After sleeping through the land of Mozart, I arrived in München, or Munich as we incorrectly pronounce it, originally, back in 1158, a settlement of monks and munchkins, where prominent intellects once gathered in beer halls to discuss the future of the world. Achtung! — Richard Wagner, Richard Strauss, Thomas Mann, Vladimir Lenin, Adolf Hitler, Wassily Kandinsky, Franz Marc, Max Planck, Werner Heisenberg, Albert Einstein, Arnold Schwarzenegger, the list goes on... I had read in my 5"x7" Alice Strobl Verlag Galerie edition of 1968 that Munich contained paintings by Klimt, and so I came hoping to find what I had found in Vienna. According to the New Pinakothek Museum that opened in 1981, I most likely found at least two — a portrait of Margaret Stonborough-Wittgenstein, sister of Ludwig, and The Music, an allegory of some sort in the Symbolist style contemporary with Mahler's music, before the days of metal music. This soon led to the outlandish designs of Art Noveau that everyone hated at first and now loves to pay dearly for. Ain't it the way, and wasn't it always so? Bones of the Saints!

Swiss slides

Before venturing further north, I wanted to experience the Alps. So I headed south to Helvetia. No passport stamps required among Germans, Austrians, and Swiss. What need for security among friends? Is some army going to invade them and gobble them up, or something? Buchloe ⇒ Lindau ⇒ Sankt Margrethen ⇒ Zurich ⇒ Lucerne ⇒ Bern... The train stopped in Bern at 2 am. All Swiss trains stop at 2 am the conductor said. I crawled into my bag laid out on the sparklingly sanitized tile of the station floor. From wall to wall awaiting the morning train, hundreds of other hippies did likewise.