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Bloody Germans. My jingoism means I really want to dislike them but they're just so damn good you can't help but love the place. The ridiculously good rail system carried me perfectly to Munich and the next hostel, complete with shower. Being back in hostels after so long on trains and coaches was great, the shower I had in Prague was my first since Riga, 5 days before. That shower was nothing short of bacterial genocide, audible screams of agony spiralling down the plughole along with all the accumulated dirt and debris of travel. The weevil was worrying.
The next day the S-Bahn took me to Herrsching, not far from Andechs, but unfortunately, there was no bus that got me to the Kloster in time for the tour so I had to walk. The signs helpfully pointed the way and told me it was 8km away. Uphill. Despite the cold morning, I'd soon worked up a sweat and taking my jacket off I started steaming in the crisp air, looking extremely cool if I do say so myself. I looked for someone to share my moment of glory with, but there wasn't even a passing motorist so I struck an heroic pose for a nearby rabbit, it remained unimpressed.
I made it with time to spare to walk around the Kloster, getting all the way to the top of hill on which it is built. The sweeping view over the Bavarian countryside with a faint mountainous backdrop was wonderfully pretty and unspoilt, with the few centuries old buildings fitting in seamlessly. I paused before the entrance to the kirche, whilst I love the architecture and history of churches, I do so from the outside as I'm entirely convinced I'll be instantly struck down should I try to actually enter one. I looked up, not a cloud in the sky. A nun the size of a fridge with a particularly beak-like nose shuffled past and I ungraciously thought that there was one penguin that was definitely flightless. I looked up again and a small wisp of cloud had begun to form. I decided not to risk it.
The tour was entirely in German and entirely uninformative but at the end we were ushered into the drinking hall. Huge hocks of pork, gigantic pretzels and massive steins awaited us and I selected mine with anticipatory glee. It was beautiful, the meat juicy and tender, the pretzel crisped to perfection and the beer surprisingly tasty. Only problem was, the portions were genuinely immense, and after a couple of weeks on the road, my stomach had shrunk. Halfway through, I was struggling and I got the meat sweats bad, sheets of perspiration flowing down my face far in excess of my earlier effort. I looked around, no-one else seemed to be having any trouble so I stiffened my resolve and ordered another beer to wash it down with, I wasn't about to be beaten by the Germans. A monumental effort of shovelling meat down my throat, forcing it down with swigs from the stein rather than any actual chewing proved to be in vain and eventually I had to concede, I was beaten by the Germans. The octogenarian nearby finished her shank off and washed it down with a quaff. She belched her triumphant victory in true Bavarian fashion and sent me a look of Teutonic contempt. I thought that was entirely unnecessary, so I rooted for a retaliatory booger to flick at the back of her unsuspecting head. Dammit, I was clean.
I opted for a literstein as my souvenir and Challenge 4 was complete. Hurrahs! I hadn't brought Challenge 5 with me, so I had to get back to the hostel in order to open it. For the first time, I'd looked ahead at where I could be going and I knew there was an overnight to Amsterdam that looked damn tempting and would leave me with a clear route home, all without ever having to go to France. This appealed to me. I opened Challenge 5 hopefully, hmm, they wanted me to go to Monaco. I checked the route and my dwindling funds, it wasn't looking good. Monaco was in totally the wrong direction and would add at least 3 days onto the trip, taking me past the weekend. Being as utterly irreplaceable as I am, I knew the OMU couldn't possibly struggle on past two weeks without me, so I did the right thing by them and decided to sack off Challenge 5. I was told to then open Challenge 6, which I was warned was set by Danielle. "Purchase a butt plug. You can decide on the size you are comfortable packing! What you do with it on your return is up to you." Classy girl. Still, at least I was going to Amsterdam!
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