Oktoberfest a mind-blowing occasion

WITH nine Oktoberfest virgins I walked towards the showgrounds — the weissel, which I understand in German for meadow — with a sense of eager anticipation tinged with the trepidation for my first experience of this greatest of all beer festivals.

I hadn’t a clue what to expect, despite graphic briefings from my hosts, Gudrun Gorner and Dave Sanders representing Lufthansa and Leroy Shepard from Maritim Hotels.

They had told of acres of land, covered by gigantic marquees holding thousands of people drinking eating and singings to their heart’s content.

They were miles from the truth . . . it was a mind-boggling experience and far, far larger a spectacle than even my overactive imagination could have conjured.

Marquee? We were inside the Schottenhammer, by all accounts the original Oktoberfest tent, and there were 7,000 of us. That’s right, 7,000 people, plus hundreds of staff serving ale, roasting chickens and pigs’ knuckles, boiling potato dumplings, baking giant pretzels, not to mention staff selling whacky hats and T-shirts.

It was a maelstrom of activity and all ran with impeccable German precision.

At precisely 6pm the Oompah Band struck up and they played non-stop until 11pm, when they promptly stopped.

In between 7,000 people, ranging in age from 18 to 88, stood on tables and sang and danced and ate and then did it all again. And again. And again.

And outside, in the sprawling grounds, there were another 16 humungously big tents all housing exactly the same activities. and some of those others held up to 10,000 revellers.

Our hosts — including the bossy Vicki, an Austrian by birth, apparently, from the Munich Tourist Board — told that in the two weeks, spanning three weekends, of the Oktoberfest, 6.5 millions litres of the finest German beer had been consumed.

We were present on the last night of the 15 and my table got through it’s share, but these are litres and take some lifting, let alone supping.

Lufthansa kindly invited myself, and nine other journalists from all over the UK, to sample the delights of this extraordinary festival in order that we might pass on, through firsthand experience, our experiences to our readers. As a corporate hospitality event, it’s a way to go but what a treat. People everywhere, the majority of Germans in traditional lederhausen and Bavarian dress, and nary a spot of bother.

Just bohommie and beer. I might just go again, purely in the interests of research you understand . . .