Beating the time between the travels: Creating My Own Tropical Escape at Home

When I was younger, the gaps between tropical trips could feel longer than the holidays themselves. A German winter is particularly good at making a travel brochure look persuasive. Since I could not spend every cold month in the South Pacific, I started finding ways to make the time at home more enjoyable.

Some involved plants and furniture. Others meant getting on my bicycle or finding somewhere warm and green in Munich. None of it replaced travelling, but it stopped the months between trips from feeling like time I was simply waiting to use.

Bringing the Tropics Home

The plants came first: palms, ferns and even a banana plant. My living room gradually took on the appearance of a small jungle. Whether every plant considered a German apartment suitable accommodation is another matter, but the greenery made me happy.

Rattan chairs and shelves replaced the old mail-order furniture, and a bamboo coffee table joined them. I even hung a mosquito net over the bed for the atmosphere. It was not a response to a Munich mosquito emergency. I simply liked waking up with a small suggestion of a beach hut somewhere far away.

Travel souvenirs gave the rooms their own geography: masks, woven fans, wooden tikis, Fijian souvenir forks and Balinese batik. Thai cushion covers joined the collection. Objects I had brought home became part of daily life rather than being packed away until someone asked to see the holiday photographs.

That is still a pleasure I recognise. A room does not need to reproduce another country to remind you of a journey. Sometimes one piece of fabric or an object on a shelf is enough to bring a particular place back to mind.

The River Isar: Munich’s Own Tropical Retreat

In summer, the River Isar supplied the water that my little indoor jungle lacked. Its pale gravel banks and green edges became my local alternative to a beach. The water was not tropical, and nobody was likely to confuse the view with Bora Bora. Fortunately, I did not need them to.

I would cycle south along the river and find somewhere to spread a towel and spend a few hours. The outing itself mattered: leaving the flat, moving through the greenery and sitting near water. This is a memory of how I enjoyed the banks, not a suggestion that every stretch or island is suitable for swimming or access.

A Shortcut to the Far East: Munich’s Westpark

Westpark offered a different kind of escape. Its Asian gardens and buildings gave me places to wander when my imagination was already travelling ahead of my budget.

The Thai Sala, Nepalese Pagoda and Chinese and Japanese gardens are part of the park’s East Asian ensemble. The park was created for the 1983 International Garden Exhibition, which helps explain why this collection is here in Munich. The city’s Westpark guide describes the gardens and buildings.

I enjoyed spending an afternoon there, looking at the details and letting the buildings recall places I had visited or hoped to see. Bavaria remained firmly outside the park, but a change of surroundings could still change the afternoon. No airport transfer required.

The Botanic Gardens: A Tropical Refuge in Winter

In winter, the Botanical Garden’s glasshouses were a particularly welcome refuge. Grey Munich outside, warm air and tropical greenery inside: that contrast did a great deal for my mood.

The Palm House gave tall tropical plants room to grow in a way my living room certainly did not. The garden describes its spacious, 21-metre-high glasshouse and the palms and climbing plants within. Looking up there put my own banana-plant ambitions into perspective.

I returned for the plants, the warmth and a little time among green leaves when the city outside felt wintry. For current access and visiting arrangements, I would use the garden’s own information; the memory belongs to those years of living in Munich.

Making the Wait Bearable

The plants at home, afternoons by the Isar, Westpark and the glasshouses gave the time between journeys its own pleasures.

Looking back, that seems more useful than treating ordinary life as a long queue for the next departure. The travel memories had already changed what I liked around me. I could make room for them without needing to book another flight.

The Bavarian Alps played a similar part in my mountain dreams: close enough to enjoy often, while a more distant adventure waited its turn.