Oktoberfest! -September 30, 2006

Casting all tradition and language disparities aside, Oktoberfest is essentially the State Fair with six of the world’s largest beer gardens smack dab in the middle. We took some pictures, but are including others gathered from the interweb to give you, the reader, a better feel for the festival.

The picture below shows one of the major arteries at the festival. This is the one with the beer halls off of it, one of which is visible at the top left of the picture.



If that combination of gravity defying funhouse rides and strong lager isn't just an invitation for someone to toss their cookies, I don't know what is.

Very cool church off in the distance, and there was an excellent massive structure with a statue of a woman holding some sort of wreath of hops off to the left of where this was shot.

Here is a better pic of the legendary beer halls. Remember, these things are enormous- easily bigger than your average high school football stadium in Texas.



Here are a few pictures of the exteriors, which were very ornate, including a talking mechanical lion at the Lowenbrau hall.



Just for fun, a few others:

Spaten


Hofbrau


Augusteiner


And the interiors were exactly as you've seen them in movies -- massive halls with rows of long tables, sunbeams coming in the overhead windows making their way through the smoke, oompah bands, people standing on tables and singing -- just classic.



Below is a scene repeated 10,000 times while we were there. The servers just grab a dozen mugs, walk up to a table and start selling. You have no bill, just pay per litre.





(For the record, neither of our servers looked like this. One was a middle aged man with a giant mole on his chin. The other was a prototypical Bavarian woman in her mid-60s, that is to say she was a fleshy bowling ball with legs).

The scene is set, so let's get to the fun stuff, Jaren and Steve at Oktoberfest. Smartly attired in traditional Bavarian clothing, we arrived at the grounds about 2PM. It was a mild, sunny day, which was certainly a relief considering I was wearing thick leather over 50% of my body. We made a point of not going too nuts too fast, and decided to survey the land before we chose our spot. After 45 minutes of watching aged men out-drink their younger counterparts, and young girls in traditional dress flirting with anything that moved, we decided we were thirsty ourselves. First stop, the Pschorr hall.

One of the first things you notice are the lines out of the halls. What you won't see are doors opening. Sadly, it took us the better part of the afternoon to figure this out. We waited in line at Pschorr, and again at Augusteiner. Would we have preferred to be inside? Sure. But the lines were usually conveniently located next to the outdoor beer gardens, where we had easy access to lager. So we waited and drank, and waited and drank, and had a chance to chat some folks up -- sort of.

Jaren in line


Steve waiting, Bavarian-style




You see, while the German's love and support Oktoberfest as the harvest celebration it is, it seems the better part of Northern Italy has latched onto the festival as an opportunity to get obnoxiously drunk and sing soccer chants (I don't know if this was just an extension of the World Cup, and that being on German soil brought swelling feelings of pride, but they sang their hearts out).

I'm telling you they were everywhere in high fashion, tossing attitude to anything that moved, and as an American in lederhosen I seemed like a magnet for sneers. Not that I cared of course, as we looked freekin' awesome -- but I just couldn't get over an overwhelming urge to headbutt someone in the sternum.

After a while, we decided to forgo entrance into a hall (a good move as we later found out they were reservation only). So we found ourselves a nice seat in the Pschorr garden, and got to the matter at hand.



Shortly after finding our seats, we were joined by two very cool Munich natives Ranier and Thomas. These guys had been coming since they were kids, and had all sort of key info for us. They told us how the halls had become this big tourist thing, and the locals sit outside in the gardens. They also told us the price of beer has doubled in the last 5 years, much to their shagrin. We told them a bit about home (Thomas had been to Seattle), and we talked about Bundesliga soccer (they were clearly Beyern Munchen fans, and not big supporters of Landon Donovan as a result). This truly felt like what Oktoberfest was supposed to be.

Steve and Ranier giving a Prost!


Jaren and Thomas


These guys were great, and we had a very good time with them. What we sort of forgot, though, was to eat! (although we did get a giant pretzel to do some soaking up). Gone was the opportunity for oxtail stew and braised schwein knuckle, and schnitzel and herring. The kitchens were closed, and we were out of luck.



About this same time, it also became apparent that we should probably not have any more beer. On the positive side, I was remembering German words I had forgotten long ago. On the negative side, I was talking to anyone and anything who moved. After a brief stop at the pissoir (seriously, that's what they're called), we were making our way to the bus. Side note: the inventor of lederhosen really knew their stuff. Not only does the suspender/no belt combo create incredible comfort, the design of the fly-area is essential for any activity that involves half-a-dozen liters of lager. Covering the zipperless fly is a 5x5" flap, which can be conveniently dropped for all of your liquid disposal needs. Honestly, I'm never buying pants without the flap again. But I digress.

Here we are, back on the bus to Thalkirchen (surprisingly), giving up one big "Two for the Road" to Oktoberfest.



Let's see, how do I put this diplomatically? Shortly after this picture was taken, Jaren "took a bit of a nap" on the bus, and I watched Munich wizz by while my head and stomach "relived fond memories of State Fairs rides past." Everybody made it back in one piece, and we quickly climbed into the back of the Opal to sleep things off.

The next morning came as a bit of a shock to our systems, and we groggily made our way out of the campgrounds, onto the autobahn and back to Geneva. We did have a chance to stop at what was easily the nicest highway rest stop I've ever seen -- real glasses, plates and silverware for dining it, food choices that included a pasta bar and a roast beef station (and no McD's or BK, although there was a fried fish place, but no drive through). Not kidding, it was like having a hotel restaurant right off the highway.

After spending most of the ride re-hydrating, we arrived home. After two nights of sleeping in a car, the platform bed in our apartment was heavenly, and we both managed to catch near 11 hours of sleep.

Prost!