Oktoberfest, Munich’s iconic Bavarian celebration, spans 225 vibrant hours. But out of all that time, only three brief hours are entirely devoid of its signature brew.
Those initial three hours are a curious mix: a sea of cola, mountains of pretzels, and spirited card games. The air buzzes with an almost childlike anticipation, much like Christmas Eve, but instead of presents, everyone is waiting for the arrival of the beloved malt beverage.
Thousands flock to Munich for the 190th Oktoberfest, which concludes on October 5th. Yet, only a dedicated few truly immerse themselves in the unique blend of joy and mild agony that defines these pre-beer moments, eagerly awaiting the festival’s star attraction.
“It’s a little bit strange right now,” commented Sibille Bauer, a 32-year-old server at the Hacker-Pschorr brewery tent, on Saturday morning. At just past 10 a.m., she observed the bustling pavilion, filled shoulder-to-shoulder with men in traditional lederhosen and women in Bavarian dresses, all patiently waiting, completely sober.
A delightful video captures attendees engaging in a friendly game of backgammon, a perfect way to pass the time during the non-alcoholic opening hours.
Ms. Bauer anticipated that in just two hours, her arms would be laden with steins, delivering liters of golden “festbiers” to the vibrant orange, wooden tables surrounding the central bandstand. Each glass would fetch around $18. For now, her main task was politely turning away eager latecomers desperate for a prime spot.
With a knowing smile, she declared, “But after 12 o’clock, the beer is coming.”
On weekends, including the traditional Saturday opening, the festival gates swing open at 9 a.m. However, the official start—and the pouring of alcoholic beer—doesn’t begin until noon, when the Mayor of Munich ceremonially taps the first keg.
Securing a reservation in Oktoberfest’s renowned beer tents, the vibrant heart of the festival with its live brass bands, is notoriously difficult. Consequently, many seats are offered on a first-come, first-served basis, prompting eager festival-goers to sprint for a spot as soon as the gates open, often after enduring an overnight campout.
Another captivating video shows the exhilarating moment the Oktoberfest gates burst open on Saturday, with enthusiastic crowds sprinting to secure highly sought-after tables.
This creates a unique atmosphere within the tents between 9 a.m. and noon on opening Saturday: a lively mix of excitement and exhaustion, powered by energy drinks and a collective thirst for the first alcoholic pour.
To pass the time, tables are abuzz with card games like Uno or Kniffel, a German variation of Yahtzee. Vendors weave through the yet-to-be-crowded aisles, selling giant pretzels and commemorative lapel pins. It’s a time for friends to reconnect and for new friendships to blossom amidst the shared anticipation.
Laura Melz, 31, from Cologne, Germany, was spotted in the Hacker-Pschorr tent just before 10 a.m., her hair being re-braided by a friend after the frantic dash from the security line. Sweating but beaming with luck, she recounted how her group had been invited to share a table with a friendly Canadian trio.
Her smile, she explained, was a mix of adrenaline and the Prosecco shared with friends in line. She looked forward to singing, dancing on tables, and, of course, drinking once the beer began to flow.
Admitting, “We are not too sober” at the moment, she quickly added, “But at 12, we will be sober” — if only for a fleeting moment.
A visual snippet captures Laura Melz getting her hair re-braided by a friend, a common sight as attendees recover from the morning rush.
In the bustling Schottenhammel tent, a favorite among young Germans, 18-year-old Anton Frank from Munich was unwinding with 30 friends across three tables. Currently interning in Austria, he planned to consume three to five liters of beer after noon, possibly followed by some bubbly. Last year, he frequented Oktoberfest for 14 out of 16 days, often downing up to eight liters in one go—the equivalent of four large American soda bottles.
“I’ll never do that again,” he vowed, citing the cost.
Across the tent, Giorgi Mtchedlishvili, also 18 and from Munich, enjoyed colas and cards. He had cleverly secured an early spot in the security line, then profited by letting others cut in, earning a tidy sum of 300 euros.
“I’ll buy a round for my friends,” he declared generously.
Outside the tents, a grand parade of horses, pulling beer barrels, slowly made its way through the festival grounds. Shortly after 11 a.m., the Schottenhammel crowd erupted in cheers and stomps as the parade passed. Then, just moments before noon, Mayor Dieter Reiter approached the keg, wielded a brass faucet, and expertly tapped it open with a wooden mallet, signaling the start.
A text to Mr. Mtchedlishvili just after 3 p.m., inquiring about his fun, received a swift reply.
“I am 3 beers in,” he messaged back, fully immersed in the festivities.