Waking up super early was somehow more bearable even after a minute amount of sleep when a day at Oktoberfest awaits. Joining the unbelievable masses all heading in the same direction and majority dressed in costume (which looked ridiculous. Something about laderhosen and 6.30am screams hilarity). While definitely chillier than France, walking across the bridge in Munich with the rising sun streaming across the city was beyond amazing. We walked under the historic Oktoberfest signs and arrived while almost everything was still shut.
It looked bizarre to see everything shut but thousands of people lined up outside the beer tents waiting for their 7am, 1L jug. We joined the queue which was extremely orderly and efficient as we were constabtly shuffled into a better line formation (Germans are officially the most organised people on the planet, how is France so close yet so different?)
They finally put the army and police personnel to use as they opened the gates and let us through in groups. The beer tent is really an extremely gigantic hall (like NZ halls on steroids) with a band playing music in the centre and women in traditional dress stomping round with 5 jugs of 1L beer in each hand (I'm assuming there was 6 month training involved before you can become one of these people. Training involving day-long push ups).
We all ordered an oktoberfestbier jug (the women waitresses come to you, you never have to leave your seat, both brilliant but also dangerous when you're sitting for extended periods of time drinking copious amounts of beer). We also got some pretzels, bratwursts and numerous other traditional types of German food, some of which I have no idea what was in them (either that or I forgot..)
We sat next to some friendly Italians who offered to share what they went to great efforts to smuggle in... cheese, and also learnt that language barriers become significantly less of a problem when beer is involved.
After a couple of hours (or so, time flies, or rather disappears) of chanting, singing, stamping on the table and cheering on people who were skulling full jugs of beer (really. It actually happened) we got kicked out of our seats and kindly asked to leave.
Despite it being crazily hot outside we managed to stay awake (and upright) and went on some rides (which I am proud to announce involved ZERO vomit, though one unmentioned person chose to sit it out...) as well as ice creams, waffles and bratwurst burgers.
The crowds were insane, the heat was intense and the beer was big. After what felt like days inside the festival we headed home, past a garden full of coma'd people (and hoards who didn't make it there lining the footpath) and made it back to our hostel just in time to collapse on our beds and fall asleep. We woke up hours later, dazed and confused (but not like the movie) and with grumbling stomachs headed out for dinner at a traditional German restaurant which we later found out was Croatian. But hey, we tried.
The following day was spent exploring the beautiful city of Munich, eating lots of McDonalds (who's McFlurries are significantly cheaper than Paris' dammit), loaded up on lollies from a funky German store with an overly friendly man on the checkout.
We boarded the bus and after hours of drunken Sciences-Po leaders trying to count how many people were on two buses so as to not leave anyone behind, we were off. (Only one person got left behind, not a bad acheivement apparently.) Scoring some half decent seats (unlike on the way there where we were at the very back and couldn't even move, hence my ankles swelling to an inhuman size, bigger than I have ever experienced, even on 30 hour plane journey's. They actually didn't fit in my shoes and it hurt to walk. I think its a condition.) However we managed to have a reasonable sleep back and only stopped once unexpectantly (unfortunately, when one guy on our bus had a seizure. We were woken at around 3am when a SP leader shouted for someone who knew first aid, to which someone, presumably tired and cranky, yelled "we're Sciences-Po students!", insinuating that no one knows anything remotely related to first aid as Sciences-Po is only for political science. This response was not met welcomingly by a tired, still-drunk and stressed leader.)
Arriving back at 6am in Paris, the streets as empty as I've ever seen them, it felt good to be home.
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