Tag 5 (Munchen; time = 6:19; distance = 102.8 km; odometer = 775.1) -- I
slept OK and was awoken at about 6:15 by a barking dog. This is why I pay
for campsites! This wasn't just the random barking dog. This one was
barking at me. Merckx proved to me that dogs can't mentally handle the
bivy. This dog was even wearing a muzzle -- great. So I got up and had a
slow take down, hoping the sun would make it to me. I was just packed when
it did. As I rolled away, however, it got very grey and cloudy. That's how
it was all day. It is also bitter cold today. I wore the
jacket/pants/gaiters/gloves and hand baggies all day! It even snowed a tiny
bit for fun. Although it didn't really rain on me, it was windy and they
weren't good winds. My plan was to go back to Bad Tolz and eat at a cafe or
restaurant -- all closed. Incredible. OK. Maybe there's something down the
road -- nope. Just forest, forest and more forest. I felt stupid for not
camping there. Oh well. After some confusing, wasted trips side-to-side, I
finally was on the right path to Munchen. I couldn't believe that the towns
had no grocery or bakery -- only a butcher. No! I don't want sausage for
all my eating needs! Finally, I got to a tiny town with a grocery store. I
bought some good food and decided to try my luck at the bank -- bye
Austrian money. And I learned that the Mark was worth about « of what I
thought it was (« of Swiss prices almost!). Wow! I'd like a hotel room with
a Jacuzzi! Oh, this town also had a Ferrari dealer. Other towns without
grocery stores had BMW dealers and Porsche dealers. This country has NO
normal pick-up trucks, but 20% of the cars are 2-seater Porschen or BMWs.
They drive like Americans on the country roads -- in the city, bikes are
about 95% segregated by bike lanes/paths. Often, this is a portion of the
sidewalk, which is about as fun as it sounds. So I finally got to the big
city, and it's pretty big. I was determined to find A hostel, ANY hostel.
After much riding around and asking, I finally found it. That was a
30-second experience; "How old are you?" "30." "Too old." Well, that's
brilliant -- YOUTH hostel! OK. So I rode to a nearby campsite. It was nice.
Almost industrial. I was not yet thru town and I figured I could make a
site on the other side of town. So, off I went through the city -- past the
swanky palace nympho (or something like that). I did see a bunch of guys
wearing the caricature hat with the little brush sticking out of it.
Overall, though, people are nowhere near as nice as the Swiss, or even
Austrians. I guess "Gruss Gott" is too hard to say to everyone -- and it's
not just the city, everywhere's been this way. Usually, once I'm talking to
someone, they get friendlier. Maybe this region is too touristy -- and my
new slogan: "I don't just look like a tourist; I smell like one!" So I
finally made it to the site. I was going to have to wait « hour for the
woman who had a key to the office (17:00 is normal check-in time at these
places). He wanted my passport, which he shoved under the window to the
locked office -- that makes me a bit uneasy. When the woman came (early), I
got my passport and headed for another camp I just noticed on my map. It
was about 8 km. It was nothing! Nothing there at all like a campsite. Hmm.
That makes me nervous! OK, back to the other place. On the way back, I saw
a street sign directing toward camping -- I followed that a couple of kms
before giving up and returning. I set up and ate some good sandwiches I
made with this morning's shopping. Now I'm going to go wash my face -- no
coin shower for me tonight -- it was too cold to sweat today! Then I'll
roll out the green bag and try to get a bit warmer.
![[Bike]](./only2500b.gif)
