"There's just no accounting for happiness, or the way it turns up like a prodigal who comes back to the dust at your feet having squandered a fortune far away." (Jane Kenyon)
Munich, Germany
Marienplatz in the heart of Old Town



Hofbrauhaus, where Mark dined on bratwurst over hot sauerkraut, spicy mustard, freshly baked pretzels, crispy pork knuckle, Bavarian duck. Badenweiler, Germany
A five hour train ride from Munich, a quaint resort town in the Black Forest, the site of Anton Chekhov's final days

Maybe one of the last things Chekhov saw before his premature death at the age of 44 from tuberculosis. The same thing Keats died of.
Mark's hotel, built in 1825; Chekhov stayed here two weeks before he died.
A view of the room where Chekhov died. In his final words, he expressed his love of champagne.
A memorial to Anton Chekhov.
Why didn't I go?!
2 comments:
Seriously. WHY didn't you go?
what a trip! lucky mark! lovely photos.
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