The Best Fest, Pt. 2

OK, I left off approach- ing the Hofbräu-Festzelt (party tent) in leather pants and suspenders. At 6:30pm on an un- seasonably cold Friday evening (which also happened to be a German national holiday) the Oktoberfest fairgrounds were completely packed. Unfortunately this didn't make things warmer, as my Lederhosen were the shorts version, not pants. Our U.S. group of 10 nudged its way shoulder-to-shoulder for twenty-five minutes down the main fairground aisle and then the tent aisle, finally finding the Hofbrau entrance for ticketholders. A short wait and we were in.

I don't know how to describe the environment other than complete revelry and chaos (and quite warm and moist); check out the pictures at the end of the post. The Hofbräu tent fits 7,000 people, mostly on reserved benches arranged so closely together that you're literally back-to-back (pressing somewhat uncomfortably) with your unknown neighbors. The ticket price includes 2 Maß (two liters of beer) and half a roasted chicken (surprisingly quite delicious!). Anything additional, e.g., a gigantic pretzel, more beer, etc., costs a few Euros. After one liter of beer, everyone in the tent is handling their BAC pretty well; things are under control. After one-and-a-half liters, everyone is bombed more or less simultaneously. Then everyone continues to drink somewhere between 2, 3, 4, ? liters more. Brain cells beware.

A centrally-located German oompah band plays mostly classic German drinking songs, occasionally interspersed with a popular song from the last 40 years (still in oompah format), and, literally every five minutes, a short toasting song called Ein Prosit der Gemütlichkeit, or "Toast to the coziness!" At first you toast your table-mates, but before long everyone also toasts the neighboring tables, then people spill into the aisles (due to simply too much coziness) and everyone continues toasting basically everyone all night long. Yes, beer is flying everywhere, and the heavy glass steins are dangerous. We met several awesome German people from Stuttgart and near Frankfurt. Under the heavy influence of beer, most were initially fooled into thinking I also was German and not American, due to my Germanic complexion, ability to pronounce five German words, and my dynamite Lederhosen. Everyone is politely herded out of the tent at 11:00pm; I was waylaid on the crowded dark fairgrounds talking to some weird drunk German guy and somehow separated from our group, requiring me to figure out the tram and walk back to our hotel alone. I somehow made it, Stephanie was justifiably relieved to see me, and I her.

Steph and I enjoyed the honor of repeating the exercise the following morning, starting again at 11:30am for lunch seating at the Hippodrom tent (colorful carnival theme, more upscale and considerably roomier at only 3,200 guests) with our Zürich group of 8 (German/Manhattan/ Australian/Philly/Mexican/Swiss). Guess what? Up to the first liter-and-a-half of beer, we were all still feeling ill from the night before. After that, we all felt great and started toasting the neighboring tables, etc. After 2, 3, 4, ? more liters we were politely kicked out for the next seating at 3:30pm, but then rendezvous'ed with some of the U.S. group and drank additional liters in a cold outdoor fairgrounds beer garden. Finally, for whatever reason, we returned to the scene of Thursday's crime--the Hofbräuhaus itself--for dinner and yes, more beer. Needless to say, craziness ensued all day and evening. I'll spare the details (I can't remember them all anyway).

As could be expected, Sunday was payback time from all the bodily organs harboring hurt feelings from Thu-Sat's inelegant treatment. And there was no escape during the four-hour train ride home. One of our Zürich number looked solidly green from 9:00am at the hotel through the entire trip until we arrived at 4:30pm; his stomach kept rebelling. Poor Stephanie exited the train (with me accompanying her) directly at the Zürich airport--not yet near home--to board a flight for Ekaterinburg, Russia of all places for a week-long work trip. Matt & Mel spent that Sunday night and partial next day with me at our place before continuing their honeymoon to Interlaken and then Italy. Every single Oktoberfest participant that I'm aware of caught a cold the next week; who would've guessed that three solid days of drinking in 40-degree wet weather would compromise one's immune system?

Regardless, the combination of old friends from home together with new Zürich friends at a spectacularly fun event made for our best single time in Europe the past year. A fair number of pictures have been culled so as not to preclude any Oktoberfest participant from running for public office later in life, but these are still good: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=2hd8fyj.3flf93f7&x=0&y=60q99s&localeid=en_US