The first day

By Mary Pinckney Waters

The Condor Hotel is gloriously gaudy, with flowered carpets, thick gold-rimmed mirrors and elaborate wall murals. Everything has ornate touches that seem elegantly intended but poorly executed. I feel like I'm parodying a ridiculously rich person's life, and I'm having fun pretending in a shoe-box-sized room full of faux aristocratic trims.

My first night in Munich I stayed in an eight-bed dorm room in Wombats Hostel, kept awake hours into the morning by a snoring roommate. (Travel advice: Don't underestimate the suckiness of this oh-so-real possibility.)

Earlier that day I had walked around the downtown Hauptbahnhof area some, reuniting with Germany's famous white Spargel (asparagus) for supper, finding a great bargain on outlet adapters at a Middle Eastern discount shop, and catching up on the latest issue of Neon magazine on a busy sidewalk in my second homeland.