A few weeks ago I went to Munich to visit my friend who is spending the first part of her year abroad there and to attend something that had always been on my bucket list, Oktoberfest.
As I mentioned, my friend is currently living in Munich, and knowing that she was meeting me at the station was the one factor that got me through the ghastly 6 ½ hour train journey from Berlin to Munich. I do usually enjoy travelling, especially by rail as I can lose myself in my thoughts staring at the passing scenery out of the window, but unfortunately the sun went down 3 hours into the journey, so all I could see was my own restless reflexion. Also my impatience was intensified by my tiredness after a 7 hour shift with excitable foreign children (who I do love, but of course these factors combined do tend to make one tired).
I arrived in Munich at around 22:40 to see my smiling friend waiting for me on the platform, amongst hundreds of drunken locals and tourists with glazed over eyes, wearing Lederhosen and Dirndls (traditional Bavarian clothing). Despite their drunkenness, they were in good spirits, which brightened up the first part of the long journey back to my friend’s house, which is in a village called “Aying” which is 25km Southeast of Munich. Unfortunately by half way through the journey the majority of Oktoberfest-goers had left the train, so I was naturally very happy to arrive in her village. Aying for me was a dream. It confirmed every idea I had in my head of a traditional Bavarian village, equipped with Stunning Dachhäuser, a blue and white Maibaum (may pole) and a famous brewery (Ayinger bräustüberl). This in comparison to the sprawl of Berlin was a breath of fresh air, literally.
The following day (Friday) my friend was working early, but I lay in to sleep off the horrific journey, and then proceeded to explore some of the city by myself. The journey into Munich centre didn’t disappoint, the daylight uncovered charming Bavarian villages and miles of stunning countryside. In Munich city centre I could recognise a few names of areas from a college exchange years ago, this however did not mean I could go without a map (After 2 years in Manchester and a month in Berlin I’m still hopeless at navigating in big cities). Not knowing exactly where to go, I left the train at a random station, which happened to be next to the river Isar, where I sat on the riverbank and ate a Pretzel for lunch, embracing the culture as ever. After a few hours of aimlessly wandering around, taking in random sites, I realised that my phone battery was going to die, and being the 21st century, I would need it. In desperate need of a plug socket, I wandered around the city, but this time with purpose. I sneakily looked in every restaurant and café to see if they had one, and after about 30 minutes I came across a quaint coffee shop on a quiet back street. I ordered a cappuccino and sat watching the world go by. A few people came and went, but it was an old Bavarian woman who particularly stood out. She said something to me, and in that one moment I doubted all of my German abilities. Through her heavy Bavarian accent I could barely make out a word, my contribution to the ‘conversation’ consisted purely of hopeless head nods.
6pm came and it was time to meet my friend from work, and then we were to head off to Oktoberfest. I can honestly say this was one of the most fun nights I’ve had this year. We entered the mystical land of Lederhosen, beer and Reibekuchen in awe and regretting not having our own dirndls. Pessimistic that we wouldn’t get a table inside the large tents we sat outside, but this wasn’t lacking in atmosphere. We drank traditional Bavarian beer and conversed in a mix of German, English and Spanish with a group of people from across Europe. 2 Maßes (aka 2 litres of beer) later and tipsier, we succeeded in entering on of the largest tents in the festival (which can hold up to 10,000 people). We entered about half an hour before closing time, but we still had time to dance on the tables and soak in the atmosphere. I’ve never been surrounded by people so happy and friendly. On leaving the tent it became apparent to me that although 2 maßes doesn’t sound a great deal, in actual fact for a girl of my size 2 litres of beer is a lot. I was truly ‘besoffen’. I won’t go into detail, but let’s say being sick on a train platform wasn’t my proudest moment. Despite this, the night was a success.
On Saturday my friend didn’t have to work so we were free to explore Munich together, which although tourist filled, was very beautiful. We walked around the city centre and found ourselves going down less busy, back streets full of character. We found a small Italian coffee shop, paramount for nursing our beer-induced hangovers. Later in the day we decided to succumb to the pressure, and perhaps hint of jealously and buy dirndls. When people ask me where I bought my Dirndl from, I’d love to say some traditional shop specialising in Bavarian-dress in an alpine village, but in actual fact we bought them from the Hauptbahnhof for €25, and we proceeded to put them on in the train station toilets. Unfortunately Oktoberfest was just too busy on the Saturday and getting around was virtually impossible, so we decided to go and pretend to be German elsewhere and went to a restaurant and had schnitzel and beer. Well, when I say we had beer, I mean I had one sip and instantly was reminded of the events on the platform the previous night. So Apfelschorle it was.
The following day we had to be up bright and early as I had a 10 hour coach journey back to Berlin. Yes, 10 hour. But for €15 we would all do the same. I did quite enjoy parts of it, it was a beautiful sunny day and we covered a lot of Germany so I saw a lot of beautiful landscape, but 10 hours of staring out of a window will give you a bad neck and a lot of tiredness. So as one can imagine, the moment I arrived back into Berlin was wonderful. The weekend in Munich well and truly re-lit the flame I had for Munich as a 17 year old following my college exchange, and I have every intention of returning for Oktoberfest next year.