On the Piss in Bavaria - Part 3

Do not attempt to read this post without having read Part 1 and Part 2, or you will not understand a fucking thing.

Nature called way too early the following morning. The bloody cunt couldn't have waited another hour, could she? After attending the call (and opening the windows, I hope the cleaning lady was provided with a gas mask), I tried to go back to sleep, without success. I wouldn't say I had a hangover proper, I felt rather as if my stomach was still trying to figure out what to do with the previous night's dinner.

It was still too early to go down for breakfast, not that I was hungry, actually. I turned on the telly to help me pass the time, but without expecting much, and can't say I was disappointed.

I don't think German TV is a lot of fun even when you understand the language, so you can imagine what it is like when you don't. But I found CNN, and it made me wish I didn't understand English. Their coverage of the missing Malaysian plane was incredibly pathetic; it can be summarised as: “We haven't got a shred of a fucking clue about what happened to that plane, but we'll still spew any sort of bullshit about it to fill space”, but with a nasal accent. I'm not joking! It was even during the sports news, where they spent like two minutes showing the Tweets (the PR teams of ) some F1 drivers defecated before the Malaysian GP. There's no better example of everything that is bad about the 24 hour news cycle, something I wish I was eradicated already.

So I went outside to get some fresh air (really, I pity the soul of the poor woman who had to walk into that room). They morning was still a bit chilly, but it promised a wonderful spring day.

Gradually, the rest woke up and we had breakfast – very unremarkable, to be honest – and we left to Munich shortly afterwards. On the way we picked Kristof, the Schlossbrauerei director, who would be our guide in the beer Mecca. Cool bloke.

As we drove into the centre of Munich, there was one thing that caught my attention. The bicycles, there were thousands, everywhere, and most weren't tied to anything.

We parked at around ten right in the centre of town, basically next to the Hofgarten. The day was gorgeous now, and a bit warm, I was happy to be wearing shorts. We wandered around for a couple of minutes, until we realised we had more important things to do (really, who comes to Munich for sightseeing with so much lovely beer to be drunk?). After a very short debate, it was decided that we would start the boozing day at the Schneider Weisses Brauhaus.

Despite the relatively early hour, the place was full. There was no question about sitting outside, and we were lucky to find a place inside, which I think was better: it's a gorgeous beer hall, and the atmosphere was great. There were some tourists, but most of the patrons seemed to be local, and not few of them were wearing lederhosen.

I wanted to send my guts a clear message of what sort of day they should be ready for, and I thought something like Schneider-Weisse TAP 5 wouldn't leave any room for misinterpretation. If you've never done it, please, do yourselves a favour and drink Hopfenweisse as your first beer in the morning, you will thank me, that's all I think I need to tell you about it.

Food was ordered, the ubiquitous obatzda and the almost mandatory weisswurst – apparently, a breakfast speciality, and a very good one, too. My glass was empty by the time the tureen with the five pairs of sausages arrived, and, with the message already sent, I figured it'd be better to tune things down a bit, with Aventinus – I will never, ever get tired of that beer.

Our next stop was going to be Hofbräuhaus. I must admit that I wasn't too thrilled about it, as the place has a bit of a reputation of being a tourist trap. But the rest wanted to go there, and I wasn't going to be the twat that ruins it for everyone. So, there I went with a smile on my face, as anyone who'd had 1l of strong beer before noon is wont to be.

Tourist trap or not, I'd lie if I said I didn't enjoy myself at Hofbräuhaus. To say that this beer hall is massive is an understatement. I'd never seen something like that – Kristof told us that they tap 17,000hl a year! It was well more than packed when we walked in, with many people walking among the tables hoping to find a place to sit. It's true that there was a much larger proportion of tourists than at Schneider (I even spotted a herd following an umbrella), but there were a lot of locals as well, guaranteeing, and an impressive atmosphere – it was like being in the middle of a philharmonic orchestra where the instruments are the sounds of people having fun.

We eventually found a place to sit in the courtyard, also full, also with a great vibe. It took a bit long to get any service and once we ordered, it took almost as long to get our beers, which are sold only in Maß. It made me realise that I was unfair when I criticised the Czech Beer Festival for switching to Tupláky a couple of yours back. I can't begin to imagine how much longer it would've taken us to get something to drink even beers had come in half litre, instead of 1l measures.

I ordered Dunkles, which can be best described as a paper pusher at the headquarters of a large bank or the public administration. But I couldn't have cared less, really. I could've been drinking Staropramen and I don't think I would've had any less of a good time. And the best was about to arrive.

But you'll have to wait to read about that. It's almost half past beer and I'm thirsty.

Na Zdraví!