A Fest in Oktober

I had found that there was going to be an Oktoberfest in Palzem/Kreuzweiler, Germany (just a town or so over from where we were staying in Perl, Germany) on Saturday night. I have never been to an Oktoberfest, and as appealing as the thought might be to try and catch the extremely well known Munich Oktoberfest, I am really not into crowds and public drunkenness so I think that one is off the list. (Side note, we actually had the opportunity to go on this trip, but for the above stated reasons as well as the substantial expense, we decided to pass. No regrets.) That means, that I was really excited about the prospect of taking in a genuine local fest.

The Internet is fantastic and that is where I had found info on fests near us. My one complaint was that the well published info (telling date and giving a good schedule) didn’t actually tell the time or location within town where the fest would take place. This was a little concerning. We rolled through town early (9am) in hopes of finding evidence but didn’t have any luck. We went about our day and then decided to take a chance and come back around dinner time – 6-6:30pm. [We had heard excellent things from our friends here about fest food and were excited to experience it.]


On the edge of town, in the field next to the church, we saw tents erected that hadn’t been there earlier, so we were encouraged. We noticed, however, that there wasn’t any activity or cars parked in the roped off area. This is when D said that I needed to go and ask the pertinent info that we needed and couldn’t find. After pumping myself up (chants of “you can do it, you can do it” as well as trying to formulate how to ask the questions) I ventured over to what turned out to be the kitchen tent and studied the poster on the door (gave a time for the start the night before, but nothing for Saturday – meaning I still had to ask someone, darn.) So, I gathering my courage I politely interrupted their bretzel-making (no typo, Brezel is the German for those fantastic big soft pretzels that are NEVER as good in the US) and asked the obvious: “so, is this where the Oktoberfest I read about online is going to be?” Answer, “yes.” Question:
“So does it start at 8pm like the sign says it started last night?” Answer, “yes.” Question: “So we should just come back then…” “yes” I got the info needed but did feel a bit stupid. It was clear that they were not anticipating (or trying to draw) the tourist crowd. The important thing is that we got our needed intel and knew that we had 2 hours to kill. So, we had noticed a sign in Mettlach earlier (this was where we enjoyed the Villeroy and Boch outlet) that had a “fest” there at 7pm, a fall fest. Off to Mettlach we went to kill some time and enjoy as much fall celebration as the area could offer.

Again, German signage is fantastic for roads, but not good for giving important fest information. We went back and knew what time the fest was and that it was at the local gym – but we had not idea where the local gym was! We went to town hall because we had remembered that there was a map on the door. Strike one – it didn’t have the “Sporthalle” on there. It was dead quiet, but then a man with a grocery bag walked by. I naturally accosted him and asked if he could direct us to the gym. Strike two – he was from eastern Europe and spoke only English (noooo problem there) but didn’t know where anything was. Then, just as we were feeling hopeless, a Mercedes pulled up and an older couple exited their home right next to city hall (attached to it, like a row house – how weird would that be?) As casually as I could, I rushed over and asked them for directions. Home run! They gave us directions and off we went.

It was a bit of an adventure finding it, but we triumphed and found the gym. It was packed and we seemed to walk right into a uniformed contingent – strange. We skirted around them and walked in the main hall. It was filled with people and tables and all were facing a stage with what looked to be a set up for a large band or orchestra. Curiously we looked around for clues as to what was going on: there was a program by another door and being the brave German speaker that I am, I sent D to go and get it. So, it turns out that we had stumbled upon a fall concert of the local orchestra. It was free (which was surprising since nothing is free) so we decided to hang out for a bit. It was remarkably good, although we had to chuckle when they played Whitney Houston’s “The Greatest Love of All” and again when the encore was Queen’s “We Will Rock You.” Ah, there is nothing so fun in life as “We will Rock you” with a German accent.

After the encore, another group (there were 3 bands in total performing in the concert) switched with our youth orchestra. D and I had decided that we had had enough culture and made a swift exit and drove back to Kreuzweiler, the location of our Oktoberfest.

Upon arrival, we were about the 30 and 31st persons in attendance, so there was no problem getting a seat (we WERE very early, the fest had only been going on for about 30 minutes.) There was a very reasonable entry fee and the drink cards (necessary for buying any drinks at all – no cash at the bar) were refundable at the end of the night if we didn’t purchase all the drinks possible. We were so hungry, but I had to use the restroom first – I knew that it was going to be clean and I am particular about my WCs. Later in the night would be a different matter, so I wanted to use it early. I digress.
I was on my way back to the kitchen tent (I knew well were it was since I had bothered them earlier for information) to get D and I some bratwurst rolls (which is a delicious German brat in a short but delicious German roll –yummy) when I saw a huge plate full of food that I KNEW D would want. I did an about-face and went back to get him. I told him that I saw what he would want. When we spied the plate on the way back to the kitchen, D’s salivation became evident and I knew I had been right. D got a Haxen mit sauerkraut und pueree which, in English is a leg of pork (slow roasted and very tender) with a pile of sauerkraut and mashed potatoes. The food was fantastic! I ate my brat (we were off the veggie bandwagon today, just no veggie options - we weren’t all that disappointed about it) and then we both shared D’s plate of gloriousness and drank a beer to wash it all down.

Now, as my Oktoberfest expert informed me, beer at the northern German fests is all Pils, which is a “Pilsner”, a light colored beer resulting from lightly toasted malt. I do not particularly like Pils beers – they are light but generally bitter or sharp tasting, and I prefer the darker beers that are sweeter, richer and with more character. (Not Guinness, that is a class all in itself – that is a meal, not a beer.) So, since we were technically in northern Germany, when I tried to order a dark beer, they gave me a non-alcoholic root-beer like substance. You can imagine the surprise on my face when I tasted it. A precious moment. I liked it, but was a touch disappointed that they didn’t have any dark beer. We soaked in the environment and enjoyed our food. We were there early enough to catch the committee up front thanking everyone for making it possible and then even benefited (this is why it pays to go early) from a free glass of beer so that everyone in the hall could toast and sing a good round of Ein Prosit (A Toast) which made my heart go soft and sentimental. I remember learning German drinking songs in College – when the regular (responsible) German professor was out of town, the Dean, who used to be a German teacher before going into management, would sub and he would teach us drinking songs. Sadly, I still remember them. Left an impression I guess. Finally got to put them to good use. But, and I hate to say this, the beer in Belgium is soooo much better. I never would have thought I would abandon my Teutonic friends in their beer tradition, but the Belgian beers seem to suit my taste better. Again our Oktoberfest pro said that I would prefer the fests down south.


The band was really really good – naturally dressed in traditional tracht which for the men is lederhosen with wool socks and linen shirts. (We did catch one guy cheating – he had on these bizarre wool leg warmers that looked right – if you were drunk or didn’t look closely. But to be fair, this guy wasn’t in the band, he was just dressed up for the fest.) The thing that surprised me about the band was that they sang a fairly untraditional set – I heard them sing songs in Italian and Spanish in addition to German. The Spanish one was the funniest, because the tuba was just so German and the song was so Spanish. The tuba player was good and fantastic to watch, but it seemed surreal at times. My favorite, though, was when they sang the Statler Brothers song, “Hello Mary Lou” in German. I knew the chorus, but not the verses. Ahh, all those years of watching “Hee-Haw” finally came in handy. D, naturally didn’t know what I was talking about, but I was thrilled to pick out the American music for the second time in the evening.

We were amazed at what a family atmosphere it was - there were plenty of children running around, and after a bit, the teenagers all filed in – so the whole family was there. There was this one 2 year old that was in the traditional dress running around and he was so cute. I tried to get a pic, but he just wouldn’t hold still for long enough. Very very sweet. We didn’t stay for too long – we had to drive to the hotel, and although not far away, we are lightweights and can’t drink more than a 1 for me or 2 for D. So, we made our way to the front again and I decided that I wanted to purchase our mugs – this is likely the closest I am going to get to a real Oktoberfest and I wanted the cup to prove it. So, I asked about purchasing it while getting my refund for the card, and she did what I had hoped, which was to take the card, give me the glasses and call it square. A good deal for both and I was happy to take my glasses home. Now, the real trick is that I need to get them back to the US without breaking them. What a fun night.