So to catch back up on the last day in Munich, my friends Kai and Heinrich had me over to their home for dinner along with my friends Richard and Markus. Heinrich made what was probably the best meal I've ever had in Germany, all Bavarian specialties: roast goose breast, potato pancakes, and - well - petersilienwurzelpürree, which I haven't been able to translate. (update: Kai tells me that is parsley root puree.) It really was amazing. The whole evening was nice and low key, which was perfect since everyone was still in a bit of recovery from Sunday's Starkbierfest festivities. They, of course, all had to work that day. As we were walking to the S-Bahn afterward, I mentioned to Richard how surreal this trip had been and we ended up only talking about how the airfares were so strangely cheap. I was thinking how I was walking down a street in Germany at that moment but knew that in hours I would be back in California. But in addition to that, the feeling came from how spur of the moment the trip had been, how much I've gotten to be familiar with getting around Munich, now even starting to understand some language (very little!), and of course how I've come to know my friends there even better with each visit as well as make new ones each time. Yet at the same time, its half a world away. I have this bad habit every time I'm in Munich - usually in the middle of festivities at Oktoberfest or Starkbierfest - of tearing up at some completely random and inappropriate time (like during a cheesy Schlager song I like called 'Einen Stern'). If a friend is near I'll always have to explain that they're happy tears - and they truly are and thankfully they usually subside pretty quickly. That's not something I really have had happen other times or places, so I have no idea where it comes from, other than somewhere inside. I've been back in my house for a day now, but I've also felt homesick all day.