Saying goodbye to Neuhausen

If you follow the link in the tweet reprinted above, you’ll find a view from the hotel room we’ve been in since the beginning of January, and I can’t stop chuckling at the powdered snow doughnut.

This is my goodbye to the district on the western side of Munich called Neuhausen-Nymphenburg. It’s been my home the entire time I’ve been in Germany, and it’s a bit of a melancholy goodbye.

I’ve waxed lyrical about this particularly beautiful part of a particularly beautiful city. It’s as a good a time as any to move on, but it’s not easy.

Bogenhausen is no slouch when it comes to neighbourhoods in Munich. Many notable Münchner (residents of München) lived in Bogenhausen, and although there’s not quite the selection of restaurants and businesses as I’m accustomed to, I’m sure the ones there are will include a few gems. Can’t wait to talk about some of those here on the old Dachshund Blog.

Don’t change that channel. Stay with us through the next advertisement, because you ain’t seen nuthin’ yet.

And now for a link to the photo of the massive powdered snow doughnut, which incidentally has absolutely no calories, or negligible ones anyway. Not many things you can say that about, are there?

Enjoy.

 

holding off on discouragement

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view from the Friedensengel looking down on Munich from Bogenhausen

My friend Dermot held off on telling me how impossible it is to find a place to live in Munich – especially with dogs. And one more thing against me? Many or most people here have secure employment. I’m a freelancer with work in a variety of fields. It’s never boring, but it’s anything but guaranteed.

I’d heard over the years that finding somewhere to live in Bavaria’s capital was difficult, but had never experienced it firsthand.

Here I was looking for a flat during Advent and the Christmas/New Year’s holidays. It was a bit of drudgery and appeared to be all in vain. I was looking at places as far-flung as Augsburg, Landshut and even Regensburg. All perfectly acceptable places, but definitely a commute.

Then I unexpectedly ran into my dog trainer, who I hadn’t seen in years, and told her my plight. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, she informed me that before she found her present abode, she was couch surfing and some nights even sleeping in a barn. For how long was she virtually homeless?

Seven months.

You heard me right. I thought in that moment that my situation was completely hopeless. Here was a woman very connected in the community with tonnes of clients and very well-behaved dogs. She was essentially a vagabond for what seemed like an unbearable amount of time. Where would that leave me?

She took my contact details, but I had no illusion that she’d provide anything different than the many friends who’d been looking/listening for any rental-related possibilities in my adopted hometown.

Everyone wanted to help, but it’s really a jungle here. And each year there are more and more students and professionals making their way to this beautiful city on the River Isar.

Didn’t want to say anything till I was certain it’d work out, but a flat opened up in her building. My dog trainer, who’s the closest thing I’ve found to a real-life dog whisperer incidentally, sent me a text message on New Year’s Eve, and said that if I wanted to, I could live in her building.

It’s been renovated, and is much better than anything I could’ve hoped for. Although I could’ve done with a bit less Sturm und Drang in the search for a home, I’m glad Dermot waited to tell me how screwed I was.

‘Two dogs? At Christmastime? As a self-employed foreigner? I didn’t have the heart to tell you it was nearly impossible.’

Impossible, my arse. Munich Bogenhausen here we come.