That could pretty much describe my experience in Munich. When people say Oktoberfest is a sight to see, they really mean it's an overwhelming, dizzying, electrifying, hilarious, stupefying, and once in a lifetime sight you can't help but seeing.
My introduction to what the next few days would be like was this:
After getting to my hostel by way of the U-Bahn, which is their underground subway system, and which was more packed than the Boston's B-line before a Red Sox game, I entered my dorm room to find an Australian woman drunkenly passed out on the table.
This was when I met Rob, a retired teacher turned cartoon artist.
He's been coming to Oktoberfest every year for the past eight years, and this time had pinned down a sweet gig as a beer reviewer. This entailed him being sober one hour a day, which was the last one before he woke each morning from sleep.
Although, he did make a great friend-for-a-day. He showed me where three different grocery stores were by actually walking me to them! It didn't do me any good my first day because apparently everything is closed on Sundays with the exception of bakeries and bars.
Sadly, when I asked some Germans where I could find a place to buy food they pointed me to the McDonald's down the street. More sadly, I actually went. I justify this by saying that the standards for Mickey D's are a lot higher in Europe than in America.
Rob also walked me around pointing out the best places in the neighborhood, told me which beer tents to avoid, and showed me a couple important routes in the subway system!
I was a little skeptical of his friendliness but soon realized that it was his deep love for Germany that made him excited to orient people to it. In fact, the last time I saw him he was browsing Munich apartment listings.
The Australian girl, Shakira, later awoke to find that she'd made two beds up with fresh linens but failed to make her way to either of them. She spent the rest of the night having a five year old's dream conversation with two of our roommates from the Isle of Man about vomit, poop, competitions and everything else they'd seen and done since arriving.
Because of this I spent half of the next day sleeping, and the other half hanging out at the Weisn.
Every day I was in Munich I had it in the back of my mind to go to The Clubhouse Bar. For booking my hostel through Oktoberfest Beds, this bar would give you all the free beer (of a certain variety) you could drink from 1-5pm, a free stein, and tee-shirt.
It seemed like something of a hassle because I don't have a knack for easily getting where I'm going, and it was a trip on two different U-bahns away. Not actually all that far from where I was located, just an inconvenience to my lack-of-sleep-laziness.
When I did finally meander my way over I was glad I'd made the minuscule effort. I found myself in pleasant company with two Aussies on break from University and a friendly bar manager, Alex, who was very in the know on the whole Oktoberfest scene.
Not two seconds after he popped the cap on my second beer, in strode my luck of the day.
Hunter.
A ridiculously tall, not just in comparison but in general, handsome and charismatic (though a little egotistical for my taste) ex-pat. He worked at the bike tour company across the street and had ducked into the bar to seek refuge from "the annoying Italian," a co-worker of his.
His irritability (or her obnoxiousness) did me a favor, because by the time my beer was finished I had my very own guide to Munich.
I hopped on the back of his tandem bike and off we went!
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| This guy is surfing on a river! |
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