Oktoberfest

Immediately outside the Munich airport is a train station – I have to say, the Germans are quite efficient with their public transportation.  Boston could learn a thing or two about transporting people from Logan to downtown.  Dritan and I headed toward the maps of the subway system to figure out how to get to Oktoberfest.  Have you ever seen the map of the Munich subway system? All I have to say is “Good luck with that.” The machine to buy tickets isn’t any less confusing – long lines developed while we were there as all the tourists attempted to decipher the words and pictures on the screen in their native tongue.  I was surprised that everything was labeled only in German.  Munich is a major hub in Europe and their airport is by far the best one on the continent.  It was quite ironic to me that the train station just outside was for Germans only. We heard some young men speaking English who seemed to know what they were doing and approached them to ask for help. They were exchange students from the US and had explicit instructions from their German friend on how to navigate to their destination (Oktoberfest like us!)  Finally, we made it onto the right train and were headed into the city.  

Before Oktoberfest, we stopped at Stachus, the central downtown station and walked around a bit to get something to eat before heading to the festival.  I realized one thing very quickly: I was sorely, sorely underdressed.  Having just got off an international overnight flight, I was wearing yoga pants, a t-shirt and sneakers, optimal comfort for sleeping in a 3’x5’ cell they call an airplane seat.  My husband was in jeans and a collared shirt.  I honestly don’t know how he was comfortable at all.  I decided that I would show my American side and simply not care.  Finally, we were on our way to the festival.

Ahhh, Oktoberfest…the sweet smell of roasted nuts, those heart-shaped cookies, and all the beer you could imagine!  My husband and I knew the madness was coming even before we arrived at the festival.  The train was PACKED on the way there, barely any standing room.  It took us a full seven minutes to de-board and make it up the escalator.   I kept seeing these women in traditional Bavarian-style dress  – the scoop-neck, tank style dress, with some sort of feminine shirt underneath, hose and coordinating shoes.  At first I thought these women must work at the festival (why else would you dress like that?).  Except, as I looked around, I realized that every single woman I was seeing was dressed like that.  Many of the men were in traditional attire as well – lederhosen, suspenders and some sort of collard shirt.  From the very young to the very old, all were festooned in this traditional attire.  It was a sight to see. 

As we walked out of the train station, the crowd did not relent at all.  We were pushed and bumped and swept deeper into the madness.  People swirled around us, a mixture of men, women, and children, native and foreign, old and young, in all stages of drunken stupor.  The beer halls on either side were impressive in both their size and the amount of noise coming from them in the form of people singing, dancing, talking, and yelling.  We walked towards the huge ferris wheel, passing by several other carnival rides on the way.

“Do you want a beer?” I asked Dritan, already knowing the answer.  We both looked around at the various choices.

“Nah.”  he answered predictably.

And thus is the story of our life.  J  We’re quiet observers.  Usually it’s “Eh, I’m just not in the mood. I’ve seen it from a distance. That’s good for me.” I have a personal mission to change this particular feature about us.  Life is too short, you know? I want to experience what we can while we can.  We’ll never be the life of the party types, of course (“Only the good die young…” J).  But, well, when I die, I want to look back and say “I did that.  I experienced something. I had a good ride.”  When I look back at this experience, I’ll say “I can’t believe I was at Munich Oktoberfest and I didn’t drink any beer.”

 

I guess we’ll have to go back someday!