Oktoberfest!

On Saturday, October 3, 2009, fourteen days after my 21st birthday, I ordered and consumed my very first beer…at friggin’ Oktoberfest! Now how many people can say that?

So yes, everyone, I went to Oktoberfest, and it was crazy and fun and delicious and a little overwhelming all at the same time. Originally I had no intention of going, but who am I to miss one of the biggest festivals in Europe when I’m only 7€ and a 2-hour train ride away? When we met at 9am at the Salzburg train station, there were people everywhere in lederhosen and dirndls, some carrying six packs and already at various stages of intoxication, who were all on the 9:15 train to Munich. By the time we got off the train, the party was already in full-swing, with people stopping in the middle of the crowd to dance and sing at the top of their lungs. The official site of the festival was actually about a 10-minute walk from the train station, but even though we had no prior knowledge of the city, no map, and no directions, it was impossible not to find —just follow the lederhosen.

The festival itself was little like Halloween, St. Patrick’s Day, and a carnival all rolled in to one, and all on a massive scale. Julia and I (yes, I know, it’s Julie and Julia—even I get us confused sometimes) navigated our way through the crowd, trying to take in everything at once, which of course was impossible: there were the wonderful smells emanating from the sausage and candied nut stands, the sound of a thousand voices singing out in unison from the enormous beer tents, the crazy spinning rides that made me ill just watching them, and the masses and masses of people—probably 80% of which fell into some category of interesting, due to their costumes or otherwise—who you simultaneously tried to observe and avoid bumping into, all under the blinding light of the late-morning sun. We made a circle around the place, but by then the crowd was so oppressive that we each decided to grab a bratwurst and make our way to the relative calm of the dead grass patches outside the gates (and let me tell you, it’s no surprise that they sell 650,000 of those wonderful juicy crescents of meat each year).

After lunch, instead of braving the crowds again, we decided to walk the path on the hill around the festival grounds to get a little different perspective. The grassy hill and nearby park were littered with the casualties of Oktoberfest, all sprawled out on the ground in a drunken stupor, some with a half a glass of beer in easy reach, just in case. We saw a couple of policemen strolling in the park stop to check one girl’s pulse. Mind you, that was 2 o’clock in the afternoon—I can’t imagine what that place looks like at 4 in the morning.

So, we had seen Oktoberfest—the good, the bad, and the ugly. It was time for Julia and I to make our small contribution to the 5 million litres of beer consumed there this year. But despite what you might expect, it wasn’t easy—the biergartens and tents were all full, and the only other place we could find that would sell you a beer was swarming with people in no discernable line, with a beer dispenser that was on its last leg. Then Julia and I had to overcome an intense fit of giggles, like we were 12 years old or something. Finally I made it to the front of the swarm, and the young red-headed bar tender asked the three of us at the front, “Was wollt ihr?” I held up my thumb in reply. That was it—no turning back now.

Finally, after an entire day of stalling, after an entire lifetime of apprehension, I took a sip of my very first beer, that I had ordered using my own thumb, and paid with using my own money. And it was…really gross. It didn’t even get better as it went on. It took the pair of us almost an hour and a half to share a single litre. In the meantime, we sat under a tree and talked about life while watching the constant stream of costumed people going to and from the festival. Finally, we had about an inch left in the bottom of the cup, and we were contemplating dumping the rest into the grass, but I couldn’t chicken out now. I decided to try to chug a little bit to get it over with: Bad Idea. Julia and I were both slightly tipsy and very giggly, but that extra big gulp made me dizzy. We walked back to the train station to eat dinner, and I spilled my kebap everywhere and ate a tomato off the ground. My stomach, chest, and face would become alternately warm and cool. I started to slur my words. It was so weird! I’m sure most people reading this are thinking, “Well duh, Julie, that’s what happens,” but I’d never done it before.

Well, that was enough for me. We got on the 7:45 train back to Salzburg just as the sun was setting, with lots of people who were decidedly less sober than we were. The whole experience had been interesting and exciting and fun, and while I’m not sure I’d want to do it again, I’m glad I sucked it up and went. Especially because I can now say that I had my very first beer at Oktoberfest. Prost!