Like
the mysterious leaping of the lemmings, or the irresistible
force of salmon swimming upstream, herds
of backpackers converge on Munich at roughly
the same time each year for the phenomenon known
as Oktoberfest.
It's a unique event that
combines copious amounts of beer, bucolic processions,
folk dancing, lederhosen, agricultural shows, horse
races and, yes, those oompah bands. This year the
fun begins on Monday 18 September, with the mayor
officially opening proceedings by tapping
the first keg with a joyful cry of 'O'zapft ist!'
(The beer is tapped!), and ends in a bleary haze
on 3 October.
Oktoberfest began as a humdinger of a wedding reception
back in 1826 when Crown Prince Ludwig married Princess
Therese of Saxony-Hildburghaussen. The wedding was
such an outstanding success that Ludwig, God bless
him, decreed it be put on the social calendar as
a permanent fixture. Since then, numerous activities
and events have been added in an ad-hoc manner and
today it's a heady melange of animal husbandry,
Coney Island corn and red-cheeked, lederhosened
Bavarian tradition. When all is said and done, though,
it's
all about the beer.
Old hands who've already
completed a tour of duty of Oktoberfest are apt
to regale raw recruits with lurid technicolour
tales of Dutch courage gone loco. These urban-drinking
legends, usually involving someone who knew someone
who knew someone, make the place sound
like a cross between a messy bivouac and the fallout
from a frat-boy party.
So it's a surprise to find, once you finally
get there, not makeshift tents surrounded by prostrate
bodies and the palpable smell of second-hand beer,
but neatly sealed roads and huge beer halls standing
in military formation. Dotted between the halls
is a host of fairground rides. (Now there's a
brilliant concept – combine large quantities
of beer with free-fall drops and 4 G's. Why hasn't
anyone else thought of that?)
But even with evocative nicknames like 'Pig Pen',
the halls suggest a certain Bavarian decorum;
a bacchanalian frenzy might be on the cards but
this is, after all, Germany and even lawless anarchy
requires boundaries, order
and some rules.
Veterans know to plan ahead with the military
precision of a field marshall with a thirst –
they understand it's a marathon, not a sprint,
and it's the lagerphile with longevity and stamina
who will maximise returns. But in the end even
amateur dilettantes – sherry-sippers, shandy-swillers
and the like – are just as welcome. For a
festival with sheer joie de vivre you just can't
go past Oktoberfest.
— Lisa Kerrigan 18.09.00
Lisa Kerrigan is a writer for Lonely
Planet On-line.
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