Guest Writer: Ken Kane

Ken is traveling with us from Budapest to Antwerp. He is an integral part of our Beer Tour 2006 and a great friend. Ken has a background in media, so his writings should be a little more polished than mine.

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Journal Entry #4

Sept. 22 – Munich Hauptbahnhof, boarding a train for Belgium …

I came. I drank. I didn't buy the t-shirt.

You know the one – it's available all over Munich : “I survived Oktoberfest 2006.” I opted for a hat instead, but indeed, I survived.

All seven of us beer buddies did, though most of us battled the dreaded 3Fs : farts, fatigue and flem.

[Cut me a little poetic license, will ya? I know it's spelled “phlegm” – damn, if that ain't a German word, I don't know what is. For all I know, “Phlegmplatz” could be a gathering spot on the Oktoberfest grounds. A place where some over-indulging revelers leave behind a few souvenirs of their own!]

So, what to make of the world's largest frat party? Here are some observations as I check one of those “must-dos” off of my lifelist:

Quantity over quality. There are surprisingly few Oktoberfest-style beers available at Oktoberfest. It's mostly standard-issue German lager, a.k.a. “yellow fizzy.”

The emphasis is on mass-consumption, achieved not coincidentally through the one-litre glass stein called a mass. Try as I might – and after the first yellow fizzy mass of the night I must say I didn't try too hard – I couldn't hold up my end in the drinking derby. But my inability to do so meant I was able to hold up my head at the end of the night. (Well, maybe not Monday.)

Bavarians are fun seekers who like to play dress-up. I think the residents of Munich and pre-Katrina New Orleans are kindred spirits. (Though Val and Eric are far more adept at making that comparison than I.) It's apparent that Bavarians – or at least the ones who attend Oktoberfest – have a near-insatiable appetite for yellow fizzy, rotisserie chicken ( so much more tasty than the ones at the Safeway deli!), pretzels (yes, Eric's loaf-of-bread ones) and for wearing their boob-winching dirndls and fancy-pants lederhosen.

There's more to Oktoberfest than beer tents. No, really. It's got a real state fair atmosphere (the State of Inebriation ?) with roller coasters and Ferris wheels. There's a midway where you knock over mini-kegs instead of milk cans with a softball and the Haunted House is called the Geist Schloss (ghost castle). I swear I think I saw the guy who wears the wrap-around microphone selling the German equivalent of Ginsu knives!

Goofy hats are all the rage. Of course, goofiness is in the eye of the beer-holder. For a Munchener in lederhosen, a Matterhorn-shaped felt hat sprouting a paintbrush is high fashion. And who am I to question? … in my Leo the Lowenbrau cap complete with paws and tail in traditional Bavarian blue and white diamonds.

Oktoberfest locals are very … uh, friendly. I couldn't walk the two blocks from the grounds back to our hostel without getting … uh, invited out for a good time. Usually by someone wearing the fancy pants rather than the boob winch. This, as much as the tepid yellow fizzy, proved to be a sobering experience!

And finally, thankfully …

There's more to Munich than Oktoberfest. I'm actually pleased that I managed to spend more time exploring the city than I did carrousing the beer tents. Munich is a lovely, cosmopolitan place with great parks, a top-notch technology museum and another museum solely for BMWs.

And Marienplatz ( Munich 's living room) features wonderful things from clocks to churches to restaurants to the most impressive street entertainer I've ever heard. I mean, how many guys have you seen spinning out the best of Mozart and Beethoven on a baby grand for spare change?

Sort of makes the silver-painted robotic guy in Portland 's Pioneerplatz pale in comparison, don't ya know!