Briana Banks’ Top 5 Favorite Munich Spots

When you think of Munich, you probably picture beer halls, lederhosen, and Oktoberfest. But if you ask Briana Banks-actress, model, and longtime traveler-what makes Munich special, you’ll get a very different list. She’s been here more than a dozen times over the past decade, always slipping away from the crowds to find the quiet corners, local flavors, and unexpected beauty that most tourists never see. She doesn’t go to the English Garden to people-watch. She doesn’t line up for the Hofbräuhaus. She goes where the real rhythm of the city lives.

1. The English Garden’s Secret Canals

Most visitors stroll the main paths of the English Garden, snapping photos of surfers on the Eisbach wave. Briana skips that. Her favorite spot is the stretch near the Arboretum, where the Isar River splits into calm, tree-lined canals. She brings a thermos of coffee, sits on the grass near the old stone bridge, and watches the water ripple under the morning light. It’s quiet. No music. No groups. Just ducks, cyclists passing slowly, and the occasional jogger who nods but doesn’t stop. She says this is where she unplugs. "It’s the only place in Munich where I forget I’m in a city," she told a friend in 2023. The city doesn’t advertise this spot. You have to know to turn left after the Chinese Tower, past the third bench on the right, where the bench has a crack in the wood shaped like a heart. She sits there every time.

2. Viktualienmarkt’s Hidden Butcher

Everyone knows Viktualienmarkt-the bustling open-air market with fresh flowers, cheese stalls, and pretzels the size of your head. But Briana heads straight for the back corner, where a small stall called Metzgerei Schmid sells hand-ground sausages and smoked meats using recipes from the 1920s. She orders the Leberkäse sandwich on rye with a side of pickled red cabbage. No mustard. Just the meat, the bread, and a sprinkle of caraway. She eats it standing up, leaning against the wooden counter, watching the butcher, Herr Schmid, who’s been there since 1982. He doesn’t speak much English, but he knows her by name now. He gives her an extra slice of liver sausage every time. "It’s not about the food," she says. "It’s about the silence between him and me. He doesn’t ask me who I am. He just gives me what I need."

3. Nymphenburg Palace’s Forgotten Gardens

The main palace gets the crowds. The fountains, the golden statues, the guided tours-Briana avoids all of it. Instead, she walks through the back gate of the Nymphenburg Palace grounds and follows the path to the Badenburg Pavilion, a small lakeside retreat built for the royal family’s private swims. Today, it’s mostly empty. The wooden deck is weathered, the water still. She brings a book-usually something by D.H. Lawrence or Virginia Woolf-and reads under the shade of a weeping willow. She doesn’t swim. She doesn’t take photos. She just sits. She says the silence here feels different than in the city. It’s not empty. It’s full. Full of history, full of stillness. "You can hear the past breathing here," she told a podcast in 2024. The pavilion has no sign. No map. Just a small stone path that disappears into the trees.

4. The Biergarten Behind the Train Station

There’s a biergarten no travel blog mentions. It’s tucked behind the Munich Hauptbahnhof, past the parking lot and the graffiti-covered wall that says "München liebt dich"-Munich loves you. It’s called Am Bahnhof, and it’s run by a retired brewer named Karl. He uses a 70-year-old recipe for his Hefeweizen, and he serves it in thick glass mugs that feel heavy in your hands. No music. No neon signs. Just wooden benches, a few locals, and the sound of trains rolling in every 12 minutes. Briana comes here after long flights. She orders two beers. One for her, one for the man sitting next to her-someone she doesn’t know, but who always has the same quiet look in his eyes. They never talk. They just clink glasses. "It’s the only place in Munich where strangers don’t feel like strangers," she says.

5. The Bookstore That Doesn’t Sell Books

On Schwanthalerstraße, tucked between a laundromat and a shoe repair shop, is a small storefront with no sign. The window is fogged. Inside, shelves are lined with old journals, handwritten letters, and stacks of postcards from the 1950s. This is Das Briefbüro, a place where people come to write letters and leave them behind. Briana visits once a year. She writes a letter to her 18-year-old self. She doesn’t mail it. She tucks it into a wooden box labeled "For the Next One." She never reads what others have left. She says she doesn’t need to. "I already know what they’re feeling," she says. The owner, Frau Weber, doesn’t charge. She offers tea and a chair. No questions asked. Briana calls it "the only place in Munich where no one is looking for a moment-they’re just living it."

These aren’t the spots you’ll find on Instagram. They’re not in guidebooks. They’re not even on Google Maps. But for Briana Banks, they’re the reason she keeps coming back to Munich. Not for the beer. Not for the history. But for the quiet, the unspoken, the places where the city lets you breathe without being watched.