Prost!

Immediately after Oktoberfest '08 it was decided: we would book our trip to Oktoberfest '09. We just might go ahead and do 2010-2020 while we're at it.

We arrived with Maya and Tunji on thursday night, checked into the hotel, and immediately migrated, or maybe pilgrimaged is more appropriate, to the festivities. The brisk air provided a welcome change to the mild Barcelona fall. But Oktoberfest- what a sight! Full steins of beer, footlong bratwursts, and carnival rides as far as the eye could see. It was like kids in a candy store. Or like young adults in a brewery. A big brewery. Except all the men were wearing lederhosen, and the women durndels. We almost sprung for the traditional outfits, but managed to resist.

It was clear, though, that most of the main action at the Fest took place in the tents, which each serve their own brand of beer and hold up to 6000 people. We showed up too late to get into one on thursday, but we watched jealously from the (now rainy) outside as thousands of revelers toasted every few minutes and sung songs. We knew we had to do whatever it took to get in.

Turns out what it takes is a very early morning. After meeting our good friends Luke and Nick, fresh in from Madrid, and Tim and Aaron who arrived late thursday night, we packed it in for an early rise the next morning. At 8 am we left for the fairgrounds, but on our commute we realized that we might have been too late yet again, as the subway and tunnel to the tents were already packed. We tried to get into one of the more popular tents, the Schotten-something, but no luck. At the last second, we found that the Lowenbrau tent had spots still open, and we just made it in before the doors closed.

We settled in very nicely, even making friends with the German group at the table next to us. We learned some German drinking songs, undoubtedly heavy with profanity that we didn't understand, and, of course, sampled the local Lowenbrau beer. Unfortunately, though, we had unknowingly sat at the "reserved" tables, which were the only ones left when we came in. We made a valiant effort at hiding and defacing the paper reservation put on our table, and almost got ourselves kicked out in the process. Eventually the waiters won, though, and we all became one of the dreaded "table nomads", wandering from table to table with our steins, looking for a friendly face and anywhere we could squeeze in. Nomad life is understandably tiring though, and we left in the early afternoon, somewhat discouraged. The day was not completely lost though- we sampled our first German wheat beer.

We vowed the same would not happen on our remaining day, and thus were up and at 'em 6 am Saturday morning. The line for the Haufbrahaus was already significant, but we were finally able to get a non-reserved table, though a few of us were effectively suffocated by the hordes pushing through to the tent doors. We finally experienced the true Oktoberfest day in the Haufbrahaus- the place erupted when the band came on stage. They played for hours, and surprisingly, most of the songs were in English. Crowd favorites included John Denver's Country Road, New York New York, Won't You Be My Girl, and an acapella version of Seven Nation Army. We left that evening satisfied, and hoping we could some day return.

This weekend, we are off to Morocco, which is sure to be yet another adventure. Stay tuned.