Rick Steves’ Travel Blog

 
Munich is in the midst of its annual 16 days of Oktoberfest. It’s massive (serving literally millions of people each year in 16 tents, each filled with about 8,000 people). Each of the leading local breweries has its own tent. It’s well organized (they’ve been at it annually for 200 years). And I was impressed by how easy it was for a traveler to enjoy. Here are five photos illustrating a few observations from my visit:
 
Oktoberfest would be an ideal target for terrorists, so security is tight. Each tent has its own security and a new fence has been placed around the perimeter. There is a heavy police and security presence at each entrance, and no large bags are allowed in. In spite of all this, however, it felt relaxed and fun.

With 16 temporary tents set up to accommodate over 100,000 beer drinkers at the same time, and with literally millions of liters of beer drunk, there are lots of urinals set up in the men’s rooms. And, in the saucy spirit of this festival, posters of randy girls sporting traditional dirndls are hung above, looking on and commenting on what they see.

The weather was pretty bad during our visit. But for the festival-goers, the rain didn’t dampen the fun — it just drove more of them into the giant tents.

Bavarians love their big liter-sized glass beer mugs (and so do I), but you can imagine the security concerns these days with these potential weapons. In the USA, you can’t use glass bottles in stadiums, but in Bavaria, the people insist on keeping their glass steins. I made a local friend at our table and he told me the Bavarian solution: design the handles so they break off easily if the mugs are used to hit someone and consider any attack with a big glass mug attempted murder. Consequentially, everyone gets their big glass mugs — and no one uses them as weapons.

If you head down to an early breakfast at your hotel during Oktoberfest, you’ll find yourself in an empty room. (It seems everyone was out pretty late.) And, while a nice fresh pretzel can be appealing for breakfast in Bavaria, I noticed that after eating huge pretzels the night before at the fair, they’re the last thing I crave in the morning.

I joined my film crew in Munich this year for Oktoberfest — the last festival we’re filming for our “Europe’s Top Ten Festivals” special that will air on public television in 2017. Oktoberfest goes for 16 straight days, usually starting on the third Saturday in September. Here are some thoughts and a few tips after my visit this week:

• It’s massive (serving literally millions each year in 16 tents, each filled with about 8,000 people). Each of the leading local breweries has its own tent. The famous ones (Augustiner Bräu and Hofbräu) are most crowded and touristy.

• It’s well organized (they’ve been at it annually for 200 years).

• Security is tight as this would be an ideal target for terrorist (a fence is newly added around the perimeter, there are thousands of police and security at each entrance, each tent has its own security, and no large bags are allowed). In spite of the high alert, it all felt relaxed and fun.

• Anyone can enjoy this. It’s busiest late and on weekends, but weekday afternoons and early evenings are a delight when it’s family-friendly. (I’d highly recommend enjoying it Monday through Thursday during the late afternoon and early evening; if you don’t like drunken brawls, avoid it after dark.) Popular tents do fill up and can have long waiting lines. It’s free except for your €10 beers (that’s for an entire liter), food, and rides. English works everywhere and people are friendly. It’s tradition to sit at any table that can fit an extra rear end. Jump right into the conversation with a clink of the glass mug.

• It feels local. While there are plenty of tourists, it’s estimated that 90 percent of the attendees are Bavarians. Locals love to dress up in traditional garb and gather their friends at their favorite beer tent to enjoy a fun evening meal with drinking and music.

• The famous beer maids make you think, “Who needs Hooters?”. These women are generally amateur servers who take two weeks of their generous paid vacation time to work hard here and make some serious extra money. Each tent considers them independent businesses — they buy the beer or pretzels or whatever at a wholesale price from the big kitchens, and then are free to sell them anywhere in the tent. And pricing beers at €10.50 makes it hard not to tip (if they were an even €10, I imagine earnings would take a huge hit).

I must close with a political observation. (If that will anger you, you might just stop reading now and leave today’s post with nice beer-and-dirndl thoughts.) While enjoying this happy festival, I was struck by how the crowd was 90 percent local and how I felt I was in a country with a healthy middle class. It’s fair to say that the vast majority of Germans are middle class. They live in a country where progressive taxation, a $15 minimum wage, one-month paid vacations, and affordable health care are not controversial issues. And they easily afford fun such as this. In my travels, I’ve observed that when a society’s middle class is shrinking and under siege, so is the societal well-being of that entire nation. Over all, Germany and the USA are similarly successful economically. But Germany has more people in the middle and fewer at the extremes, while America has more of the rich and far more people struggling. If I had a red hat with a political slogan to wear, it would say, “Make Our Middle Class Great Again.” And I wouldn’t buy that trickle-down stuff our big-business elites (“job creators” and their friends) keep preaching.