Taking the long way to Munich. Such are the vagaries of modern post pandemic travel. An improvement? I think not. Transfer to Geneva, then London, Munich. European summer time was the saviour. And my luggage arrived with me, always a bonus.
This was followed by a succession of lunches and dinners with long not seen relatives. I was not able to fit in a credit card sideways without the risk of causing a major international incident.
I did manage to walk some of this off by a stroll through the Emmeringer Hölzl, a patch of Forest alongside the Amper river near Fürstenfeldbruck. A green, luscious place full of birdsong. a vivid contrast to the starkness of the mountains I’ve just come from.
But change was evident here also. The river was low and the unrelenting tendrils of English ivy were endeavouring to smother everything. To the distant, less caring, observer normality carried on.
