Munich Airport Arrival

Spring sunlight streamed through the cabin windows as the plane touched down. Morgen in Bayern. Morning in Bavaria. I'd finally made it to Germany, and even though I hadn't slept much on the flight, I wasn't müde at all. I was brimming with excitement to start my Urlaub.

The first thing I noticed as the plane came to a gentle stop was how no one reacted. No clapping, no rush. Just a calm, orderly shuffle of people waiting. Even when the seatbelt signs pinged off, most passengers stayed seated for a moment longer, composed and unhurried. Alles war in Ordnung (Everything was in order). My guidebook had mentioned German Ordnung, orderliness, and here it was in action. The stillness was almost disconcerting.

When it was finally time, I eased into the aisle, my Bordkarte tucked away, no longer useful. The new word ahead was die Gepäckausgabe. Baggage claim. Where, with luck, nothing would be verloren. Lost.

The terminal was quieter than any airport I'd ever experienced. Just footsteps, rolling wheels, and the occasional announcement. I guess the plane wasn't just a fluke, suspiciously alles ruhig. German calmness. I could get used to this!

Overhead, die Schilder pointed in every direction. Signs for baggage, exits, trains, customs. Each one a small reading comprehension test. I tried to folgen the arrows on the floor, keeping close behind the others. Curiosity, though, lured me toward the Aufzug. "Zug?" I thought. Like a train? Do they have a monorail? No, unfortunately nothing quite that exciting greeted me at the end of the hallway, instead there was just a boring old elevator. German loves its compound words: turns out an Aufzug (up train) is just an elevator. I chuckled to myself as I ascended to the next floor, reemerging into the main hall, a little wiser and still grinning. I suppose only knowing half a word can lead you half astray.

A loudspeaker blared, bringing me back to the present:

"Bitte folgen Sie den Schildern zur Passkontrolle und Gepäckausgabe."

"Please follow the signs to passport control and baggage claim."

I turned one labyrinthine corner after another until finally there it was: die Passkontrolle. Passport Control. I queued up, my Reisepass ready in my palm. The officer spoke to me in German, curt and professional: "Guten Tag. Ihr Ausweis, bitte." I blinked, momentarily unresponsive. I knew I had just been practicing this very word moments ago, but to hear it out loud was a completely different experience. A beat later, he switched to perfect English: "Your passport, please." I handed it over. A Stamp. A Nod. And Through. I'll not be forgetting those words again.

Down the stairs, a carousel whirred: das Gepäckband. I watched each suitcase with detective like focus until mine swung into view; I stepped forward and managed to abholen my luggage without any undue awkwardness, side stepping a family with more suitcases than hands to pull them.

Next came der Zoll customs. Two hallways, one red, one grün. I hesitated as I always do, and chose grün: An officer glanced over and asked, "Etwas zu verzollen?" - Anything to declare. "Nein," I managed, and he waved me through.

Die Schilder at long last pointed not to another bureaucratic step, but towards der Ausgang. Past those glass doors officially lay Deutschland. But first: cash and transit.

I stopped at der Geldautomat and withdrew my first euros. The machine asked if I wanted to pay in my home currency or euros. I tapped euros. Better exchange rate, according to my notes. The bills slid out, colourful and foreign.

Ahead, an intimidating array of choices stacked up: der Taxistand, der Bus, der Regionalzug, die U-Bahn, die S‑Bahn. Half cognates, half enigmatic codes. I recognized Bahn (train) in several of the options, but which one was right? Where exactly am I supposed to go? I looked up the transit options I'd scribbled down in my notebook. What would a local do?

In München fährt man vom Flughafen am besten mit der S‑Bahn, der S8 oder S1.

In Munich, the best way from the airport is the S‑Bahn, the S8 or S1.

I headed for der Schalter, the counter, instead of the machines. I was far too jet lagged to try my luck with those intimidating beasts. I'd barely gotten through the ATM.

The agent greeted me in German: "Servus! Welche Fahrkarte möchten Sie?"

I took a breath and tried: "Eine... Fahrkarte... nach München Zentrum?"

"Ja, natürlich." She tapped her screen. "Einzelfahrt oder Tageskarte?"

My brain scrambled. Einzel... single? Tages... day? "Uh... was ist... better?"

She smiled and switched to English. "Single journey or day ticket?"

"Single, please." Relief.

She printed the Fahrkarte and slid it across. "Vierzehn Euro. Viel Spaß!"

I handed her a twenty. "Danke für Ihre Hilfe."

She nodded, switching back to German. "Bitte schön. Schöne Reise!"

A few words in German, a few in English. It was messy, but it was real. I'd actually done it.

Descending down to the train platform I was greeted with a blast of cool tunnel air. The S‑Bahn was already there, waiting for me, ready to depart. I paused to read die Schilder again. S8 Herrsching (Richtung Innenstadt / City Centre). This was my line. I boarded quickly, finding a window seat, Fahrkarte in hand.

The doors closed with a soft hiss, and the train glided into motion. At first we were underground. Just darkness and the occasional flash of platform lights. Then we burst into daylight and the wide open meadows of Bavaria surrounded me. It was beautiful! Eventually, fields gave way to suburban streets, then clusters of apartment buildings growing ever taller, we were getting close to the city centre. Bavaria wasn't just a word on a map anymore. It was real, rushing past my window at sixty kilometers an hour.

A conductor moved down the aisle checking tickets. When she reached me, I offered my Fahrkarte with a hopeful smile. Surely, I had bought the right thing from the counter? She scanned it, handed it back, and said with a freundlich nod:

"Servus. Willkommen in München."

Willkommen. Welcome. I understood that perfectly. I settled back into my seat, grinning stupidly at the window, as Bavaria rolled by. I had finally arrived.