Oktoberfest - in India?

Our next trip was to Munchen – Munich, for the Oktoberfest, and then onto Austria. This trip was one that took huge amounts of planning since we were trying to coordinate with a friend from Germany as well.

Oktoberfest was great – people really get into the mood for it there. And the gear as well. Bavarian men and women dotted the landscape, whichever direction you looked in. As usual, the women had unleashed all creativity on their outfits and there were Bavarian tops with leather pants, denim miniskirts, knee high boots, et al. The fair itself was like one of our ‘Appu ghars’, nothing more, nothing less. As usual, it was the exuberance of the people which made it different. Masses of junta from all over the world, the tents were overflowing, as were the beer mugs. Revelers dancing and swaying to music – mostly German songs, played live by groups of musicians. Different breweries had their own tents and each one had a different atmosphere. We went through all of them (were there six in all?) and chose on one that looked most fun. We managed to get a table for half an hour (strictly) and ordered beer. The beer tasted just as bad, but the excitement was infectious, and even though we didn’t know the songs, or understand the words, we got onto our benches and jigged a little.

Afterwards, we walked a bit through Munich. The best thing about these European cities is that they are all pretty and small. They have picturesque ‘city-centers’ and a whole bunch of people legging it. Quite touristy and easy on the pockets too. We went to Karl Platz , Mariann Platz, Eglise Garden and also managed to hop into a lounge bar and have a few drinks. This was the first of our many, many bar, pub and discotheque sagas. We people liked our spirits high.

For the night, we had booked ourselves at a hostel in Regensberg – an outskirt. It took us a couple of hours to get there – and I also recall there being a train strike in Munich that day! We reached somewhere near midnight, tired and ready to hit the sack – when the true import of backpacking smote us between the eyes. The owner of the hostel didn’t open the door, I suppose there was a deadline to the place that we had overshot, and we were left stranded into the cold chilly night.

That night was easily one of the more painful ones in Europe. We were cold and sleepy; and although there were a couple of over-priced hotels around, like true shoe-stringers, we decided to rough it. The upholsteries of Mac D’s, a local doner shop and Burger King were the beds beneath our butts that night.

See, things are much better organized in Europe. While, a fair of the magnitude of the Oktoberfest is planned to the tee and executed almost without hitches, where the motto is to leave no stone unturned to make it a memorable and ‘come-back-for’ experience and beer maidens are hired by the thousands; it also so happens that five tired travelers don’t get entry into a private hostel, the owner living just around, since they missed the deadline. Well, I think that one is not possible without the other.

While our India is represented by the ‘chaotic, everything goes, any and every mistake is pardoned if you have - enough money/are from the same state/are a girl/are apologetic enough’ kinda ethos, firangland begs to differ. For one – atithi is clearly not the apple of everyone’s eye and although I had to suffer for it – I would rather learn from my mistakes and toe the line than live in an India where an Oktoberfest in its full glory, is not possible.