The labels that have been invented to praise or disparage the Bavarian capital are plentiful: Cosmopolitan city with a heart, most northern city of Italy, Laptop and Lederhosen, biggest village of Germany. In a way, Munich is nothing and all of it at the same time: Cosmopolitan and narrow-minded, refreshingly sensual and non-Prussian, conservative and avant-garde. It’s just as difficult to grasp as a look from a summit of the nearby Alps. One thing is certain: The Munich of your yearning exists; you just have to look for it in the right corners. Is it the Bavarian “Gemütlichkeit” and the brusque humour? Then go to a strong beer festival during Lent. Is it fashion and southern Dolce Vita? Then go to Schwabing and the Glockenbachviertel and shop till you drop. Is it the quirky types and an alternative way of life? Then go to the Eisbach surfing in the English Garden or sit down in a student pub in the Westend. Whatever the “Saupreiß” (the bloody Prussian, anybody from outside of Bavaria) is complaining about: In the end, they all come to Munich, see and love it. With all their hearts.