Walking into Munich I expected skyscrapers, but I found none. Munich is the third largest city in Germany, and nothing about the energy on the street lets you forget that. It was crowded, fast, and full in a way that reminded me of New York. But the skyline wasn’t there. What I learned is that Munich enforces strict height limits, keeping buildings below the towers of the Frauenkirche. I really enjoyed this architectural aspect of the city.  

We were warned that Munich is a very touristy city, so the question of what is authentic and what is not followed me throughout the whole day. The Hofbräuhaus is largely a tourist experience at this point, and our professor told us as much going in. But it was an FC Bayern game day, and the moment the match had people’s attention. German came flooding back into the room with fans having a gathering before going to the game.  

One of the highlights of the day was seeing the surfers in the middle of the city. The Eisbach wave in the English Garden has a permanent river wave where surfers ride year-round, and I could not believe what I was seeing. Nearby, the Hofgarten was beautiful, a formal garden with a quiet, unhurried energy that felt like a world away from the bustle of the streets just outside it. Lunch was a bratwurst, simple and delicious, exactly what the day called for. 

That authenticity of the city showed up even more clearly during our walking tour. The blue and white Bavarian flag flying on the Rathaus with no German flag anywhere. Our tour guide explained it plainly. The natives of the state are Bavarians first and Germans second. In addition to this, the Ash Wednesday fountain ritual outside town hall, where citizens gather to wash their wallets so they will never run dry for the year, is not something designed for visitors. Neither is the Roman Catholic identity woven into nearly every corner of the city, such as the handful of ministries in the heart of the city.  

What made today more than a sightseeing day was how close history sat to everything modern. We stood near the biergarten where Hitler joined the Nazi party. We were inside the Hofbräuhaus where the swastika was made into a symbol of the movement. We walked past the starting point of Kristallnacht. The modern city and its darkest chapter occupy the same physical space. There were gold bricks embedded in the pavement on Viscardigasse. They are called Stolpersteine, and they are one of the most quietly powerful memorials I have ever encountered. The ones we saw marked the spot where people found ways to move through the city without stopping to salute at the Nazi checkpoint at the Feldherrnhalle monument. It was so powerful to see such small acts of resistance made permanent. 

The churches spoke to me too, and so did the Rathaus and the other buildings that survived the bombing. 50% of Munich was bombed in the war, and what still stands carries the weight of that. Standing inside those spaces, I kept thinking about everything they had witnessed. 

The nervousness I am feeling going into Dachau is the right kind of nervousness. Dachau was the first concentration camp which opened in 1933. I am going in more curious than anything else, intrigued for the information and the full picture. But I also know it will be an emotional visit. I plan to carry my thoughts and new knowledge into tomorrow.