Somewhere Along the Way, Oktoberfest Became Mine

I know Oktoberfest is coming before I get anywhere near Theresienwiese.

For me, it starts with autumn. The light changes, stands selling roasted chestnuts begin appearing around Munich, and then one day I catch that smell drifting through the city and think, Ah, it’s that time again.

I did not grow up with Oktoberfest.

I moved to Munich in 2018 to join my husband, so at first I experienced all of this as a newcomer. I watched people who seemed to understand it without needing anything explained. The clothes, the music, the crowds, the traditions. I was curious, but I was also looking at it from the outside.

Eight years later, I recognise its arrival without really thinking about it.

One night, I was in a beer tent with friends at around eight o’clock when suddenly everyone was standing on the benches, jumping in rhythm to Bavarian music. I was trying to keep my balance, trying not to spill my beer, and laughing with complete strangers who were doing exactly the same thing.

At some point, you stop wondering what on earth is happening and just join in.

Then there are the shooting booths. I have a weakness for them.

Over the years, I have accumulated an entire family of giant stuffed animals from winning rounds, usually against my husband. Yes, I am quite pleased about that.

There is something wonderfully silly about walking home from Oktoberfest with a huge plush animal tucked under your arm.

Those are the memories that made the festival personal to me. Not one big moment when I suddenly understood it, just lots of smaller ones that became part of my life.

Living here has also changed the way I look at the traditions themselves.

From the outside, lederhosen and dirndls can look fixed, as though they have always been exactly the same. But the fashions change. A few years ago, embroidered aprons with sequins seemed to be everywhere. Now matching the apron to the dress is more fashionable, and even major designers create Oktoberfest collections.

I did not expect that when I first arrived. Something can be traditional and still keep moving with the people who wear it.

And Oktoberfest is only one part of Munich. I can spend an afternoon surrounded by art in the Pinakotheken, eat almost any cuisine I can think of, then pass a bakery where the smell of fresh pretzels immediately makes me think, Munich.

The festival matters here. It is just not the whole city.

That is probably the biggest change for me. I used to watch Oktoberfest and try to understand why it mattered so much to everyone around me. Now I have my own habits, my own favorite parts, and the things I look forward to every year.

Hosting brings the old feeling back for a moment, because I am suddenly beside someone who is seeing all of it for the first time.

I still remember being the person seeing all of this for the first time. That part has not disappeared just because Munich feels familiar now.

Maybe that is why I like sharing this time of year with guests. I know what it is like to stand there and not quite know what you are looking at yet.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped being the newcomer.