Munich's Oktoberfest lives in a sort of infamy, which is understandable considering it is a 16-day celebration of beer held in what is fundamentally a giant fairground. In an attempt at cultural integration, myself and a number of other Erasmus students decided to make the pilgrimage to Theresienwiese.
Munich being a considerable trip from where I'm currently studying, it meant an early rise on Monday, followed by journey by plane, train and auto-mobile... well, by bus and ferry, but I'm prone to exaggeration. Following a thrilling bus trip along the grey, rainy autobahn, we arrived in Munich.Only those with a troublingly poor sense of direction would fail to find die Wiesn at this point. If you failed to take initiative and follow the heaving mass of lederhosen and dirndl-clad geriatrics, you should take a moment out to reassess your life choices.
We admirably avoided getting distracted by the enormous Toys'R'Us on our route and made it to Theresienwiese. Upon first impressions Oktoberfest defies any preconceived notions you would have had about a beer festival. How I would best describe it is as a particularly camp, christmassy agricultural show, where the dress-code is Bavarian folk. Strikingly, the site is full of funfair rides, which I would consider counter-intuitive as the beer is served in litres. Litres. Think about that one for a minute.The most sensible thing to do upon arrival is seek out a seat in one of the tents. We headed to the Paulander tent first. 'Tent' isn't a very apt name for what is in reality a TARDIS-like alpine cabin on the inside. You're immediately met with a cosy jolly atmosphere, owing to the festive decorations and cheerful din of the brass band.
Around 5.30pm is when the tables get taken over by those who pre-booked and the likes of ourselves are moves pitifully along. Releasing tipsy 20-something year-olds upon the souvenir and catering vendors is an act of calculating, Machiavellian cunning. Suddenly the act of buying a fridge magnet and chips moves speedily up the list of priorities. The idea of going on the fairground rides doesn't seem as foreboding as it did before 3 mass of beer. Competing with a child for the last pink balloon suddenly becomes acceptable behaviour.
Soon after this came the point to go home, so we waddled in tipsy mournfulness back to the bus station and after a moment of clarity, where you buy yourself a litre of water for the trip back, we got back on the bus. And it's sad. Until you realise how funny a tipsy bus journey can be.My trip to Munich was quite hurriedly planned and impulsively booked, but it was a day well spent. Three days beforehand it didn't even occur to me to go to Munich. The Theresienwiese is a happy place and if yo ever get the chance to pay it a visit, I say grab it with both hands.
