I'm in Munich as I write this, staying with a friend. It's wonderful being back in the city after so long away. It's been twenty years since I left here, and this is only my third visit since then. Oktoberfest is over, and Munich is in the full grip of fall, with bright skies overhead and golden leaves skittering across the streets.
On my first evening here, I took a walk alone in Schwabing, searching for an Indian restaurant. (I ended up eating some delicious Ethiopian!) Memories flooded back with each step. I didn’t live there back then, but I spent a good deal of time in the area. And that night, when I first arrived, the skies lit up with a beautiful sunset.
Since then, I’ve spent my time reuniting with friends, catching up with people I haven't seen in way too long.
Yesterday, I met my son. We took a walk from the Haus der Kunst, through the Englischer Garten, past the Eisbach, the Japanese Teahouse, and the "rapids," (where people go surfing in the middle of the city) to Marienplatz. It was an incredibly beautiful fall day. I felt blessed to be here, able to spend the day with my son.
On my last visit in August, I walked from Haidhausen (where I used to live) to Marienplatz. That little stroll, under the hot summer sun, took much longer than expected. In the distance, the distinct onion domes of the Frauenkirche rose above the trees, stately and unchanging.
I feel now as I did last summer, that so much has changed, yet Munich’s spirit remains the same. It feels vibrant, alive with energy and music. Walking through the Hofgarten, I heard classical violin. Near the Haus der Kunst, a clarinetist was playing nostalgic jazz.
It’s good to be back. Almost like coming home, though with a sense of distance.
Fifteen years.
I was lonely when I lived here. Yet those years also included some of the best I've ever known. My children had a lot to do with that. Germany gave me the chance to be a stay-at-home mom, and to spend cherished time with them.
Still, it was a lonely place for me, which is why I stayed away for so long. It’s been a surprise to feel such a profound sense of homecoming, as if a missing part of my heart has been restored. This city shaped me in profound ways. It’s also home to people I love, friends who stood by me in dark times. Seeing them again is very nourishing.
And speaking German again—oddly relaxing. Not something I ever expected to say. My German was never perfect, but I became so comfortable with it that sometimes it’s the first language my mind reaches for. Even now, after all this time, I sometimes find it easier to use a German word or expression than an English one. Then I have to backtrack and find the English word that eluded me. (Scrambling for words—a good mental workout, I suppose. They say being multilingual helps keep dementia away. I hope so.)
I won’t dwell on what my life would've been like if I’d never left Munich. Would I have been there for my mother during her last years, helping her into care? Would I have met the generous crime writing community in New York? Or joined the Foreign Service, worked in Brazil and Poland, and met the incredible people at the State Department?
In some ways, life might have been easier here. Excellent healthcare, the small but well-cut apartment we had, the wonderful lycée my children were attending, the affordable university system they would’ve attended. Yes, I could’ve stayed.
But I would've missed so much.
I’m grateful to be back. To reconnect with friends, share hugs, exchange memories, and catch up on life. I’ve been fortunate, in some way, to have had my cake and eaten it too.
Now it’s time to get off the couch. I’m meeting an old friend for lunch and another for dinner.
I’ll reconnect with you next week. Until then, I wish you fun-filled days, love with old friends, and exciting adventures with new ones!
Take care!
I enjoyed reading your re-experiencing a place you spent so many years. I could identify with the beauty and opportunities for discovery mixed with loneliness. It was a poignant and smooth feeling that I had in reading your reflections. As an introvert - probably INFP - I tell
myself that I’m liberated from the loneliness one can feel when in an extraordinary place that sometimes feels impersonal, cloudy, cooler than is comfortable, and ready to rain. (But I’m not sure that I am.) Thanks for sharing. I also like your example of using your Substack to reflect. It seems to give me permission or the energy to do the same. Cheers y Bonne Chance (et Bon Courage).
I feel like I am with you having a coffee as I read this piece. So well written and such nice memories and your own look at how the grass isn't always greener. I am so glad you had a wonderful time!