So who knew that Oktoberfest had a junior sibling? Not me, that’s for sure. But with great good fortune we discovered its existence coincided with our May weekend break in Munich.
However, with the beer cruelly not being served until 4pm we needed to find something to do to keep us occupied on what was a hot and sunny day. We began with a stop at the Munich City Museum, housed in a warren of buildings, old and new, and that adopts a largely non-linear approach to the city’s history and development. There are countless exhibits and features on the Dukes and Kings of Bavaria, the city’s love of beer, its economic boom years, the Olympics and everyday life. I’m a sucker for a wooden model of a city, exhibits about long-lost grand buildings and architecture, and the museum didn’t disappoint. The fact that it was the birthplace of the National Socialist movement wasn’t ignored either.
Museum done, we walked down to the river Isar where large numbers of locals had parked themselves on its gravel beaches to bask in the sun and enjoy a lazy Sunday. The water, tumbling down from the Bavarian Alps, looked freezing and few if any dared take a dip in it.
Not far from the river lies Mariahilfplatz, a large square surrounding an imposing church and that’s also home to the Auer Dult – a fair that’s held three times a year and whose origins date back to the 14th century. The first of the year, the Maidult, happened to coincide with our visit so we stopped for a wander among its many hundreds of stalls. I’d recommend it to anyone keen on purchasing bottle brushes or crockery. In fact, I’ve never seen such a huge number of bottle brushes or such a variety of said implements in one place. All I can deduce from this is that the people of Bavaria spend an inordinate amount of time cleaning the inside of bottles and similar dusty and dirty vessels. In the spirit of the event, and feeling truly Bavarian in the process, I purchased one that will help me clean the inside of my Orrefors art glass back home. We were also diverted by a section of the market given over to antiques and spent a happy half hour nosing around.
With time ticking by we traipsed through a posh part of town that’s notable for sturdy mansions and private health clinics, and the home of Munich’s beer festivals got ever closer. En route we sheltered from the sunshine in the cool, green and shaded Old South Cemetery, founded in times of plague in the 16th century and boasting grand memorials and a talented collection of artists sketching them.
A short walk west lay Theresienwiese, a vast open space that’s the location of Oktoberfest, complete with a pompous Doric colonnade and the chipper Bavaria statue. Tucked into the northern end of the park was the Münchener Frühlingsfest, with its rollicking fairground rides, stalls, bars and reasonably sober crowds – mostly because the bars hadn’t been open long. We parked ourselves in the cavernous Augustiner Beer tent, where sturdy waitresses and waiters with beer guts the size of Luxembourg slammed 1-litre steins of said beer onto wooden benches in front of appreciative drinkers. Dirndls and lederhosen were much in evidence, worn by locals and staff, young and old, and evidence, perhaps, that some of the proud traditions of Bavaria are alive and thriving.
In the bar it was not service with a smile. This was a ruthlessly efficient operation designed to get us consuming lager as quickly as possible and in considerable quantities. The staff looked as cheerful as people who’d been told their homes had burnt down. And with the atmosphere somewhat lacking, we didn’t feel we had to return later in the evening.
Instead we went to the Paulaner Brauhaus, a 15-minute walk away from our hotel through a busy Turkish neighbourhood. With its lovely beer garden and historic brew house, the Paulaner is one of Munich’s best beer halls and huge with it. However, being a Sunday night it wasn’t exactly heaving with drinkers. We settled in the garden for food, this time served with a friendly smile, and knocked back several of their delicious beers in the bar surrounded by polished copper and rows and rows of glasses.
It’s what Munich is all about…