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Oktoberfest, Munich, and the Gaggle of loud Germans Part 1
Thursday, September 22, 2005

So I started writing this and it got real long, so I've decided to post it in two parts. Four hours total to type this all up, including checking my German spelling, and peicing together my shattered memories...


Day 1
Its 5:15am on the morning of Friday the 16th of September. My alarm has just blared into life for the second time, and in my feeble sleep deprived thrashings to shut it off I fall out of bed and hit the floor.
But I’m awake.
So starts the story of my trip to Munich, Germany, for the opening few days of the Oktoberfest, the great festival started to celebrate the wedding of Prince Ludwig 1 of Bavaria and Princess Therese of Sachsen-Hildburghausen, in 1810.

So, after dressing and washing (not necessarily in that order), those that require transport to the fabled Gatwick airport arrive at my abode.
Thus our journey from the delights of Surrey to those of Bavaria begins. Razorlight in the CD-player, heater on, we’re off, and with one quick stop to pickup one more person it’s onward to the delights of the M25.
Joys of Airport parking aside we’re soon on the plane and sitting on the tarmac waiting to take off.
And then there’s some more sittin’.
But finally we’re in the Air on British Airways flight 2724 Gatwick (London) Terminal N To Munich. I really didn’t know that your legs could telescope inside your body, or for that matter, that plastic could be served as food. BA meals, first time I’ve eaten something where the container tasted better than the food.

So anyway, we landed (is it just me or is being able to see the runway through the wing a little disconcerting?). Baggage claim and a short train ride later we’re checking in at the Hotel. This is great, because I’m knackered and kind of sleepy, despite the fact that it’s only about 1pm local time.

Then those words from the organiser of the trip:
“So if we all meet back down here in the lobby in 15, we can get off to the Hofbräuhaus.”
Okay. So it’s explained to me that the Hofbräuhaus is a famous German pub, which really didn’t prepare me for the size of the place. I mean, I’ve been in some pretty big pubs before but this is something else!
And my previous time working in Germany really didn’t prepare me for the size of the beer. You see in North Germany (least in Düsseldorf and Muchengladback) the largest beer one can buy is a 1/2litre measure, or a groß (large), but in down south it’s very different. The measures we got were maß (Measure(d)?) which is one litre. One litre of beer, especially the 6% stuff they served at the Hofbräuhaus is, erm, a lot.

Anyway, after about 4litres it was time to move on (that’s not go to the hotel and sober up, that’s go onto another fine bierkeller, this time to drink a further litre of weissbier, peculiar but not unpleasant stuff that seems to be almost a cross between larger and British Ale.
And so we stagger back to the hotel.


Day 2
For some reason I wake up with a hang-over.
I go back to sleep.
So I roll out of bed at about midday ready to start a fresh. Some of our group has already moved on to a third Bierkeller, can’t remember the name of that one either, and have already finished a litre before I arrive. I decide to take things easier today, first day of the festival tomorrow so don’t want to be hung-over again.
I order a coke. Much to the amusement of the waitress ( “ahh, baby” ) but she does give me some sweeties when the drinks arrive, which was nice. No one else got sweeties so there!
I finish my half-litre of coke and decide to join the others in the ‘hard stuff’ as I’m starting to get a real sugar rush. Nothing like a litre of beer for balancing that out.
Anyway, two litres later (I said I was pacing myself didn’t I?) we leave to find some place for dinner. Remarkably it seems to be getting on toward late evening (so, erm, where did the last 8 hours go, exactly?).

So we find ourselves in a Vietnamese restaurant, where I get to try to speak German again, till I find out their English is much better than my German (which ain’t hard), of course. Truth be told I think their English is better than mine too.
Anyway, summer rolls are not my thing, but the crispy duck and hoi-sin was nice with a capital, erm, nice.

So we leave the restaurant and its back to the hotel for an end to another hazy day.

To be continued...

COMMENTS

Monday, May 19, 2008 11:05 AM

HAVOCMAN


Very cool. The Hofbrauhaus is amazing, ain't it? Sounds like you had a good time.

Weissbier is The Best Ever, by the way. I know a Fool-Proof cure for that hang over, too.

And you are correct about BA...just plain BAD. Fly Lufthansa next time.

Thursday, September 22, 2005 5:27 PM

THATWEIRDGIRL


hehe...coke...baby...teehee....Sean's a baby...teehee

Thursday, September 22, 2005 5:27 PM

THATWEIRDGIRL


hehe...coke...baby...teehee....Sean's a baby...teehee


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