🇬🇧

Pretzels on the horizon

Lufthansa, Toulouse to Munich

Ah, Lufthansa. The very name conjures images of efficiency, precision… and mildly stern smiles. Today’s airborne escapade took me from the sleepy southern charm of Toulouse to the polished punctuality of Munich on a short hop aboard an Airbus A320 — aka The Sky Bus of Europe.

Now, let’s talk service. Minimal? Yes. Fine? Also yes. Think: a polite nod, a beverage, and a snack that may or may not have existed (did I dream that dry biscuit?). It’s exactly what Air France would offer—if Air France wore darker suits and had a cabin color scheme that says, “We mean business, but in a friendly Teutonic way.” There’s something about Lufthansa that feels subtly different. Not better, not worse—just… differently organized. Like the seats themselves whisper Ordnung muss sein.

As I type this, there’s a gentle easing of the engines. A whisper that says, “Ladies and gentlemen, prepare to stop pretending to sleep—we’re descending into MUC.” Yes, Munich Airport, land of efficient baggage carousels and an alarmingly clean arrivals hall.

Our next mission: acquire the rental car (please let it be a Volkswagen and not a suspiciously banged-up Fiat), and drive to Kempten. It’s about two hours away, or three if we follow GPS instructions voiced by someone who clearly dislikes us.

The reward? Bavarian beer. Glorious, malty, sunshine-in-a-glass beer. I plan to toast with something I can’t pronounce and probably shouldn’t try to. Lunch will be hearty, the beer will be cold, and my arteries will be immediately alerted.

This afternoon’s agenda is delightfully light: we’re convening with the in-laws. Most have arrived from the UK, probably blinking in confusion at the efficient public transport and unusually well-behaved dogs.

In short, it’s shaping up to be a perfectly Bavarian day. Auf geht’s!