In the Tents!

The first tent we entered, Ochsenbraterie, was a little overwhelming. There were tables full of people everywhere, and we weren’t sure where to sit. We asked a waitress about reservations, and where we could sit, and she said that the crowded side of the hall was for those without reservations, and the nice empty side was for those with reservations. We circulated the tent a couple times, and couldn’t find any seats available. So we decided to try another tent. We did not go into the Augustiner tent because we have already been to the brewery in Munich, and settled on the Paulaner tent. We asked another waitress, and she explained that in this tent, because it was a holiday, all of the seats were available for everyone. We grabbed a seat, ordered 2 litres and some pommes, and waited to be joined by some other people.

Halfway through out first litres, a group of 4 French guys joined us, they spoke a little English, and even less German. But, like most of our social encounters, those who claim not to speak English very well tend to speak it better than even they think. They ordered their own litres and began to chat more. The 4 of them had driven down from France that day, and they were all pastry chefs. At this point, I ordered the largest soft pretzel I have ever seen in my life, probably a foot in diameter, and was trying to lament that the pretzels weren’t served hot. This involved a fair amount of miming, but I finally managed to convey that hot is a temperature, not a head accessory, hat. For the first time in my life, I fully appreciated the subtle differences in sound between “hot” and “hat”. We also taught them “Cheers!” and in turn they taught us, “Santé”. I also learned how to say 8, “huit” (sounds like wheat).

Chugging Contest!

The guys then began to play a card game, much like Kings. We watched for a little while, and then joined in the second round of the game, managing to hold our own. As the game came to a close, we were joined by some actual Bavarians! The 3 girls spoke English very well, and I didn’t speak with the guy, so I can’t comment on his English abilities. There was a song that the oompa band played once an hour, and during this song, 2 people would stand up and have a chugging contest with their beers. One time, two of the girls at our table stood on their benches to compete. I only remembered this after clicking through the pictures from that day, which brings me to an important point of advice, bring a camera to help you remember, because the litres will help you forget.

Tent #3

My next memory is of a tragic accident that befell me. During a prost, someone toasted me and my glass broke apart into several pieces! Beer went everywhere. Apparently this happens frequently, and is a good thing, because all the Bavarians immediately high-fived me after the event. Joe later told me that he had observed a chip in my glass, so it’s no small wonder that repeated prost-ing would weaken the structural integrity of the glass. When Joe finished his drink (mine having been whisked away by an irate barmaid), we decided to try our luck in another tent, and explore more of the fest grounds. We stayed in the next tent for a short period, and then decided to strike out on our own, especially when we realized it was already after 5pm! We realized that we needed to eat something more substantial, and stopped at a sausage stand. We also bought some souvenir steins and made our way back to the train for the ride home, stopping for pizza slices on the way. Overall, we had a fabulous, albeit short, time at Oktoberfest.

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