Well, I managed to sign my accommodation contract and get my health insurance sorted today. The first one involved a lot of slow and clear German from a very nice lady who was just a tiny bit older than the age where she could be expected to give English a try. Hiding his cigarettes under the desk when I came in, my health insurer spoke first German and then English whenever he warmed up. Then, when he had reached optimum temperature, he started chatting away in English, explaining (amongst other things) when the next holidays will be and laughing cruelly at people in Hamburg and Berlin because they have to work two weeks on Thursday because they are Protestant. Apparently Monday is also a holiday.
I went into Munich again. I wasn't feeling too adventurous, and thought pizza would be a good idea. 2 pizza places failed my tests: one because the chairs were two high and I would be pointed out the window so anyone could see the unglamorous way in which I eat pizza, the other because I couldn't find the door. After walking many, many miles - an unreasonable number - I happened to find a Pizza Hut. Then, I happened to find some little pizza shop beside it, hidden away. I went for the little shop, based on the idea that it must be very special to be able to survive.
It was rather good. I was concerned that there was only one table of raucous German men in it when I arrived, but relieved to deduce that the food must be alright because the chef had clearly eaten rather a lot of it.
I also went shopping again. Today, I came home with a rather impressive and sharp knife (for most of my cutting needs, I hope), and a normal knife, fork and spoon. Still, I think I've figured out why I'm bad at shopping for the things I need. The things I need are in shops that I find boring. When I'm in the city, I don't go to shops that I find boring. I actually have only been to one useful shop (on two occasions), for the very reason that it looked boring (but also big) and so I thought it must have what I need. I don't know what to do in these places.
Most of the cutlery they were selling was hugely expensive and in big sets. I'm not sure if this is because it's an expensive shop, because I don't really know what to expect from these things. Although I did find a little rack of things just for me.
Like the indecisive donkey who died of starvation because he could see two equally succulent bales of hay an equal distance from him, I stood repeatedly looking at one 2 Euro fork, then at the other, then back again. "Everything working out for you alright there?" was my rough translation of what the shop assistant said. We agreed that it was, in a bumbling sort of way, although both secretly knew it wasn't.
Later, having chosen, I felt the need to explain to her what I was doing as she looked at me sympathetically - her face saying that she knew she was not dealing with a boy accustomed to buying cutlery. On the second go (having got the tense wrong first time) I managed to get out in German, "I'm just staying for 4 months in Munich".
"Ah, those'll do you then", she responded.
The conversation wasn't long (I may have said something else brief, but that was about the height of it). Still it was enough to make things more interesting. Not much more interesting. But a bit. For me, anyway.
People do seem oddly friendly like that. Most of the time no one sees or notices me. But occasionally someone smiles for some reason - like the elderly people yesterday - and we share a sentence or two. Their sentences make more sense than mine, but I still try to give something. Sometimes. At least a "thank you". I think it's progress. Just not fast progress. I must try to find foreign people in Northern Ireland and smile at them in the future. It might make their day. Might not. But might.
Tomorrow will hopefully involve enrolling, opening a bank account, possible registering my address, and buying sheets and a pillow. Pillows range in price from 4 Euro (for a particularly small and bad one) to 50 Euro (for a particularly grand one). The cheapest full-size one that I could find, and which doesn't threaten to make you feel you are sleeping on a bag filled with particularly bumpy birds, was 20 Euro. Shockingly (for me), pillow cases cost the same. So I think this will take more research than I had expected.
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