My Oktoberfest

heathdc — Wed, 7 Nov 2007 22:34:00 GMT

Oktoberfest; Iconic 200 year old German festivity steeped in tradition and history? Monumental booze up whereby tens of thousands of people from all over the world swim about in a multi-cultural melting pot posing as a vast ocean of the finest brews Deutschland has on offer? A bloody good time?

All of the above!

No sooner had my morbidly obese backpack hit the floor of the new London lodgings did I find myself once again rolling up what was now effectivly all my worldly possessions and jetting off into the sunset once again.

"Welcome to Munchen" read the sign; either Munchen translated into Munich or I was in for one frightfully quiet Oktoberfest, spent with half a dozen other ignorant saps crying into our lonely steines wondering where it all went wrong. Nope judging by the amount inebriates littering the streets as we made our way to the Pension Locarno that night, we were either in Munich "Home of Oktoberfest" or this place called Munchen had a problem with alcohol that made Menzies look like a town of tee-tottlers.

After a reasonable nights sleep and a hearty european breakfast, our small circle of fellow Londonites, comprised primarily of Kiwis and Aussies decided to head down to the festival. The first thing you notice about Octoberfest is sheer scale of the thing, reportedly 6 million revelers will pass through the gates over the 16 days of the festival during which some 6 million beverages will be consumed. There are about 30 beer tents which are more like halls, the biggest accomodating up to 5000 people at any one time. A live band typically takes center stage inside most of the halls; entertaining the masses with traditional german folk/pop and classic american renditions. If you don't know the German national anthem before you go to Oktoberfest you certainly have a rough idea by time you leave given it's recited roughly every hour on the hour.

Unfortunatley for us arriving at 10am was nowhere near early enough as most of the beer halls were found to be 50+ punters deep with people waiting to get in. Eventually settling for a table at one of the many ajoining beer gardens we were quickly greeted by our veteran festival hostess Silvia, who couldn't help but quickly impress on us her ability to carry up to 10 full steines for fun...I'm sure had the good lord blessed her with longer arms she could have carried a couple more. Four and a half steines and one giant pretzle later my afternoon had quickly coalesced into a blur of Italians singing, New Zealanders bareing arses and well everybody and intent on just enjoying themselves without any signs of aminosity or violence one would expect to see with this amount of people and alcohol involved.

Beer halls aside, Oktoberfest also offers drinkers the chance to line there stomachs with plenty of food; vendors peddling outrageously long sausages, giant pretzals and big bags of pom-fritz (french fries). And then there is the avenue, should the mood strike you, to throw everything up, by partaking in one of the many amusement rides, rollercoasters and the like.

Couldn't recommend Oktoberfest highly enough to anyone who hasn't already experienced it...afterall 16 million people can't be wrong.

My Flight

heathdc — Wed, 10 Oct 2007 02:57:00 GMT

"Roasted cashews sir?" enquired my attendent, clearly a male model masqerading as a airline steward. More bloody nuts I thought as I surveyed the carnage of "empties" quickly accumulating around me and my Malaysian neighbour, Snuffles (aptly named due to a bothersome sinus condition obviously aggravated by airline travel). What is this? Five packs already? My cheeks barely dry from teary departure lounge kisses (it had seemed like only moments ago I was enroute to Perth International, cueing up a Dido rendition of Janis Joplin's classic Leavin' On A Jet Plane to spark some sort of emotive scene from my steely faced family members; clearly this break would do them good) big corporation conspiracy perhaps..."Give the fools their cashews, they'll gorge-down their own weight in nuts, leaving little room for their Shrimp Salad, Poached Shark-Lips and Cos Cos" What the hell I thought, knocking the top off yet another bag.

Snuffles, I quickly learned was a construction engineer who flew Business frequently, much of our discussion that day has now been consigned to the recycle bin of my seive-like memory, I do for some reason remember discussing with him the trouble one has finding adequate workers in the market place at the moment and me all-the-while nodding sympathetically to my fellow titan of industry....oi Snuffy where are those brandy and cigars we ordered?

Flying Business Class held many charms, one though I felt outshone them all; more addictive then the mountain of comlimentary nuts, more intoxicating then the countless tiny glasses of champagne, more relaxing then movies on demand.....Guilt-free reclining, oh yes this in itself is almost worth that exorbetent price tag. The ability to ease back into your personal fibreglass cocoon, with piece of mind that separating your head from the crotch of the unfortunate soul behind you is more then merely 2 inches of headrest.

My connection from Singapore to London was much the same, with the usual Business fair on offer, with one exception. British Airways in all their wisdom boasted an "innovative seating configuration" whereby the seats face each other but in such a way the the other person face is probably no more than a couple feet away, less than ideal for a 12 hr long haul flight. Your one salvation, a pitted glass screen, that at the push of a button provides a frosty veil of privacy.

Soon after being seated it was pretty clear the once chatty demenor amongst my fellow passengers had all but melted away in the face of yet another 12 hours in the air. My mid-air companion was no-longer, that chatty, inquisative congested little man I had now come to miss, but a stoney faced westerner whose conversation for the entire flight within 30 seconds of being seated...."hmm this is weird". We both sensed what had to be done, that petition had to go up, but neither of us it would seem had the nerve to make the move. I like any self-respecting man waited until old-mate had fallen to sleep and then after a few tense moments working out how the damn thing worked put up the screen.

The proceeding 12 hours remain for me a blur of hot facial towelles, the opening 20mins and final 5mins of several movies and numerous trips to the poorly ventilated and none-too-spacious airliner latrines. And before you could say Deep-Vein-Thrombosis I was being directed to "stow-away my tray and hand luggage and return my seat to it's upright position" for we were making our final decent into London.

Neither Here Nor There....

My Oktoberfest

My Flight