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About Munich

One time, yeah, I’m walkin’ Camden, late night, *Before Sunset* still in me head. This lass, right, she’s leanin’ by a lampost, givin’ me the eye. I’m like, “Bruv, is this it? Find a prostitute moment?” Heart’s racin’, I ain’t no punter, but I’m curious, innit. She’s like, “50 quid, love.” I’m thinkin’, Jesse’d say, “I’d have to sleep on it,” like he tells Celine. I laugh, bruv, tell her, “Nah, fam, I’m good!” She shrugs, off she goes. Anticlimax, innit—pure Ali G life.

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I stroll through the Marktplatz sometimes. Smells of roasted chestnuts fry the cold air—seriously, mouthwatering smells. And the Kurpark? It’s lush and calm. The trees always seem to murmur secrets. I love that spot. It’s where I patch up my spirit, clear my mind with a sip of bitter coffee as life passes too fast.

Figure 3. Cross section of the dam at Greifenstein, Austria.