Imagine Oktoberfest – the world-famous Bavarian celebration – spanning 225 joyous hours. For all but three of those, glorious beer flows freely. But what happens during those crucial first three?
Those initial hours are a fascinating contrast: a non-alcoholic zone filled with cola, savory pretzels, and spirited card games. The air crackles with an anticipation reminiscent of Christmas Eve, if Christmas morning’s biggest gift was a refreshing malt beverage.
Munich is bracing for thousands of eager revelers to join the 190th Oktoberfest, running until October 5th. Yet, only a dedicated few truly embrace the unique blend of joy and mild agony that defines this initial waiting period before the main event kicks off.
Sibille Bauer, a 32-year-old server at the bustling Hacker-Pschorr brewery tent, commented on the peculiar atmosphere on Saturday morning. It was just after 10 a.m., and the pavilion was already brimming with visitors in traditional lederhosen and dirndls – yet, remarkably, not a single drop of alcohol was being consumed.
Time-honored board games like backgammon are a popular way to fill the pre-beer void.
In just two short hours, Ms. Bauer explained, her arms would be laden with brimming liter steins of amber “festbiers,” destined for the vibrant wooden tables encircling the central bandstand. Each glass, a hefty $18. For now, her main task was politely turning away hopeful latecomers, all desperately seeking a precious seat.
But, a knowing smile played on her lips as she added, “After 12 o’clock, the beer is coming!”
On weekends, including the inaugural Saturday, the festival gates swing open at 9 a.m. However, the true kickoff – the ceremonial tapping of the first keg by Munich’s mayor – doesn’t happen until noon. Only then do servers begin pouring the much-anticipated alcoholic brews.
Securing a coveted reservation in one of Oktoberfest’s iconic beer tents, where brass bands fill the air with joyous music, is a near-impossible feat for most. Consequently, many seats are offered on a first-come, first-served basis. This leads to a mad dash immediately after the gates open, with some dedicated patrons even camping overnight to guarantee their spot.
Watch as the gates burst open on Saturday, unleashing a torrent of eager attendees sprinting to secure their prime seating within the festival tents.
From 9 a.m. to noon on opening Saturday, the tent crowds become a vibrant, bubbling mix of raw excitement and sheer exhaustion. They’re powered by energy drinks, their patience wearing thin, all while eagerly awaiting the moment alcohol can finally be served.
To combat the wait, patrons engage in lively card games like Uno or Kniffel (Germany’s answer to Yahtzee) at their tables. Vendors weave through the temporarily quiet aisles, selling massive pretzels and festive lapel pins. It’s a time for catching up with old friends and forging new connections.
Laura Melz, 31, from Cologne, Germany, found herself inside the historic Hacker-Pschorr beer tent just before 10 a.m. Her friend was rebraiding her hair, a casualty of her sprint through the security line. Sweating but beaming, Ms. Melz felt a surge of luck: her group had been invited to share a table with a friendly trio of Canadians.
Her smile, she admitted, was a mix of adrenaline and the Prosecco her friends had enjoyed in line. Once the beer starts flowing, she anticipated, they’d be singing heartily, dancing on the tables, and of course, drinking to their hearts’ content.
“We’re not exactly sober now,” she chuckled, “but at 12, we’ll be sober” – at least for a fleeting moment.
A friend helps Laura Melz rebraid her hair, a small act of composure amidst the pre-Oktoberfest frenzy.
Over in the Schottenhammel tent, a hotspot for younger Germans, Anton Frank, 18, from Munich (currently interning in Austria), was enjoying the pre-fest calm with 30 friends across three tables. He planned to consume three to five liters of beer after noon, possibly switching to bubbly later. Last year, he was at Oktoberfest for 14 out of 16 days, once drinking a staggering eight liters – the equivalent of four large American soda bottles – in one go.
“I’ll never do that again,” he declared, citing the considerable cost.
Across the tent, Giorgi Mtchedlishvili, also 18 and from Munich, was strategically enjoying colas and card games. Having snagged an excellent spot early in the security line, he ingeniously profited by selling his prime position to other eager young attendees, earning a tidy 300 euros.
“I’ll use that to buy a round for my friends,” he announced proudly.
Outside the tents, a grand procession of horses paraded through the grounds, laden with barrels of the forthcoming beer. Shortly after 11 a.m., the Schottenhammel tent erupted in cheers and rhythmic stomping as the parade drew near. Then, just before noon, Mayor Dieter Reiter approached the towering keg, confidently wielded a brass faucet, and, with a swift strike of a wooden mallet, officially tapped the first barrel.
A few hours later, around 3 p.m., I checked in with Mr. Mtchedlishvili to see how his Oktoberfest experience was unfolding.
His succinct reply? “I am 3 beers in.”