Chad Smith

MUNICH — Today we visited an old Catholic church, which houses the coffins of several Bavarian royalty, some of which dated back to the 16th century. We peaked inside a McDonald’s to see if they served anything out of the ordinary. Quarter pounders are “cheeseburgers royal,” similar to France, according to “Pulp Fiction.” An English-speaking Buddhist or Hare Krishna approached us about buying the Bhagavad Gita. Even after we told him we don’t speak German, he still continued his sales/donation pitch.

The Notorious B.I.G. is playing in our hotel. These people love years-old American music.

Tomorrow we are taking a train to Nuremberg. But for now, it’s another beer hall. For me, though, it’s just a delicious-German-orange-soda hall.

Veal sausage, a Bavarian specialty called Weißwurst, which is only served until noon.

They call iPhones iPhones. The buttons are in German though.

It’s cold, as the fingers of this statute of a famous Munich comedian suggest.

The town hall, which houses Munich’s glockenspiel.