It's no secret that I enjoy the nightlife side of travel. The main reason for this is because this is often the way that I am able to meet people who live there and make new friends, as well as experience a side of their city that is less likely to be experienced by the average tourist. And of course, my natural night-owl tendencies lend to that as well. (and especially in Paris, I love how many bars are literally in cellars, complete with clearly original stone archways and passages that haven't been put there for any theme, but are simply structure). I often beat myself up for enjoying the nights because it does mean sacrificing the mornings and missing more of the usual tourist highlights, sometimes thinking "gosh I didn't see the city at all" or feeling like I've wasted the day. This is compounded at this point in the trip by the fact that I've reached that fatigue stage where I've just been away so long, not to mention decompression after Munich's festivities. But last night during the unusual stillness while walking home (it was Monday morning after all), I felt the opposite. A few people were about, but the streets were unusually still. Cobblestones glowed and the walls soaked in another night of history that probably dated for centuries. Cafes awaited the morning and museums stood guard awaiting their crowds. This was my secret magical side of the city that many others don't get to see. Maybe I'm not the one missing out after all.