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We veered to the Au-Haidhausen district of Munich in the evening of our relatively short stay as there looked to be some rather more on-trend options in this area, not least some decent beer options. This restaurant, Klinglwirt, is very focused on organic and sustainability, with the online reviews being positive to match that. We walked to the restaurant, but it’s located a short distance away from the Rosenheimer Platz underground station.

There was a friendly welcome, as well as a relaxed and inviting atmosphere in the restaurant. It was relatively busy, but they were able to seat us without a reservation. The prices were a little towards the higher end of the scale, but the standards were evidently high. There was a bustling element to the restaurant, but it was never noisy and the child at the neighbouring table watching his mobile phone helpfully had it on silent.

I went for the sausages and mash, which cost around £16, so slightly pricey but the quality of the meat was high and the mustard wasn’t too harsh in its flavour. The portion size was a little better than the photo suggests, but I could have done with a little more. The sausages actually had a meaty profile rather than spice and bulking agent, with the restaurant being proud to advertise that their pork comes from the organic Herrmannsdorfer Farms. The actual real highlight of this dish was, perhaps not entirely predictably to me, the sauerkraut which was punchy and even slightly decadent.

The beer is the Franziskaner Kellerbier from Spaten-Franziskaner-Löwenbräu-Gruppe which isn’t my usual style of choice, but it had a pleasant depth of taste. It was a clean tasting drink, which was a little sweet with slight tastes of toffee, a generally well rounded beer.

Richard spent more, as one might expect, getting a charcuterie type board which he was pleased with.

He’s abandoned his diet now in the name of research and is ordering desserts all over the place.

I don’t usually do desserts, but the apple strudel option was too tempting to resist. The vanilla custard added positively to the arrangement, with the pastry being light but tasty with not sogginess ruining the dish.

All told, this was a positive visit and the strongest element really was the welcome and comfortable nature of the venue. It’s not always guaranteed, but they accepted cards here, although Richard had taken out cash just in case. The food and drink all met my expectations, with an evident depth of flavour and taste. It might not be the cheapest option in the neighbourhood, but the quality of the food was high and I’d recommend the venue to others.

If I’m being entirely honest, there’s a lot of generic beer served across Munich in the same way as dull lagers are served in many UK pubs. Manacled by the outdated Reinheitsgebot, which is a Bavarian innovation, the boundaries of beer are far more limited than in nearby countries such as Poland and macro breweries pump out endless litres of uninspiring beer.

But there is yet hope, from a growing number of interesting, innovative and excellent craft breweries.

Some of the brewing equipment on-site and thank goodness for ventures such as this, which is listed on Untappd. Table service is offered, which felt a little unusual for a set-up like this with a blackboard behind the bar, but the team members were knowledgeable, helpful and engaging. This felt a place where the staff actually cared about the product and were keen to talk and converse about it.

The interior is functional and clean, but this is all about the beer. Richard couldn’t find anything that tempted him, so he had some wine related thing that I ignored.

I went for a tasting board to try as many of the brewery’s beers as I could.

(i) Bru-Bliss. This is a light, fluffy, hoppy and smooth IPA with a touch of citrus.

(ii) Os’s Hoptimus Prime. This had flavours of mango and orange, being light and nicely rounded.

(iii) Royal Drunkness. Creamy, sweet, taste of coffee and liquorice.

(iv) Quake Crusher. Fluffy, with flavours of grapefruit, stone fruit and perhaps a bit of hedge.

(v) PH-1 and this was my 6,000th Untappd check-in. Nicely sour, lots of orange and just the right amount of tartness.

(vi) Sky Krush. Hoppy, hides its 7.5% ABV and suitably juicy.

And, in my view, these beers completely outclassed the generic offerings at Hofbräuhaus which is an ideal location to see Munich’s past. The focus here is on flavour, quality and depth of taste, not just beer designed to be poured in litre quantities and drunk quickly. The number of these venues is increasing across Germany, but I wish they’d increase in number just a little quicker. I was suitably surprised and delighted, this is definitely a venue that I’d recommend.

I’m not really that engaged with the bierhaus type concept where it’s all about quantity of alcohol rather than a focus on quality beer. The shared tables, music and lack of beer that inspires me doesn’t bode entirely well. However, I was pleased that we did pop into this brewery to see what went on.

On a Thursday afternoon it was busy, very busy. It’s hard to argue with that level of popularity, even if your heart belongs to little taprooms down side streets.

The place can seat over 3,500 people and we struggled to find a table space.

Hofbräu München began in 1589 when Duke Wilhelm V set up a court brewery at the Alter Hof to supply his household with brown beer. The first brewmaster was Heimeran Pongratz, and within a few years the new brewhouse had become a fixed part of Munich’s court economy. Under Wilhelm’s son, Maximilian I, the focus shifted to wheat beer and in 1602 he secured a princely monopoly over Weissbier across Bavaria and expanded production so rapidly that, in 1607, the wheat brewery was moved to a new site at the Platzl while the brown-beer operation continued at the old court. Opening sales to Munich innkeepers in 1610 turned Hofbräu from a court supplier into a business with a city-wide market and they became an important part of the local economy.

The drinks menu with the ‘exciting’ beers that are available, with the prices not being unreasonable.

Back to the history though…. In 1614 the brewmaster Elias Pichler introduced a strong Ainpöckisch-style beer that became Hofbräu Maibock, the city’s archetypal spring bock. During the Thirty Years’ War the beer acquired legend as when the Swedes occupied Munich in 1632 they accepted, alongside a cash tribute, a consignment of Hofbräu beer, much of it Maibock, and left the city largely unscathed. As for the beer, it obviously complies with the Reinheitsgebot, which I consider as something bad, but the brewery inevitably view it as something good. After the Bavarian kingdom was proclaimed in 1806 it was known as the Royal Hofbräuhaus and in 1808 the brown-beer plant also moved to the Platzl complex to gain space. In 1828 King Ludwig I formally allowed hospitality on the premises, creating the beer hall tradition visitors know today and in 1852 ownership passed from the crown to the Bavarian state, where it remains as the State-owned Hofbräuhaus in Munich. Industrial growth in the late nineteenth century pushed brewing out of the cramped city-centre buildings and between 1894 and 1896 Hofbräu built a modern brewery on Innere Wiener Straße in Haidhausen, and in 1896 the architect Max Littmann refitted the Platzl as a purpose-built tavern.

There was a more sinister period for the building in the inter-war period as on 24 February 1920, Hitler unveiled the Nazi Party’s 25-point programme at a meeting attended by around 2,000 people. He returned to the venue on numerous occasions to make speeches and it’s where he made the “Warum sind wir Antisemiten” speech where he started to define who the enemies of the state were (mainly Jews) which was to underpin what came next. This entirely sub-optimal piece of history came to an end of sorts when the beer hall was largely destroyed by bombing in 1944, although it was then reconstructed after the war, with the grand Festival Hall reopening for Munich’s 800th anniversary in 1958. Production stayed in Haidhausen until a major fire in the malthouse and offices on 6 April 1987 forced an accelerated move to a new, purpose-built plant at Munich-Riem. The Riem brewery was inaugurated in November 1988 and remains Hofbräu’s production site today.

The pretzels are sold by people who walk around and these can only be purchased with cash. This tasted of a decent quality, it’s something that works well with beer.

There is lockable storage for 616 steins which are used by locals, some of these are over 100 years old.

The area where customers can wash their stein, all very handy and this was used by some locals when we were there.

I evidently sat at an appropriate location, although this obviously wasn’t me involved with such vandalism. In terms of seating, we walked around a couple of times before finding an empty table. It is appropriate and allowable to ask others to join their table, or at least the other end of it, but I’m too British for that. If we had gone in an evening, I suspect we would have had to be much more sociable if we wanted somewhere to sit. One advantage in sitting at the side was that I couldn’t hear the live music, which isn’t a complaint about the quality as I’m sure it was excellent, but I can’t be doing with all this raucous fun.

The glasses, which unlike the one served to me were generally clean.

Service was routine and equally brusque to everyone, which is almost comforting. Card payments are accepted with a hint of theatrical reluctance, you’re marched to a terminal and treated to a convoluted process that lasts just long enough to question your life choices. But, I can forgive this, they’re serving a large number of people who speak any number of languages and it’s fast-paced, I understand they’re not going to spend time building up a rapport with customers. We didn’t have to wait too long to be served, although it took nearly ten minutes for the beers to actually arrive.

As for the Dunkel, it was sweet and malty, but it was generic, served in a dirty glass with lipstick marks and it was quite a basic beer lacking any depth of flavour or taste. Ultimately, they’re not going to change the taste of this beer as it’s long standing, so this all becomes a matter of mass production whilst the quality of other beers overtakes them. I did try some of the wheat beer that Richard ordered and that was better and tasted refreshing, but it still seemed quite basic and generic.

Overall, this is a tourist attraction and it’s evidently doing very well at that as it’s busy and clearly professionally managed to be able to serve this much food and drink to customers. If coming with a group, I think that works better with the whole theme and I’m sure that a pleasant evening would be had with traditional German beer and drink, but I was underwhelmed by the bland beer to be honest. However, I’m glad to have experienced an authentic Munich bierhaus although there’s part of me just a little sad that the small breweries in the city are producing some amazing beers but they have to compete with this mass production facility.

‘Fisch und Schlüssel’ (Fish and Key) is a punchy public sculpture in Munich’s Maxvorstadt district, standing on Ferdinand-Miller-Platz directly in front of St Benno Church. It was created by the sculptor Iskender Yediler and installed in 2005, with the artwork being an aluminium cast showing a fish carrying a key. In the photo, I think I’ve managed to capture the key element beautifully, although I accept that the fish element isn’t entirely visible.

The motif comes from the legend of St Benno, Munich’s patron saint, who was banished during a conflict over the ex-communication of Henry IV and so Benno told his canons to chuck the cathedral keys into the River Elbe. The key was found inside a freshly caught fish a few years later which surprised and delighted a lot of people…. Angry Protestants desecrated Benno’s tomb in Meissen in 1539, so the Wittelsbach dynasty (perhaps known best in the UK because of Sophia of Hanover, who is an important figure in the family tree of the British monarchy) promptly elevated him to become the patron saint of Munich.

This is the former Führerbau, which is where the Munich Agreement was signed on 30 September 1938. This deal was agreed by Nazi Germany, Britain, France and Italy, handing the Sudetenland, which was Czechoslovakia’s fortified and industrial border region, to Hitler. Czechoslovakia weren’t at the table to discuss the matter and the British Neville Chamberlain and French Édouard Daladier accepted the transfer to avoid immediate conflict. Germany occupied the Sudetenland in October 1938, stripping Czechoslovakia of key defences and heavy industry and leaving it strategically crippled. Chamberlain also signed a brief Anglo-German declaration with Hitler expressing the wish for peaceful relations, hence the famous “peace for our time” line on his return to London.

The peace agreement didn’t hold, but Chamberlain perhaps didn’t really have much choice here. There was a chance in his mind that the peace agreement might work, but with hindsight it was inevitable that it would fail given Hitler’s evil intent. The document was signed in Hitler’s office, which is still there and used by the University of Music and Performing Arts Munich who now occupy the building. The building had been constructed between 1933 and 1937, part of the Königsplatz project that was part of Hitler’s architectural vision for the city.

The city authorities would have ideally liked to have demolished all of the Nazi era buildings, but they already had a shortage of usable structures post-war and there was nothing wrong with this one other than its association with evil. But, for me to see this building was sobering, it’s not that long ago that Chamberlain turned up here in the hope that he could avert a war. There’s no obvious connection with the past other than for this subtle sign which is in German, Czech and Slovak, a gesture towards the attack on their nations that was agreed here.

And the side of the building which was used by the US after the war as the central point to return artwork and cultural items stolen by Nazis back to their owners. It was given to the University of Music to give it a more positive use and to try and free it from its past. The more modern building to the right of the photo is the NS-Dokumentationszentrum, which during Hitler’s time was known as the Brown House.