The Call of the East

Oh, Munich. How you surprised me tonight.

Monday evening. Cosily installed in front of my laptop. Good music playing in the background. I could easily have just drank another beer by myself and happily have gone to sleep. But I really wanted to witness Franz Dobler’s speech live at the Willie Nelson Tribute. So I headed out to Unter Deck again, for the third time in 6 days, through that concrete, modern alley that is so unlike the rest of the streets of the city. I don’t need Google Maps anymore to get to Unter Deck. I’m not sure if this is good news or not.

I spent the first half of the show seated in one of the big leather couches of the bar, still blanketed in my coat, a cold beer in my hand. At this exact moment, all very cozily installed, I tried to remember when was the last time I felt this comfortable, and I couldn’t. There was something about how all my energy was focussed on catching up the meaning of Mister Dobler’s words that was deeply meditating. A peace-inducing listening session of German words about music, told in the transcending melody of story-telling. The musical intermèdes from Philip Bradatsch served as dialogue points more than cuts in the speech, and were perfectly, sensibly executed.

Intermission. As I headed out for some fresh air, I saw familiar faces. And other ones. And new faces. I actually didn’t get to catch anything of the second half of the show, as way too interesting conversations became the strongest pull of the Munich Flow at that exact moment.

Jumping up from conversation to conversation (the title of this chronicle is actually a wink to one of them), we actually ended up closing the bar, and even on the way back home, learnt some incredible stories. Maybe I’ll tell one of them one day.

Monday night, right?

Anytime.


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