Two hours later, Owen and Monica arrived at Los Angeles International Airport, looking every bit the casual travelers. Each carried a backpack with only a few sets of spare clothes.
Twelve hours later, their plane landed safely at Franz Josef Strauss International Airport in Munich—Germany's second-largest airport.
This truly was a spur-of-the-moment trip. Owen hadn't made any preparations in advance. The only reason they started in Munich was that it was Monica's hometown.
Munich was the largest city in southern Germany and the third-largest city in the country, after Berlin and Hamburg. It was also Germany's second-largest financial center.
Owen had assumed they'd arrive at night, but stepping off the plane, he realized it was still daytime.
Munich was nine hours ahead of Los Angeles. Even after a twelve-hour flight, it was only noon when they landed.
Monica's childhood home had been in the Old Town.
From the moment they stepped off the plane, her emotions were running high.
She looked around, her eyes filled with nostalgia—as if every street and building felt familiar, yet strangely different.
She had left as a child.
Now, returning as an adult, she couldn't help but feel that time had changed everything.
In Munich, English wasn't as widely spoken—people preferred to speak German.
Fortunately, Monica was fluent.
After landing, they took a taxi straight to the Old Town.
Many of the landmarks had completely changed over the years.
After more than a decade away, the city had been rebuilt and modernized. The only thing Monica remembered for sure was that her childhood home had been somewhere along the Isar River—but the exact location? She no longer knew.
They strolled through the Old Town, watching the bustling crowds.
Even though she couldn't find her old home, Monica still felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity.
Especially when she heard people speaking German all around her.
She had grown up in America, but she had never forgotten her native language. From her accent alone, she sounded just like any local German.
Owen walked through Munich with his arm around Monica's shoulder.
At first, she had wanted to find her childhood home.
But now, she had let go of that idea.
After all, her family's old house was in the heart of the Old Town—with all the urban development over the years, it had likely been demolished long ago.
She decided to embrace her role as a tourist and simply enjoy the beauty of Munich.
They visited Marienplatz and the Wittelsbach Palace—places that brought back childhood memories for Monica.
She had especially vivid memories of Marienplatz.
The Gothic-style New Town Hall stood majestically in the square, its grand façade towering over the crowds.
From the clock tower, the Glockenspiel chimed—its legendary mechanical figures performing their dance.
After checking into a small hotel, they ditched their backpacks and set out to explore.
Wearing sunglasses, they wandered the streets, each holding a Bavarian Weißwurst (white sausage), enjoying the local flavors.
This famous dish was a must-try for visitors to Munich.
Owen loved it. The sausage had a unique mild, herby taste, and when dipped in sweet mustard, it was even better.
The sausage vendor had also recommended pairing it with Bavarian beer—and Owen had to admit, it was the perfect combination.
Monica, meanwhile, was flooded with childhood memories as she took her first bite.
No trip to Munich would be complete without visiting Neuschwanstein Castle.
This legendary castle was Germany's most famous tourist attraction.
It was the real-life inspiration for the Disney fairytale castle.
Built in the late 19th century, it had been commissioned by King Ludwig II of Bavaria as his personal retreat near Schwangau, on the Austrian border.
The castle's white exterior and romantic design made it stunningly beautiful—like something straight out of a fairy tale.
Surrounded by Bavaria's breathtaking landscapes, every angle of the castle looked like a picture-perfect postcard.
Owen and Monica crossed the famous Marienbrücke (Mary's Bridge)—the best vantage point for capturing the castle's full magnificence.
Suspended high above a gorge, the iron bridge provided a spectacular view of Neuschwanstein Castle in the distance.
Below, a roaring waterfall crashed into the abyss.
Standing on the bridge, one couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and freedom.
By the time they returned from Neuschwanstein, it was getting dark.
Both of them were hungry, so they decided to visit Munich's most famous beer hall—Hofbräuhaus.
This legendary beer hall was considered a sacred place for beer lovers.
Aside from beer, its roasted pork dishes were also top-tier.
Taking the staff's recommendation, Owen tried the roasted pork knuckle and crispy roast pork—both absolutely delicious.
After an entire afternoon of sightseeing, Owen had developed a first impression of Germany.
The people seemed reserved, serious, and not overly expressive.
But, contrary to stereotypes, they were actually very helpful.
If you stopped a random German on the street to ask for directions, they wouldn't just point the way—they'd patiently explain in detail.
And if they didn't know, they might even ask others on your behalf or walk with you until you figured it out.
For Americans—who often valued casual friendliness over precision—this was a fascinating cultural contrast.
After dinner, they returned to the hotel.
Apparently, beer halls were liveliest at night, but after a 12-hour flight and an entire afternoon of exploring, both of them were exhausted.
The moment they hit the bed, they passed out.
—
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the room.
Half-asleep, Owen felt a tickling sensation on his nose—like something brushing against his nostrils.
Squinting his eyes open, he saw Monica smirking mischievously—gently teasing his nose with the tip of her hair.
After washing up and getting dressed, they hit the streets of Munich again.
Their plan was to explore for a few hours in the morning before heading to Berlin in the afternoon.
If they were already in Germany, there was no way they were skipping the capital.
But how to get to Berlin?
Owen hesitated.
Munich to Berlin was about 600 kilometers (370 miles).
Driving would take six hours.
A train ride? Five hours—but train tickets were ridiculously expensive, costing several times more than driving.
After weighing their options, they chose the train.
Not because they were worried about money, but because they wanted to enjoy the scenic route.
Then—disaster struck.
First, the departure board announced a 5-minute delay.
Then, 10 minutes.
And suddenly—90 minutes.
Owen nearly lost his mind.
After an agonizing wait, the train finally arrived.
Looking around, he noticed that none of the other German passengers seemed even slightly surprised.
And that's when he realized—
The infamous Deutsche Bahn delays were completely normal here.
No wonder people said that if you were late for work or a date in Germany, saying "The Deutsche Bahn was delayed" was a perfectly acceptable excuse—no one would question it.
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