Originally Posted November 25, 2013
Solitude left in the wake of September. Onwards to an October for the ages. A chance encounter setting the stage for an unforgettable event; a red mark in any traveler’s calendar. But the flighty mistress of travel would not allow these memories to be simply experienced. Nein. They would have to be earned. A walk, a train, a metro, a flight, an eight hour wait, a flight, a bus, to a destination four hundred kilometers from purpose. But one could not call oneself a Traveling Gentlemen if they took this to heart. Instead, greeted was this travel challenge and met with the resolve of an optimistic smile. What are mere hours in the scope of adventure? Still closer, arrived was he in the country intended, but the location a forced circumstance. Unprepared for what was meant as a mere stopover, an evening unveiled itself in the substance of new friendships and lasting memories. The beauty of human interaction, where in a matter of minutes a relationship can be planted that would later blossom into the bonds of travel companionship. Impossible to plan for or rely upon, these chance encounters hold immense influence in hindsight when defining one’s journey. This human element, so important to the sanity of a solo traveler.
A situation made best of, our hero moved towards his goal. To a place only heard of in the legends of travelers past. A place depicted by many an imagination. A place known wholly by a single word. Oktoberfest. Swarms of Lederhosen converging on extravagantly tented halls holding traditional nectar in glass immensity. Existing was he in this living legend. Surrounded by thousands in celebration. Songs unknown, singing without care. Laughter and smiles the common language. Liquid dulling inhibition and amplifying experience. Strangers welcoming an outsider with literal open arms and open hearts as a host to country and kind. A new day, begun before the sun, experiencing the escalation of inebriation, yet memories not possibly to be undone. Although a concentrated dose of travel, these two days will live on as etchings on ones soul of the warm faces of new friends.
Again crossing country, awaiting was a parental reunion. Although unfortunate that one was held victim to work circumstance, free were mother and son to explore and experience. Immediately, they threw themselves into a hotbed of stereotypes with schnitzel and weissbier. However they could not remain. Refusing the notion of one-dimensional travel, found was the duo on a train towards a city once described as only being appreciated on two wheels. Arrived and surrounded in a photographer’s fantasy. Bikes, buildings, boats and bridges. Although another condensed voyage, the feeling of mutual happiness and enjoyment was summed up on the inerasable smile found on a mother’s face only possible while cycling in cultural serenity.
I had finally made it to Germany, but it was not terribly smooth traveling from Portugal on a budget, so there were a few forced hiccups along the way. The only flight in the vicinity of Oktoberfest had me landing in Frankfurt two days before I was meeting a pair of new friends, but even before that I was forced to experience an eight-hour midnight layover in Barcelona airport. Although, as I’m sure many of you have encountered, the airport overnight is not necessarily the most luxurious of accommodations, luckily I was kept company by the booming voice of the Old Testament god over the loudspeaker on the half hour, every hour, all through the night making announcements to keep your luggage attended in four, yes four, separate languages. Beginning at a punctual 3:30 am, this unexpected Yahweh alarm stacks up as possibly the most terrifying noises I have ever experienced in my life causing cold sweats in anticipation of the equally unsettling 4:30 and 5:30 equivalents. Needless to say, this, along with metal benches and lucking out with the one gate to sleep at that had the only 6:00 am flight, twas yet another splendid overnight airport experience. Onward and forward. More like yawnward; get it?
However this did not dull my spirits; I was extremely excited to visit Germany for the first time. I arrived in Frankfurt and was immediately greeted by a beautiful hostel and was lucky enough to meet a really cool group of people on my first night. We enjoyed some local beers while playing pool and fussball, which quickly escalated into a night on the town in some of the more seedy domestic establishments. We had a great night and it led to us spending the next day together viewing the city from the top of a skyscraper and enjoying more beers overlooking the city. It ended up being a great stopover in Frankfurt, but the main purpose of my trip was obvious. All roads lead to Oktoberfest.
To give a quick background, at the beginning of September I was staying at a hostel in Faro, Portugal while I awaited a set of keys to continue my travels. On this forced stopover the travel gods were kind to me and delivered me two roommates from Munich the month before the most infamous beer festival in the world. After we got along and I expressed my interest in experiencing Oktoberfest they were kind enough to offer me a bed at their home and to host me for a couple days. I of course accepted the offer and began planning the following weeks around this opportunity. So once I left Frankfurt I stepped off the train in Munich to two Lederhosen-clad Germans waiting on the platform. This was going to be fun. We immediately made our way to the fair grounds. Pretty simple directions for those who haven’t made the walk. Follow the hundreds of people going in the exact same direction wearing Lederhosen’s and huge smiles of excitement. After I experienced the slap in the face of sensory overload walking through the main gates we found an open tent and fought our way through the crowds to find a table. I will never forget my first proper glance of Oktoberfest. Walking through the front doors of what appears as a traditional Bavarian home, emerging into a great hall with hundreds of tables laid out in parallel, surrounded by stalls selling pretzels, Lederhosen and stein’s, tinsel and decoration cascading from the bare wood ceiling, a raised platform holding a band playing German folk music, but more than anything else, the hundreds of human beings arm in arm standing on tables and chanting in celebration with one litre glasses of beer raised above their heads. Truly a sight to behold and one that I really wanted to be a part of. We found a few empty seats and raised our glasses to the good times to be had. Prost!
After the first day warm up to the festival, the following morning began the Oktoberfest marathon. Up at 6:00, rolling out of bed into a borrowed Lederhosen and a beer being placed in my hand, a walk to the train station involving a couple pretzels and a congregation assembling, beautifully scenic ride into Munich, 7:00 stomach preparation of burgers and chips, 8:30 arrival at a tent for a 10:00 opening, still unable to find a table a panicked 10:30 run to a nearby tent, settled and sitting from 10:30 to 17:00, five litres of beer each throughout the day, periodic pretzels, cheering, chanting and dancing, 19:00 big pasta dinner, 21:00 stumbling to an after party of sorts in their hometown, and then a much needed deep sleep at an unknown hour. To say the least, quite happy with my Oktoberfest experience. Again, a big thank you to my German friends and to their parents for hosting me. It is much appreciated and I couldn’t have asked for a better time in Munich.
No time to rest after an exciting week, my parents were waiting in Dusseldorf! The train travel in Germany is beautiful and I was lucky to be able to ride across a lot of the country from Bichl to Dusseldorf. Waiting on the platform, none other than the most prettiest Momma in the whole world. Already a Dusseldorf veteran, she navigated our way to the hotel where we enjoyed some drinks and waited for Poppa. Happy to be reunited, we found a delicious schnitzel restaurant where history was made. Barbara de Vooght drank beer on her own accord…and actually liked it. She quickly whipped out her phone and requested that pictures be shared the world over on such a momentous occasion. I of course obliged and we now have evidence of my beer-drinking mother. Couldn’t be more proud.
Unfortunately my father, being extremely selfish, came to Germany for the purpose of work instead of visiting his favourite son abroad. Therefore as punishment he was forced to spend the majority of his days working the largest food show in the world being held in Cologne. This left my Mom and I the opportunity for adventure, so we looked at a map and she picked out a destination that was prominent on her wish list. Not one to turn down anything involving two wheels, we found ourselves in Amsterdam. A beautiful hotel view the perfect base camp for the amazing city at our fingertips. Hours of walking and riding through the canals, a visit to the Van Gogh museum, flower and street markets and grudgingly being forced to walk the Red Light District with your mother as she giggles and looks forward to telling her friends. But by far the highlight of our quick trip was a wonderful cycle through the city together. Amsterdam is truly a cycling haven with dedicated lanes and streetlights, a bike before car mentality and the sheer number of cyclists making motorists the minority. An incredible way to spend a day and the only true way to visit the city. Although we quickly learned that a heavy Dutch style bike and a five foot five mother is not a combination for control. But a few dodgy stop attempts being near deaths did not damper the experience. My mother summed up the day and our trip by saying she couldn’t get rid of the smile on her face the entire time. A very special voyage for the both of us.
Back to Germany where the three of us together were able to enjoy some amazing meals, delicious beer, experience overly honest cab drivers delivering us to his preferred Italian restaurant, a run in with the German national football team and a walk through of the Cologne city centre. With Dusseldorf and Cologne being so close it was great to be able to cram both cities into a short amount of time. Cologne houses an incredible cathedral, which could potentially be my favourite in all of Europe. Absolutely stunning and worthy of a trip for those who haven’t witnessed it. Sadly our trip together came to an end and we were forced to say goodbye. Thank you parents for your generosity and the multitude of memories. Give me a few more years and I’ll take you back.
Two weeks that felt like two months. Travel memories one would be lucky to spread over an extended journey compressed into two wonderful weeks. Germany in all its splendor, appreciated not only by its cultural events, but by the sheer beauty of its landscape. A Canadian appreciative of the natural scenery seen in mountains, lakes and valleys. Although so much more to see, there was a travel companion waiting on the other side of a weekend. Our Traveling Gentlemen had to return to his home away from home away from home. Portugal the meeting point, adventure the destination. Together in anticipation of the moment to come when they would stand on the shores of continent and peer across to their destiny…
Take care.
No Regrets.
Pete