I was told the sidelined green train outside Dachau was full of Yugoslavians. Their laundry was draped out of every window and their poverty was all too apparent to tourists, but I suppose they were just migrant workers going to Germany for jobs. Who’s to blame them because northern Europe is where the higher standard of living is (better cars and housing) for those who will work for them. By the way, at Dachau, when the train stopped I saw (once) electrified barbed wire fences on curved f-shaped concrete poles. Perhaps they were part of some memorial.
It was clear and cool when I arrived at the München Hbf in Munich after traveling through the Black Forest. Reading the International Herald Tribune was depressing: “In Milan last week bombs were set off at the offices of four U.S. companies in protest against American imperialism”; Red Army Faction bombers; massacre at Tel Aviv airport; strikes by pilots; Czech high-jackings; a British air disaster; and a Japanese terrorist “making his way to London.” Still, it was a time when I proudly wore my American flag on my backpack. I sure wouldn’t do it now.
The 1972 Olympics made Munich spruce up and scaffolding was a common sight. Monuments were being cleaned and buildings painted for the expected influx of tourists. I noticed one building had canvas completely covering it which usually meant sandblasting. That was at Residenzstrasse one of the streets traversed by Hitler during the Beer Hall Putsch on November 9, 1923. I eventually found a room in Munich's left wing student's quarter over a beer hall for 32DM - still no shower. No sooner did I fall on my bed at 6:15 P.M. than a communist demonstration swung around the corner under my window followed by the red hammer and sickle flag. It was mostly women and kids, actually pathetic, although the march was more than a block long. The leaders had to circle the marchers and spur them on with bullhorns: “Weg Mit Dem Reaktionarer Auslandergsetz – whatever that means. The beer hall was more interesting with lots of smoke, beer, and singing. Germans know how to have a good time more than Americans do.
The German Museum was superb, the most remarkable museum I'd ever seen including the Louvre and the British Museum. It’s located on an oxbow of the Isar River that divides Munich in half. They had mechanical Industrial Revolution experiments (just press a button), a walk-in coal mine underneath, rock quarry, the ME 262 jet plane, a V-2 rocket placed upright in a staircase, the WWII tri-motor troop transport JU 52, the U-1 & U-2 submarines, coaches, missiles, and a huge naval room with water tanks in which miniature ships plowed the water.
Munich also had its seedier side of town. I noticed Marxist shops here and there. Perhaps the proximity to the university students made them viable, but I doubt it. Marxism is pretty dry stuff, but who can resist that picture of burly Karl Marx in the display window? A more popular destination for Germans, and one I’d never heard of, was The Sex Shop that had its mysterious wares prominently displayed. It had more latex than Bass Pro.
