Do Pigs Have Knuckles.

A pork knuckle is the joint between the tibia/fibula and the metatarsals of the foot of a pig, where the foot was attached to the hog's leg. It is the portion of the leg that is neither part of the ham proper nor the ankle or foot, but rather the extreme shank end of the leg bone. (Wikipedia)

Although we were a few months too early for Oktoberfest, I was not leaving Munich with out spending a few hours in a beer hall, quaffing giant beers, with an oompah band playing in the background and using my fingers to tear into a succulent, perfectly cooked pigs knuckle (ham hock for you Americans).

Arriving in Munich, the day before, I spent the evening in our hotel mapping a route that would take us on a tour of some of Munich’s sights while timing our arrival at the Hofbrauhaus around lunch time. The Hofbrauhaus is a world famous 400 year old beer hall that is still pumping out oompah music, 400 year old beer and world famous pigs knuckles.

It was if they knew I was coming. As we walked in the door, the house band was just starting to play Ein Prosit, the national anthem of Oktoberfest. A parade of waiters marched by us with fistfuls of giant beers and plates of knuckles being delivered to giant tables full of tourists. The place was hopping and it was another tick on the Bucket List. I will never need to eat another pigs knuckle again. 

We were catching an early evening train to Passau so with only the day in Munich; we had to make every minute count. Up early, we headed to the cathedral Frauenkirche and the famous/infamous Devils Footprint. Legends claim that the 20-year construction of the cathedral in the 15th century would have been impossible without some kind of divine intervention or perhaps not so divine. Seeing his project timelines slipping away, the builder enlisted the help of Satan himself to finish erecting the cathedral on time. In exchange, he promised to keep the interior windowless to bathe the church in darkness.

The builder fulfilled his end. Or so the devil thought. As Satan stood in the entrance, the church, with its massive pillars blocking the light, appeared to be covered in blackness. Something didn’t feel right. He stepped further in, passing the pillars, and was knocked aback as light poured in from the windows. Displeased with the deception, the devil slammed his foot into the floor of the entrance, forever indenting the concrete with his footprint. As he stormed out of the church one last time, he left behind a perpetual torrent of wind that still swirls around Frauenkirche to this day. I would have thought the footprint would have looked more hoof like.





Marienplatz was next for the 11:00 am Rathaus-Glockenspiel show. The platz was chock full of like minded tourists awaiting the chimes and life sized marionettes re-enacting two stories from the 16^th century.

The top half of the glockenspiel tells the story of the marriage of Duke Wilhelm. The bottom half tells the story  of Schäfflertanz ( Coopers Dance). According to myth, 1517 was a year of plague in Munich. The coopers are said to have danced through the streets to "bring fresh vitality to fearful dispositions." The coopers remained loyal to the duke, and their dance came to symbolize perseverance and loyalty to authority through difficult times. By tradition, the dance is performed in Munich every seven years. It was underwhelming to say the least.  (Wikipedia)

We had a similar under whelming experience at the Prague old town glockenspiel so should have known better.

After lunch we were off visit the Englischer Garten. (English Park) Deep into spring and the place was in full bloom. But we weren’t there for flowers, surfing was on our mind. The surfing site is called the Eisback Wave and is found on a man made river located in the park. The huge wave is created by the water resistance of a huge stone step located under the water. The wave creates an intense ride that depending on the skill of the rider can be short or incredibly long. Go too long and the other surfers lined up along the river bank start to grouse.

Feeling peckish, we headed over to the famous 200 year old Ratskeller Restaurant for some real Bavarian food. One look at the menus price list dampened our appetite so we headed to the train station to see if we could find some Bavarian cuisine that was a little more affordable. 

So, with our breath reeking of bratwurst and sauerkraut, we boarded the train for Passau.