A life of joy and beer: Oktoberfest's foam party

The windows of the plane, as usual, confuse the proportions, but do not manage to obscure the general picture, which emerges clearly and in sharp colors towards the landing. Ten shades of green, at least a similar number of blue and light blue and large and organized spots but still fringes of concrete-gray and road-black. Munich, you see long minutes before the wheels actually touch the ground of the Franz Josef Strauss Airport runways, lets nature in. The surrounding lakes emerge from time to time through the mountains, making you awkwardly congregate with your lonely Sea of Galilee.

The Yser River, for its part, starts out small and winding and grows as the passport control approaches. You read about the "flow of life in Munich on the river", browse to "Ten recommendations for water excursion routes near Munich", continue to "Getting to work by swimming" (seriously, I swear there is such an article) and conclude with a bit of history, dealing with the construction of a single bridge in 1158, over the river of course, which is also the bridge that gave birth to Munich. Water, living water, connects here to modern German infrastructure, the kind that looks askance at you when you find out where you can buy a plastic mineral bottle. Real water pride, and justified. Still, you wonder after just five minutes on the streets, could it be that everyone here lives on beer alone?

The greatness of the emperor. Kaiserslautern

הצגת פוסט זה באינסטגרם

‏‎פוסט משותף על ידי ‏‎Yaniv Granot‎‏ (@‏‎yanivgranot‎‏)‎‏

The numbers are staggering, and at some point this week - a very early stage, given that you don't go twenty minutes without refilling your giant glass of beer, a liter at least - you sensibly decide to stop recording them.

Because one restaurant here sells beer to the extent of an entire Israeli festival, and I'm fine. And one lunch here includes at least two rounds of pouring, no matter how much the locals deny the lunchtime drink. And there is nothing to talk about the dinner, mainly because there are no words that can fit between the tall glasses that fill the table.

So when the excellent people of the Paulaner Brewery, who hosted me on this work trip (I know, someone had to go on this arduous and agonizing task, there's no choice), lead the group into a huge room of copper boilers and beg you just not to touch it because it's very difficult to clean, and then pass Talk about the hectoliter and inventory management, about one location that gives the output of a small country and about pipes that maintain pressure when you have to serve hundreds of people at the same time, and take out a liter of beer in a few seconds, all that's left is to deposit the calculator in its place, and just drink some more. Cheers, and Frost!

The sun is not yet in the center of the sky, and the Beer Gardens are full. Inside them, the glasses are also full, but this is only a very temporary state of accumulation. They will immediately be emptied and refilled. So is the Viktualienmarkt, the open food market that offers countless stalls and within them countless temptations, but somehow turns all its visitors into kegs, and glasses, and beer.

It's culture, of course, and tradition, and something you grow up on, but also a true passion for craft, work, specialization and expertise. "The Bavarian honors scholarship still includes housing and economics," she describes, "and also two bottles of beer on the doorstep, every morning." Here, this beer is an integral part of your everyday life. Not a story in itself, and not a deviation from the plot line. Not the scripted focus but not a twist either. Just a foundation, a supporting pillar for life.

We are here, however, not for the everyday and the routine, but for the complete opposite of it - the Oktoberfest festival, which takes over the city (voluntarily, she devotes herself to it totally and quite understandably) every year for a little more than two weeks, from mid-September until the first Sunday of October , although this is also a bit flexible (this year, for example, it started on September 21 and will end on October 6).

Its roots are known, and go far and deep, to 1810, and the celebrations of the marriage of Ludwig, Prince of Bavaria and Theresa, Princess of Saxe-Hildburghausen. The desire to preserve this mass joy and the connection between the aristocracy and the people, led to the festive tradition, and today in "Teresa Field" in the heart of the city millions of people gather, in what has become over the years the largest festival in the world.

A huge celebration. Oktoberfest

The entrance (free, you pay separately at each booth) to the complex is, as expected, the opposite of what the Israeli leader is preparing for, certainly these days. Many streets drain into the open urban park, bringing in a consistent and amazing flow of people from opening time (10:00 am on weekdays, an hour earlier on weekends) until closing (11:30 pm to midnight). This mass is filtered by hundreds of security personnel, who only stop you to check the contents of bags (small, backpacks are prohibited).

From there, you are swept away at once into a celebration of sounds and colors, beer and food, smiles and dancing - a daughter of countless centers of energy and happening. The scope is unfathomably large. You walk on one of the streets of the festival, try to draw a logical outline of a review and entertainment, and understand within minutes. No, in seconds, there's no point in planning. It's huge, it conquers, and you have to allow it to be huge and allow it to conquer you.

The logistical preparations for the establishment of this happy monster take many months, and their core is huge amusement facilities, and even bigger beer tents, which the nickname "tent" almost mocks in an upside-down way, because in reality it is a ballroom on a monumental scale, a club of friends, a mass bar, and at a grandiose foam party. Beer foam, yes?

Paulaner, one of the cornerstones of Munich and undoubtedly one of its commercial-social pillars (including a strong connection to Bayern Munich of course, on Daniel Peretz and Noa Kirel and all that is implied) is the focus of the festival, along with five other local breweries that hold the Bavarian certificate that allows them to enter and operate .

The yellow tent conducts two rounds of resettlement and only when you go inside do you realize that there is no interest in the logistics of style Tel Aviv orders here. Thousands of long tables occupy the tent on at least two levels, and each of them is packed - with people, glasses (a special and focused Oktoberfest beer is served here, a little complex in its taste and wonderful as a companion), plates of food, signs of boots that danced themselves to know.

A celebration inside, and a celebration outside. The illuminated facilities immediately take you back to childhood, and to better days of carefree enjoyment. That is, unless you're one of those people who worry about roller coasters, demon rides, or just modern horror-inspired installations, smilingly imploring you to put on a harness, fasten your seat belt, and put your phone in a safe place.

All around them, a feast of street food in all its configurations and formats, in quantities and offerings that compel you to experiment, taste and move on. It's a problem when you have no desire to throw away half dishes, and a very big problem when you realize that you've managed to cover up to now about 2.4% of the festival's delicious options, and your stomach is already exploding.

There is the obvious here - German hits in the form of various sausages, sandwiches with smoked mackerel, chicken that is broken up in every possible direction and thick soups - and there is also a long list of surprises, flashes, fiddling with fingers and hands and eating while walking, to the next thing. It's the best binge you can do, Netflix included.

A whole salmon, for example, which is placed in front of one stand and waits to be ordered seconds after roasting in the oven. A swift movement of tongs tears off meaty "flakes" from it that are inserted into a fresh bun with pickles and aioli, and here is one of the best sandwiches you can put together. Simple but perfect.

And chips too, in droves. Fresh and hot. French fries and a local version of potato chips, corn cobs that are grated on the spot into huge bowls, countless peanuts and nuts coated in sugar and cinnamon, dark chocolate, small donuts that unknowingly combine Greek locomods and Moroccan sponges, and a glut of desserts from Eastern Europe, from nearby Austria, and from Germany as well.

It has strudels with a variety of fillings, sweet French toast, a pancake-fruity Kaiserschmann and the real thing, which is a gramknodel on the spot, inside spicy and hot plums, and outside a thick blanket of delicate vanilla cream. A huge portion, which also drew the only angry expression I received in the complex, from the owner of the house who couldn't understand how I didn't finish everything on the plate.

According to the Paulaners, you can enter Oktoberfest alone, and end the evening cuddled up with your new best friends. It is evident all around, in the tent and outside. It's hard to compare, almost ridiculous to compare, but your head races back to Israel every minute anyway because of the news headlines, and you wonder regularly and methodically how something like this would look, and feel, blue-and-white.

The answer is that there is no point in the answer, and there is absolutely no point in the question. Here everyone drinks, and somehow only a few end the evening dizzy, drunk, in need of help. They receive it from the thousands of employees of the place, and everyone else goes about their business, continues to be happy. It's impossible here, and it's contagious.

Munich itself is considered the most expensive city in Germany, and presents double rates than Berlin, for example, in rent and living and an average shopping basket in the supermarket. She allows herself to be like that because everything here is sweet and businesslike and prosperous, but also true to its scale. "In this place, time is counted in days and weeks, not hours and minutes", defined this mindset Shmarit, wanting to say that here the lifestyle is built-in, and with it the style, and the lifestyle in their own right.

She shows us the magnificent city hall, and points to the Israeli flag flying in front next to the Ukrainian flag. Proud, self-confident, and leaning on local sympathetic spirits. The next day, and not far from here, people will line up again as early as six in the morning to take a place before the festival gates open, and you begin to identify with this act, and connect it to the event, and to the city itself.

The people of Munich say that you will never understand what happens at Oktoberfest until you experience it. After you have experienced, you must return.