, as I had thought. Oops. In my defense, I had never actually looked up WHERE the surf wave was, just assumed that if we went into English Garden and followed the river, we'd find it. Well, in order that the afternoon not be completely wasted, we walked back up to the park to see the wave - and it was worth it. I almost started drooling, imagining surfing that wave in an open-deck canoe as I used to in high school. :) The cool and drizzly weather didn't deter the more hardcore surfers, and there were about a dozen of them lining up on either side of the river, waiting for their chance to surf the wave. The unpleasant weather did mean, however, that only the better surfers were out - which was a treat. I got some super-sweet videos and pictures of the action. Then we meandered back towards Griffin's apartment, but I was loathe to see him go. We stopped at an ice-cream place for a treat and to give us an excuse to talk longer, to my delight (I think Griffin did it for me, though - he's lactose intolerant :P), but eventually it was time for us to part. The sight of a familiar face had really brightened my day, and in my excitement I forgot to get a picture with Griffin, something that I will probably always regret, but at least I will have the memories.
I returned to the Wohnheim with mixed feelings, and still no desire to pack, though my departure on the morrow was growing ever closer. Fortunately I was spared from this unpleasant task by a group outing to a nearby restaurant as a sort of "last hurrah". The fare was traditionally German (my favorite) and quite delicious. I resisted the urge to order Wiener Schnitzel, my old standby, and instead decided on a dish of Knödel, Beefsteckel, and Weißsalat, which I mostly chose because it included bacon in the salad and I knew that Knödel were both very traditionally German and quite tasty. The meat was unfortunately a little tough and the Knödel dry unless I soaked it in the sauce from the meat, but overall it was a good, hearty meal. And of course, in true German tradition, I washed it all down with a beer. That's right, Erin Mills drank an entire half-liter of beer. It was the first *real* alcohol I had ingested, well, ever. A couple of sips doesn't compare to sitting down and drinking an entire 0.5 liters of alcohol (that's more than a standard beer bottle - they usually come in 0.33 liter sizes). And yes, I felt the effects, undeniably. Things in my peripheral vision started to fade just a tiny bit, but that wasn't as noticeable as the swirling sensation of my head. I felt that I didn't want to move it too quickly or everything might tip from horizontal. It felt a little bit like after you spin around for a long time and are just recovering from being dizzy - things are no longer spinning but you still feel that everything is not nailed down quite as solidly around you as it normally is. Now, since this was my first time ingesting a significant quantity of alcohol, I was hyper-aware of the potential effects and doing my utmost to both recognize and stifle them. I was extra-conscious of my volume and tried very hard not to be loud or extra chatty (or at least not any more than usual - honestly, I'm a pretty loud person, as a rule). I must have been succeeding because about 3/4 of the way through the meal Sam, who was sitting across from me and who had nearly finished his beer, lamented, "I'm such a lightweight." Then, observing that my glass was at a comparable level to his, he squinted at me, observing me for a moment, then asked, "Why aren't you as drunk as me? You never drink!" Cooly returning his gaze (but with an impish grin), I replied, "How do you know I'm not as drunk as you? No one has ever seen me drunk to know what I act like." Sam had to concede that this was good logic, and it was an honest answer on my part - I was semi-unsure whether what I was feeling was even from the alcohol or the fact that I was tired and had just eaten my first hearty meal in quite a while. And indeed, when discussing the matter with my boyfriend later, he remarked, "Well, oftentimes you act the way a lot of people do when they're a little drunk (referring to my chattiness)." So I think we can say I was buzzed at the most. And at this point that's quite enough for me. As a matter of fact, I don't really even like that feeling - I've heard people say that you have "a couple beers" to make conversation easier, but if I don't need that aid, why bother?
To celebrate this last meal, at which both of the grad students and Professor Rankin were in attendance, a couple of the other program participants had gone to a chocolate shop and purchased chocolate cockroaches, in reference to the main character in Kafka's Metamorphosis. The grad students loved them and generously shared the delicious vermin with us - renewing my resolve to purchase a significant amount of German chocolate to be liberally distributed as souvenirs once I return to the US. Finally we had all finished our meal and it was time to return once again to the Wohnheim - as I walked out of the restaurant I noted satisfactorily that my balance had not been at all affected by the alcohol (and snuck a sideways glance at Sam who had even ordered a second half-liter of beer halfway through the meal, but he wasn't exactly stumbling drunk either, just a little dreamy). Back at the Wohnheim I finally had to face the reality of my approaching departure (a funny juxtaposition there ;]) and traipsed down to the basement to start my laundry. I was intending to watch a movie with some of the other members of the group, but was sent upstairs furtively to sign thank-you cards for Hannes and Mareike and got distracted talking to Dan H. for a couple of hours (partially because his birthday was the following day). As could perhaps be expected, a rather rowdy group of individuals met in one of the communal kitchens to "take care of" the remainder of the group's alcohol supply, and I was invited to join, but decided against it after considering the frightfully large collection of bottles on the table (including absinthe cigars...??), the lateness of the hour (it was now past midnight), and all the packing I had yet to do. There may come a day when Erin Mills decides to drink more than just a little bit - but it won't be the day before she needs to travel across the county. So I instead brought my laundry back to my room so that I could pack first thing in the morning (though it wasn't all quite dry), laid it out on my various shelves and sills, curled up in my bed with the too-big pillow and thick comforter for the very last time, and enjoyed a few hours of very sound slumber.
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