nigel davenport | net

17+ steins of beer and a pig knuckle

The hotel I was staying at was conveniently located a couple of blocks from the fair ground where the festival is held. But of course this really wasn’t going to help me much as I tend to get lost all the time after a few pints.

After checking in and a quick nap the group I was with (Aazza, Scotty, Craig, “Hot” Dave and Krish) trucked off down to a local beer hall. I have already experienced a beer hall before, and so I adjusted quickly to the process. It was however on a much bigger scale than I had experienced, there must have been a good hundred tables here and all full of imbibing Germans. This was all mid-afternoon Friday and the place was already starting to pump.

The table ordered steins, and then I ordered a pig’s knuckle with sauerkraut. It was surprisingly delicious and after another stein it was time to move onto the Hofbrauhaus, where we would all stay for the remainder of the night. It was late afternoon and the place was already heaving. We struggled to find a seat for the six of us, but when we did, steins were ordered all round, prosting was initiated, and the carnage began. We sent Scotty off on a reccy, and he returned a while later with a new table closer to the action. We stayed at this table for the rest of the night, and met countless American girls who couldn’t get enough of us.

Oktoberfest seems to be a big event for the antipodeans, and I soon found this out when I bumped into Joe “Bloody” Menzies. I hadn’t seen this guy for a few years, was unaware he was in this neck of the woods. For some reason the phrase “Joe Bloody Menzies” became a much spoken phrase between our group throughout the weekend.

I’m not entirely clear on the details but we left the haus around 10pm completely wankered. We were back at the hotel by 10.30pm after some silly antics on the streets. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but trying to wrestle on the streets on Munich attracts a whole lot of blank stares. I guess they will never get used to silly kiwis trying to prove themselves.

A 7.30am wakeup call was not something I was looking forward to. But upon arriving at the breakfast bar we were greeted by a gorgeous blonde lass and this made the much need nourishment intake a whole lot sweeter. Her kiwi language skill wasn’t so hot though and despite attempts to chat to her she just smiled appreciatively.

After breakfast we made our way to the fair ground where Oktoberfest is held. We wanted to get there early so we had left just after 8am. The antipodean crowds were already amassing outside the favourite Hofbrau tent for a 9am opening. However we had failed to realise that Oktoberfest doesn’t officially open until 12 midday, so we were left sitting at a table simmering in our hangovers whilst eating white sausages. The idea of drinking away the hangover was not going to work.

There was plenty of action to observe however. We had conveniently located a seat just outside the infamous Pig Pen. After a while the throng was bored and the only thing to do was entertain themselves by ripping each others underwear off, wedgie style, and tossing it as high as they could onto the hanging pig. When the party officially started and the steins were rushed to the anticipating crowd, this kind of behaviour only got better. Not even females were safe.

The afternoon flowed along with stein drinking competitions, the chatting up of German girls and meeting up with fellow kiwis who I hadn’t seen for ages. At one point, probably after my sixth stein, I tried to hold a conversation with another stunning German girl. However I don’t think she quite understood my accent, and her boyfriend agreed that I wasn’t making any sense so I moved onto some girls that could understand me.

I soon realised that I was the only person left from my original group (Scotty was still there as well but I think he was hiding from me). Unsure of the time I decided that eight steins was probably my limit and made my way out of the tent. Somewhere I took a wrong turn and ended up miles away my hotel with a dead phone. The fogginess of good German beer had clouded my poor swollen brain by now and my motor skills weren’t the best which is probably why the first taxi just kept on driving. The next one did stop however, but he barely understood a word I said and it took at least five minutes for us both to work out where I was staying.

I worked out that I must have left the Hofbrau around 7.30pm and had wandered the streets for 2 hours looking for familiar surroundings. Not long after I had arrived back at the hotel Aaron and Craig showed up talking about ending up in some gay sex show. I wasn’t really sure what they were on about but apparently they “took a wrong turn” as well. I was pretty much incapacitated by then, and despite their attempts to get me to go out again I left them to it.

Sunday morning arrived and still feeling the effects of a good days drinking, we all decided to sleep in. Check out was around 10.30am, and after a long shower and an even longer breakfast, followed by some parade watching, we crawled our way down to the lobby. The hotel staff was kind enough to let us leave our bags there for the day so that we could have an “easy” last day in the city. Our flight was around 7pm that night and none of us wanted to miss it.

However after arriving at Oktoberfest again we soon forgot all about the time. We had decided that we needed to visit more tents and we decided on doing a stein crawl - that is one stein per tent. The first stein went down great. More American girls were keen to chat but we had a schedule to keep to. The next tent we went to was already pumping so we decided to stay for two steins instead.

On our way to find our next tent the opportunity to go on a fair ride was too good to miss - especially in our slightly intoxicated state. We settled on a ride that was 53m tall when at its highest. I think Krish was the only one not sure about it but a bit of peer pressure never hurt anyone. It was a great view from the top and it got better when the open vessel we were sitting in stalled upside down at the top before hurtling us towards terra-firma again.

We stumbled off to the third tent, feeling well buzzed after an adrenaline hit. This tent was absolutely heaving and we convinced ourselves to stay for at least another three steins. Krish was being a girl about her drinks so I was continually being forced to finish hers so we could order some more.

After table hopping we found ourselves a great table, being vacated by some Germans dressed in Napoleonic uniforms. The regalia was authentic replica and they even had muskets to complete the show. After they left we invited some more people to our table and by the time it we needed to leave I had to be dragged out of there still singing songs I didn’t know the words to.

The trip back the hotel was a blur and so was the tram ride to the airport. I don’t know how we did it but we managed to make check-in. The only slight hitch was trying to find a toilet in the foreign airport and as I ran through the open hallways grabbing my crotch I feared I wasn’t going to make it. The drinking didn’t stop however and a final beer was in order as the plane left Munich.

I ended up in my bed back in London around 1.30am. I had one of the best weekends of my life so far, and no one got hurt - which is a rare occurance. However the next two days were pure hell as my body got withdrawals from alcohol. I felt at one stage like crawling up into a little ball under my desk at work, but naps in the park during lunch made my recovery a bit more bearable. I had avoided an alcohol induced death once again, and I am glad for it. Next Oktoberfest I think I will take an extra day off. Or spend it drinking.

Photos
Oktoberfest