It's not even ten o' clock but I'm knackered. The excitement of imminent travel and deeply rooted fears of missing planes means I got little sleep last night before setting off at five this morning for Heathrow.Munich is lovely. The skyscraper to cow ratio leans heavily in the bovine direction and I get the feeling that people like it that way. The staff at the Munich office are, much like London's staff, friendly, warm, good-humoured and enthusiastic.
We had a buffet lunch at the local Italian (where Holger was at pains to find something even a little bit vegetarian for me) and the bill came to a shocking six euros each. It's easy to forget how expensive London is if you live there.
After a vigorous discussion about work and the training ahead, Jose and I headed for the All You Can Eat 'Running Sushi' (because 'Conveyer Belt' is such an unappetising phrase) from whence the photo comes. Just when I thought I could well and truly dispose of my stereotypes about Germans, a lovely leather-clad couple with the better part of a slinky stitched into their faces sat down across the way.
Between our collective Portuguese, French, English and Afrikaans, we eventually muddled our way through the ordering and paying with touristy giggles. It still tickles me to see a Japanese woman rattling off in German or French. Our bill once again came to a total that would buy you a breadstick and bowl of olives in Soho.
The cigarette vending machines hang outside buildings where you would expect telephones to be and the houses and apartment blocks look like giant pastel-coloured lego blocks. Everyone looks German in a way that seems oddly familiar - probably because Cape Town, where I lived for eight years, is something of a Berlin-by-the-sea.
