Oktoberfest in Munich: Prost!

Have you ever wondered what it was like to travel to a land where nobody cares about how many carbs they eat in a day, or how many calories they can count on their plate? Did you think that such a place existed? Well, have no fear. If gastronomic indulgence is your pleasure, then all the answers to your life problems lie in one word: Germany.

            I arrived in Munich last Thursday to experience the absurdity that is Oktoberfest. The largest festival in the world dedicated to one beverage – beer. For sure there is nothing else that can rival its debauchery. Not knowing what to expect, and admittedly a little afraid to enter the fray without the guidance of an experienced German, my friend Aliki and I spent Thursday afternoon exploring the city and enjoying authentic German cuisine.

            You know how in the US at most restaurants you get a complimentary breadbasket before your meal? In Germany, this lovely carb-fest is replaced with none other than a basket of “bretzel”, or as we call it in the US, soft pretzel. And seriously Philadelphia, watch out. Germany has you totally beat with their giant creations. Giant…I’m not even sure that does justice to the size of these things. Gargantuan may be more like it. One bretzel is half the size of my torso. Enough to feed at least five people.

Told you they were big

            After you have gorged yourself on bretzel, always accompanied by a monstrous glass of beer, your real meal arrives - most likely some combination of sausage and sauerkraut, always with a side of potatoes. Always the potatoes. Needless to say, you leave the German dining table feeling like someone needs to roll you out the door. Or at least I did. Uncomfortably full after a traditional Bavarian feast, we strolled (or waddled) home to catch up on sleep and prepare for a full day ahead…

            Oh, I almost forgot. The sites. Well, a lot of people will tell you the only thing to do in Munich is the Fest. And to an extent, they would be right, unless you like going to random museums and then spending the rest of the day sitting and drinking in a biergarten. Not the worst thing in the world, but not exactly intellectually stimulating. However, there is beautiful architecture, including the Glockenspiel and the Opera House. If you’re an Olympics buff, I suppose a trip to the old Olympic grounds would be in order. In traditional European fashion, most the roads converge on “platzs” or open walking areas filled with restaurants, bars, and shops. And the city is impeccably clean! Perhaps my appreciation of this cleanliness is heightened because I now live in France, land where people refuse to pick up after their dogs and cigarettes adorn the city streets like stars on Hollywood Boulevard, but still. I was impressed.

Glockenspiel

            Friday afternoon we met up with our friend Stefan, a bona fide Bavarian, and our guide through the world of Oktoberfest. Clad in lederhosen, clogs, and a checked shirt, he fit right in. Dressed in jeans, flats, and a cute top, I, more or less, did not. Nevertheless, the three of us made our way through the crowds at Thereisenwiese to Hippodrome, the tent where Stefan had (luckily) secured us entry wristbands. Note about Oktoberfest: entry into the tents can be somewhat tricky. If you don’t have a table reservation or wristband, you most likely won’t get in. Some tents will allow you to go early (i.e. 7:30am), stand in line, and get in that way – I actually had a few friends who did this – but it often doesn’t work. Despite these obstacles, there are a few tricks of the trade that might help you in. 1. Men, go with women. The security guards are much more sympathetic if you have someone pretty on your arm. 2. Woman, look pretty and smile at the security guards, then they will let you in. 3. Learn German so you can talk your way in. And my favorite, 4. Have a German friend that lies and tells the security that you work for the largest company in Munich, have a table inside, are here with business associates, and that it will look very badly for them if they don’t let you in. (Just in case you were wondering, it does actually work).

Hippodrome Tent

            Shortly after getting in to Hippodrome, we left to meet up with Stefan’s friends at the Hofbrauhaus tent. Employing method number 4 outlined above, we entered the tent, only to never find his friends. But it really doesn’t matter – it’s Oktoberfest! After two of those beers, you’re friends with everyone. And so we drank, and we made friends. Friends with tables. And we stayed from 4pm until closing, singing along with the bands and dancing on the tables. It was packed!! Oddity about Oktoberfest and/or Germans: they love to sing “Sweet Home Alabama” and “Take Me Home, Country Roads”. Bizarre, right? Did make me a bit homesick though!

Crowded inside the tents

            Saturday was much like Friday. We woke up on the late side, grabbed a bite to eat, and went to meet friends at the Fest. This time we were meeting my friend Sarah from Semester at Sea, who graduated from UVA two years ago and recently moved to Zurich. She was up in Munich with another UVA girl her year, Whitney, and Whitney’s boyfriend, who is from Bavaria. Lucky for us, they had gotten to the Ochsenbraterei tent at 7:30am that morning, and had secured a table. 

Semester at Sea reunion!

Having smiled nicely at the bouncer Aliki and I had had no trouble getting into the tent. With them at a table, we had no trouble getting beer. It was quite nice. The night progressed much the same. Lots of rowdy people drinking, singing, and dancing on tables. The band continued to play American country favorites, mixed with a few Bavarian traditional songs. I now know the complete dance to one of these songs, but couldn’t even attempt to tell you the name of it if I tried.

Seriously big beer.

            Sunday was a day of recovery, to say the least. We got up late, lounged, ate a big meal around 3pm, walked a bit around the city, and returned to the hotel. I doubt I will be drinking beer again for a VERY long time. Oh, but the meal we had. Now that was entertaining. In Germany, everything is closed on Sunday. And I mean, everything. We walked all over the city until we found something open for a late lunch. What did we manage to find? The only Croatian restaurant in all of Munich. So much for authenticity, huh? But oh well, it was good. However, at the end of the meal, I was reminded why there are stereotypes about rude Germans. It is because, in fact, they are rude. Aliki and I were having an enthusiastic conversation about travel (what else?) and why we love it, and perhaps happened to get a tiny bit loud. But the restaurant was full and bustling with people, so it’s not like we were the only ones making noise. As we were finishing, a lovely (insert: very sarcastic tone) German couple was seated next to us. No sooner had she sat down then she turned and yelled at us “Are you deaf? Why are you screaming? Be quiet!” Rude, rude, rude. What if I had been slightly deaf? I doubt she would have even felt bad. Steaming, we left the restaurant, walked around, and returned to the hotel. As soon as we got to the room we cuddled up in our duvets, turned on a movie, and before we knew it, were sound asleep…until about 11pm.

            A little before 11, stomachs growling, we woke up. It had been eight hours since we had eaten and we were hungry. Problem: everything in Germany is closed on Sunday. What in the world we were going to do? I happened to mention that if we were in the US we could have anything delivered within minutes. “Great idea!”, Aliki said. We began to search online for “food delivery + Munich”. Turns out, most of the places that deliver food in Munich are Indian restaurants. No problem for me there, I love Indian as much as the next person. The one problem? How were we supposed to make the call? Neither one of us spoke German. So we tried “Hello, do you speak English?” The answer: “Nein. Sprechen sie Deutch?” Our reply: “No, no German.” They hang up. Turns out, ordering food for late night delivery in a foreign country, not the easiest thing. Eventually we found a place where we could order online. We used google translator to translate all the names of the dishes (tedious work), made our choices, and placed the order. Then we waited. And we waited. And we waited. This was 11pm. When did the food finally arrive? 12:30am. We got an angry phone call from a non-English speaking delivery man who was locked outside the hotel. We crept downstairs, opened the door, paid, grabbed the food, and ran back up – lest anyone should see us being pigs and eating in the middle of the night! Of course, by this time, I was no longer hungry. I took one bite, put my food to the side, and went to sleep. However, there is a silver lining. I now know where to order late night food in Munich, in case I ever go back and get hungry in the middle of the night.

            As I write this, I’m taking the train from Munich back to Strasbourg. Back to the real world, the one where I start my job in 3 days! I am so excited to get to work. I’ve been itching to have something to do in Strasbourg, and the teachers at my school seem incredibly nice. My first day is only observation, but I am glad to finally meet the teachers, students, and do what I came here to do – teach!

P.S. Since we continue to not have internet at our apartment, I post all of my entries from the local Subway. 5 dollar foot long, anyone?

P.P.S. And if you're wondering what prost means, it's cheers in German.