You might ask why I developed such passion for Munich, why I talk about it more than any other city I visited, why I keep praising it. There are two reasons: first of all, Munich, located off the main road on which our fellow countrymen travel to France and Italy—the main destinations of Russian travelers—is not so well known among Russians as Berlin, Dresden, Frankfurt, and yet it is worthy of attention for many reasons. Secondly, in the new novel by Ludwig Tieck, Young Carpenter, the protagonist describes the city of Bamberg to his friend with great admiration, and the friend remarks that it is not so much Bamberg itself that impressed the protagonist, but what the city has to offer. Indeed, the young man experienced soulful pleasures in this city, and they illuminated this place with the most beautiful rays in his imagination and in his memory. The same happened to me in Munich: I was traveling there without great expectations or hopes but was met with the invaluable welcome of kind and venerable countrymen, spent most of my time in their pleasant company, and their conversations, tenderness, and friendship delighted my heart.

To start, I will say a few words about Bavarians. The local people are distinguished by frankness, honesty, coarseness, gaiety, and love for earthly blessings of all kinds. After a hard day's labor, they amuse themselves in country taverns with music, dances, and—beer. Beer is the essential element of a true Bavarian. The local beer, of a beautiful, amber color, does not foam much and is light and pleasant to the taste. What lard is for a Malorussian, cod for a Dutchman, roast beef for an Englishman, panade for a Frenchman—for a Bavarian, it's beer. They say that in the old days, the monks reigning in Bavaria systematically saturated the common folks with strong, thick beer that kept them in a perpetual hangover.