Oktoberfest, Bavaria’s renowned beer-filled celebration, spans 225 joyous hours. Yet, for a crucial 222 of those hours, the golden brew is readily available. The initial three, however, are a different story.
These opening three hours are characterized by cola, pretzels, and lively card games, all set against a backdrop of buzzing anticipation—akin to Christmas Eve, but with the promise of frothy beer instead of presents.
Thousands converge on Munich for the 190th annual Oktoberfest, running until October 5th. Only dedicated revelers, however, truly embrace the unique blend of joy and mild torment that comes with this early wait for the festival’s main event.
Sibille Bauer, a 32-year-old server at the Hacker-Pschorr brewery tent, observed the scene around 10 a.m. on Saturday. ‘It’s a little bit strange now,’ she commented, looking at a tent packed with men in traditional lederhosen and women in dirndls, all patiently waiting without a single beer in sight.
In just two short hours, Ms. Bauer explained, she’d be navigating the crowded orange wooden tables around the central bandstand, delivering liters of golden “festbiers” — each costing approximately $18. For now, her main task was politely turning away eager latecomers desperate for a prime spot.
But with a knowing smile, she confirmed, ‘After 12 o’clock, the beer is coming.’
Festival gates traditionally swing open at 9 a.m. on weekends. However, the official tapping of the first ceremonial keg by Munich’s mayor isn’t until noon, marking the precise moment alcoholic beer can finally be served.
Securing a coveted reservation in one of Oktoberfest’s legendary beer tents, where brass bands set the vibrant mood, is a challenge for most. Yet, many seats are available on a first-come, first-served basis. This prompts an early morning sprint for patrons, often after an overnight camp-out, to claim their spot as soon as the gates open.
Thus, the morning crowd from 9 a.m. to noon is a fascinating mix of exhilaration and exhaustion, powered by energy drinks and a collective eagerness for the first taste of beer.
To pass the time, groups play popular card games like Uno or Kniffel, a German version of Yahtzee. Vendors wander the aisles, selling giant pretzels and commemorative pins, while friends reconnect and new friendships blossom.
Laura Melz, 31, from Cologne, Germany, found herself in the Hacker-Pschorr tent just before 10 a.m. Her hair, disheveled from the dash through security, was being re-braided by a friend. Sweating but beaming, Ms. Melz felt fortunate to have been invited by a group of Canadians to share their table.
Her smile was a mix of adrenaline and perhaps a residual fizz from the Prosecco her friends enjoyed while waiting in line. Once the beer arrived, she anticipated singing, dancing on tables, and, of course, ample drinking.
‘We are not too sober’ at the moment, she admitted. ‘But at 12, we will be sober’ – at least for a fleeting moment.
In the bustling Schottenhammel tent, a favorite among younger Germans, 18-year-old Anton Frank of Munich (currently interning in Austria) relaxed with 30 friends across three tables. He planned to consume three to five liters of beer post-noon, possibly supplemented by wine or bubbly. Last year, he attended Oktoberfest for 14 of the 16 days, often after classes ended, and once downed a remarkable eight liters of beer in one go – equivalent to four large American soda bottles.
‘I’ll never do that again,’ he quipped, citing the cost.
Across the tent, another 18-year-old from Munich, Giorgi Mtchedlishvili, sipped cola and played cards. He had secured a prime early spot in the security line, then shrewdly sold his position to other eager revelers, pocketing 300 euros.
‘I’ll definitely be buying a round for my friends,’ he declared.
Outside, a majestic parade of horses wound through the festival grounds, proudly hauling barrels of beer. Shortly after 11 a.m., a wave of applause and stomping erupted in the Schottenhammel tent as the procession arrived. Then, just moments before noon, Mayor Dieter Reiter, with a brass faucet in hand, ceremoniously tapped the first keg with a wooden mallet.
A text to Mr. Mtchedlishvili just after 3 p.m. asked about his experience.
‘I am 3 beers in,’ he promptly responded.