Biking Around Munich & a Beer Garden at Chinese Tower

Hello -- Stewart and I have been using the bikes Erin found for us. She went to a great deal of trouble finding these bikes and for this, we are greatly appreciative. Mine is hot pink, and it has a little bell I like to ding all the time to irritate the Germans. Most of them don't care about the annoying foreigner, but you get your odd one that is rather uptight (Munich has a reputation for people being rather strict with the rules, formal and slightly snobby at times, or so I'm told by other Germans who DON'T live in Munich). There is apparently a BikeMeister (bike master) in the building, and he likes to reorganize the bikes if they are not put back perfectly into the racks. I have delighted in this and have managed to foil the BikeMeister's attempts to move my bike around (I found it tossed to the side two times last week) by locking it up in such a way as he can't move it. Stewart's mike requires a great deal of effort to turn those wheels, and he works hard to get from A to B. But not a complaint out of my Stewart. He's as brave as they get and he has ridden that bike like it has 18 gears, even though in reality he's working off of one.

We rode our bikes in the evening to the Chinese Tower Beer Hall. It's actually outside, and it holds approximately 5000 people. Once again, remarkable Eruope! The concept of that many people having beer(s) in Vancouver would mean the riot police would be standing by. Here in Germany, it's just a good night out. Some people bring their own blue checkered table cloths and a picnic, and then purchase abnormally large beers and drink them in quick succession. For 8 Euros, you can buy about 2 litres of beer in one giant mug. The mug alone weighs more than my arm weights at home and I enjoyed having one of these. The food is also nothing to put your nose up at -- here you can have all the fried potatoes, sausages, ribs, salads, fish, and beer you want without being asked any questions. Oh, and the chicken! This was my fave -- when you order a roast chicken, you don't just get a slice. You get half a chicken on your plate along with a whack of potatoes. Now that definitely beats out my Sunday dinner. We rode our bikes home through a pitch black park (our bikes have lights) and laughed hysterically all the way because... well I guess we all were having WAYYYY TO MUCH FUN! Well, love to you all, and thanks for all the responses on the blog -- we'll keep the information coming and the humour along with it!!! Love Amanda, Erin and Stewart :)