Munich Travel Guide: Discover the City with Leonie Saint

It’s just after sunrise on a wild June day. Leonie Saint, in smart sneakers and oversized sunglasses, leads the way down a street off Sendlinger Tor, grinning at the early morning energy. Munich, often sold as a picture-perfect city, has plenty of stories layered behind painted facades and tourist-packed beer gardens. But when you walk it with someone who knows the back alleys, the rooftop bars, and the places where locals actually linger, suddenly every street feels alive with secret possibility. Today, you’re tagging along with Leonie, a longtime local with a nose for what really matters when you’re out to explore. Are you ready to skip the lines and jump right into that delicious Munich chaos?

A Different Kind of Beer Garden

Most folks show up in Munich hungry for a bucket-list beer garden photo at Hofbräuhaus, imagining that’s as authentic as it gets. But Leonie shrugs: "It’s fine for tourists — real taste, though, happens elsewhere." We start at Augustiner Keller, a lively, tree-shaded expanse where homemade pretzels arrive soft and blessedly salty. Yes, you’ll still spot people in dirndls, but check out who’s pouring the beer — Augustiner’s not only the oldest independent brewery in town, it’s the only one run without an international beer conglomerate pulling the strings. Ask for an "Edelstoff" and you’re guaranteed a cold, golden pour that’s been made the same way for over 130 years.

But the real magic comes when you find Munich’s "hidden beer gardens." Leonie loves Micheligarten, tucked in the Englischer Garten, just north of the Japanese Tower. Here, there are no grand tour buses, just families and old friends trading stories over radlers and cyclist groups refueling with grilled sausage. If you’re after a hyper-local tip: check the daily menu, because on weekends, they serve roast pork that vanishes before 2pm.

And here’s something quirky: During high summer, Munich’s beer gardens allow guests to bring their own picnic (yes, baskets and all — they only ask that you buy your drinks from the bar). Pull together a feast from Viktualienmarkt, where every cheese counter and pickle vendor is ready to add something to your spread. You’ll see people setting up birthday parties, or a crew of students grilling sausages beside a bunch of grandmothers playing cards. It’s a reminder that community is Munich’s true flavor.

If you really want to feel the city’s rhythm, come on a Wednesday evening, when many beer gardens play live Bavarian "Blasmusik" bands — horns, tubas, the works. Leonie swears nothing pairs better with a Maß (that’s a full liter!) of amber beer and a slice of fresh Obazda cheese spread.

The Art and History You Won’t Find in Guidebooks

Yes, the Pinakothek galleries are loaded with masterpieces, and Nymphenburg Palace looks stunning in golden hour light. But Leonie’s got her own favorite spots. She nudges you to the Haus der Kunst, a massive concrete bunker that once symbolized Nazi cultural ambitions but now throws cutting-edge exhibitions and raucous afterhours parties. Last year, they drew more than 350,000 visitors — not bad for a place many tourists walk past without realizing what’s inside.

Step off the museum trail, and you’ll hit the graffiti-scrawled walls of Tumblingerstraße. This open air canvas rotates murals from artists around Europe. Every time you return, there’s something new. Locals come by for photoshoots, skate tricks, or just to sit and watch the creativity bubble up. It’s the opposite of stuffy — these art pieces speak to Munich’s ever-changing culture, half rebellious, half refined.

History in Munich has sharp teeth, too. Leonie insists on a visit to the White Rose Memorial, tucked on the LMU campus — a simple marble plaque and leaflets buried underfoot, all marking the students who resisted Hitler. It’s quiet here, more powerful for its lack of spectacle. She says: "People imagine Munich all Oktoberfest and oompah bands, but every street has another story." If you want a deeper dive, the NS-Dokumentationszentrum (Munich Documentation Centre for the History of National Socialism) offers a blunt, honest look at the city’s darker chapters. Entry is free under 18 and for students. It’s not cheery, but you walk out a little smarter, and maybe a bit more aware of why Munich’s locals take "never again" so seriously.

For those who prefer their art with peace and a great view, check out the rooftop terrace of Museum Brandhorst. From here, you get neon-colored building blocks plus a sweep of Munich’s skyline. At sunset, art nerds and Instagrammers jostle for the perfect shot, while downstairs, some of the city’s weirdest modern exhibitions wait around every corner. Worth it? Absolutely.

Neighborhood Vibes: Schwabing and Glockenbach

Big city squares and baroque churches get all the postcard glory, but the real Munich starts when you detour into neighborhoods. Leonie leads into Schwabing, the arty student haunt north of the city center. Café Frischhut here trades in apple fritters so hot you’ll burn your fingers, and there’s always a table of local writers fussing over their notes. You’ll spot the University’s bike racks — more than 35,000 students pedal through the neighborhood every semester, which keeps things energetic but never too wild.

Schwabing might be gentrified, but it’s still got bite. Find Connewitzer Straße’s old record shops, then hit the Englischer Garten’s southern swerve for afternoon sun and roller bladers zipping by. There’s a weekend flea market in Elisabethplatz, usually with indie designers, vintage maps, and truly odd old Bavarian cowboy boots. Leonie tips you off: ask about the "real" beer garden behind the market, half-hidden by trees and usually skipped by visitors.

Across the river, Glockenbachviertel is Munich’s LGBTQ+ epicenter, overflowing with street art, pop-up galleries, and bars that stay open even after the trams have stopped clanging for the night. A decade ago, rents were dirt cheap; now, it’s expensive, but the energy sticks around. The drag brunches at Café Glück and the monthly music jams at Kranhalle drag in a wild, open-minded crowd. Drag queens shop next to grandmothers shopping, and everyone seems just fine about it.

For food: Glockenbach’s bakeries serve "Schmalznudeln," a fried dough that’s basically legal crack. Drop by for a sweet pick-me-up at noon, then duck into a secondhand shop to rifle through piles of vinyl records and embroidered jackets. If you want something unique to take home, go for a custom notebook at Inge’s Paper & Pen Workshop — she’ll stamp your initials and tell you stories about the "old Glockenbach" as she works.

Nature in the City: Parks, Rivers, and Rooftops

Most cities claim green space, but Munich actually measures bragging rights per square meter. According to city stats, around 1,280 hectares of the city’s surface is pure parkland, and there are more than 20 major green parks open year round. The Englischer Garten is the world’s largest urban park — bigger than New York’s Central Park, if you’re counting.

Spot the "Eisbachwelle" around mid-morning, and you’ll catch helmeted surfers carving a never-ending wave, right in the center of town. It happens where the Isar River’s side channel narrows — Munich’s only official city surfing spot. Before noon, locals queue politely for their turn, but by sunset, sly out-of-towners sneak into the action. Even if you don’t surf, sit on the edge and watch: you’ll cheer, even if you don’t know the rules.

Leonie loves the stretch south along the riverbank called Flaucher. Here, grills glow, beers chill in the shallow pools, and everyone acts like it’s your buddy’s backyard party. Local rule — topless sunbathing is totally accepted, and nobody will care if you join in. Barbecue smoke, the clink of cans, occasional laughter drifting over the current — this is what Munich feels like in the dog days of July.

If you want an offbeat viewpoint, the Olympic Hill is a twelve-minute tram ride from the center, left over from the 1972 Games. Hike to the top for 360-degree views (tip: hit it at dusk in August for the Perseid meteor shower). The hill itself is artificial, built from World War II rubble that once was bombed-out city blocks. Even the ground has a story.

The city’s rooftops are worth a mention, too. Deck 21, perched on a parking garage, is a secret bar where bartenders know your name after your second drink. There’s no sign, you enter through a graffitied stairwell, and when you step out, Munich opens up like a map under stadium lights. Leonie’s tip: come before 5pm and there’s rarely a line — after sunset, everyone’s in on the secret.

Hidden Eats and Nightlife: Where Locals Refuel and Unwind

Ditch that tourist burger in Marienplatz. Leonie’s all about hidden restaurants and back-alley late-night joints. If you want schnitzel without the schtick, Spatenhaus an der Oper serves it crisp, buttery, and as big as your plate. The real magic, though, happens in the late-night "imbiss" bars — tiny counter joints that stay open until 2am, perfect for stumbling in after hours of exploring. Vincent’s Currywurst on Müllerstraße is legendary. Here, the signature dish is smothered in homemade sauce and served with a grin. It’s where you’ll see everyone from night-shift nurses to DJ crews getting a post-work fix.

Feeling adventurous? Join Leonie as she hunts down Döner Kebab stands — Munich has over 150 according to a recent food blog census, and she swears the best is run by a Turkish family a few tram stops from Sendlinger Tor. The lamb is slow-roasted, pickles are cut fresh. When asked for secrets, the owner just laughs and shrugs.

Drinking isn’t just about beer here. Munich has a rising craft cocktail scene, with places like Zephyr and Die Goldene Bar topping every "best of Europe" list. Die Goldene looks like a Gatsby fantasy — scrollwork gold maps on the wall, servers in white dinner jackets, and a menu that reads like a love letter to local botanicals. Don’t order complicated if you’re fresh off the plane. Start with the gin and tonic. It’s bright, clean, and all Munich. For a non-alcoholic treat, check the local apple juice spritzers, served everywhere. Bitter lemon and fizzy Apfelschorle can get addictive on a hot day.

Nightlife here stays mellow till late, so don’t expect much action before 10pm. Leonie likes the way clubs and bars spill onto the streets, groups mingling, DJs spinning ‘90s techno, and everyone’s a little giddy from too much sun and too many pretzels. On weekends, you might find an open-air techno rave under railway arches near Ostbahnhof — check community boards and Instagram stories, since locations hop around and only locals seem to know the night’s password.

If you get lost, don’t panic. Munich is as safe as cities get, with one of the lowest crime rates in Europe — city police reported a decrease in violent crime by 12% last year. The biggest risk? Missing your midnight tram. But even then, Leonie jokes, "There’s always another beer garden open somewhere."

Munich isn’t just scenery and old stories. The city moves, breathes, shrugs off its cliches, and gets better the closer you look. Tag along with someone who knows the real side, and suddenly it’s not just a trip — it’s your own story in the making. And that, Leonie would say, is worth more than a hundred tourist photos lined up in a dusty album.