Oktoberfest

This Blog post is long overdue, I know.

just imagine that I posted this around October 5th....

For the past few days I have had the house to myself as my family is in Spain on vacation.  I have also had the luxury of sleeping in for the past week as I am also on vacation from my language course. 

Nanners in her Dirndl

At the beginning of this month I booked a ride to Munich to enjoy the final weekend of the Oktoberfest.  Once I arrived in Munich I waited in the main plaza, Marienplatz.  I leaned against a lamppost and observed the packs of drunks stumbling from Wiesn (the area of the Oktoberfest) while waiting for Hannah to emerge from the U-bahn.  Howling groups of Italian men standing 5 ft high rumbled through the plaza while a group of Americans in cheap Lederhosen laughed after repeatedly kicking each other in their leather bound crotches.  After about 10 minutes of drunk-people watching Hannah, in traditional dirndl (the traditional Bavarian dress) and braided hair flailing, bounded into my arms.  We made our way back to her house in order to get rest for a full day on the Wiesn the next day. 

          

Saturday morning I donned my Lederhosen, traditional shirt, socks, and of course my Converse Chuck Taylors (according to my host family that is what most people my age wear instead of the traditional Bavarian shoes).  Needless to say I was lookin’ good.  Once Hannah was ready we walked to meet her friend Kaleena, a New Zealand au pair that lived mere blocks from Hannah.  We spent over 3 hours attempting to push our way into tents, but the crowds were simply too great on this last Saturday.  We sulked under the blazing sun between tents amongst Bierleichen (beer corpses) and innumerable piles of vomit.  This day had been consumed by swaths of young Italians, and western European tourists in hopes of enjoying the last weekend of the festival. 

            

It....it....its beautiful.

 The three of us finally made it into the Spatenbrau Biergarten where we sniped a few seats at one of the long tables.  Our grumpiness was soon soothed by several Maß (measure) of delicious Festbier.  The Festbier of Oktoberfest is special in the fact that it is only brewed for this event by select Bavarian breweries.  It also has a higher alcohol content and higher sugar content, this makes the beer sweeter, easy to drink, and much more dangerous.  My favorite, and the favorite of many local Müncheners is the Augustiner Festbier.  Hannah and I spent the first weekend of the Oktoberfest in the Augustiner tent where we encountered a group of Germans that proved to be very nice and intended to meet us again the last weekend. 

The Augustiner Festzelt

Our Croatian friends

Obatza cheese and a Bretzel

In the Spaten Biergarten we sat across a group of 16 year old German girls who offered little in conversation and whose immaturity only served to make me feel old.  They soon left and were replaced by two older couples, one from Munich and the other from Croatia.  These couples were far more entertaining.  The Munich man supplied us with Snuff, a paralyzing powdered tobacco that rendered my eyes waterlogged and my mind alert.  The Croatians boasted of their beautiful homeland and their three beautiful daughters, showing pictures as proof.  The entire conversation was held in German and fueled by more and more Festbier, several liters of which were purchased for me by the Croatian man.  What had started out as a failed day had become a success with good beer, good new friends, and good food.  On the Wiesn I only ever ate one thing, Hendl, rotisserie chicken served by the half...amazing.  

             

Hannah and I woke the next morning and nursed our hangovers before we made our way onto the Wiesn once more to meet our German friends in the Paulaner tent.  Our friends hail from a small Dorf (village) outside of Franken and met us several weeks prior on the opening day of the Oktoberfest.  They had defended an entire bank of seats for Hannah, her friend Kaleena, and myself.  We joined them in singing, drinking and eating, and drinking, did I mention we drank a lot?   

The band sat high upon its podium in the center of the tent and produced traditional hymns as well as more modern tunes.  At several points throughout the day men dispersed throughout the tent stood upon tables and cracked whips in time with the music.  Leather snapped mere inches above our heads with enough force to clip off a good chunk of hair or ear, but we drank on. 

 

Whip it good

 Several of our friends conceded to the copious amounts of beer and 

retired, but most stayed.  Benjamin and myself joked about our drinking ‘competition’ as he was impressed at our first meeting at how much German Bier I could sustain.  

 

Sporadically throughout the day a roar would go up around a table as a brave young sole would dare to chug an entire liter of Festbier atop his/her table.  Cheers rang out if the challenger succeeded and boos echoed when they failed.  We prodded each other to attempt the feat, but none of us were that crazy or that drunk. 

After about 10 hours of drinking our bodies were consumed more by fatigue than inebriation, but we quickly jumped onto the table as the band started to close the night with songs the entire tent belted out.  Songs by the Beetles and other classic American rock bands signaled the last minutes of the night.  We stamped our aching feet upon the beer-drenched benches, strained our tired throats in song and crashed our glasses together in a final hurrah.  A good effort this day. 

Our final day on the Wiesn was more geared toward experiencing the rides and treats that were offered outside of the tents.  Hannah and I meandered through the streets and the drastically different crowd of the Fest’s last day.  The young corpses and piles of vomit were replaced by families and couples in modern garb soberly exploring.  We poked our heads into several tents in an effort to see what we have missed.  

View from the ferris wheel

I did better after a few liters of beer...

After several carnival rides and roller coasters we journeyed into a tent called the Teufel Rad (Devil’s wheel).  A small arena with bleachers surrounding a center stage was within.  At the very center spun a large conical wheel that contestants attempted to remain on as employees tried to rip them off balance with ropes and a large ball that swung from the ceiling.  Meanwhile an older man over the intercom made lewd jokes in reference to the contestants and berated them to the enjoyment of the spectators.  Hannah and I both participated twice, both getting pulled off by competitors the first time around.  Hannah lasted a good while her 2^nd time but was edged out by another girl.  My 2^nd time I was able to dive under the dog pile, nearly suffocated in a mass of leather, I was dead center.  The wheel quickly sped up spewing almost 20 others in all directions.  3 others and myself clung to the center as the ropes and swinging ball descended on us.  It was only after a took a strong blow to the head by the swinging ball and a lassoed rope caught my leg that I was sent flying toward the wall with a crash accompanied by a general reaction of awe and sympathetic pain by the audience. 

We left the Wiesn, sad that it was over, but proud of our efforts that weekend and the new memories that we created there.