Scowl, Nu?

The first snow of the season…

My mother was in town for a few days and since she had never been to Italy before, we decided to take the 2.5 hour drive over the alps to Bolzano in the Alto Adige. The area is very interesting. In some ways, it is very, very Italian. In other ways, you can feel the effect of their German heritage as well (the region has been part of Bavaria, Austria and now Italy over the past 200 years). The residents are bilingual, the local brewery has just as much patrons at their restaurant as the wine pubs do. But the gelato is Italian, no doubt about it…

So, the day is finally over. A couple of Augustiner Vollbiers, some Kräuterkremesuppe (herb creme soup) and a Rindergoulasch (beef stew) from Görreshof and a snifter of Highland Park 18 and I am starting to contemplate sleeping.

Oh, and to the crew from Connecticut – Gruezi!

Sent to me by a friend from the states…

Two tall trees, a birch and a beech, are growing in the woods. A small tree begins to grow between them. The beech says to the birch: “Is that a son of a beech or a son of a birch?” The birch says he cannot tell. Just then a woodpecker lands on the sapling. The birch says, “Woodpecker, you are a tree expert. Can you tell if that is a son of a beech or a son of a birch?”

The woodpecker takes a taste of the small tree. He replies: “It is neither a son of a beech nor a son of a birch. It is, however, the best piece of ash I have ever put my pecker in.

October, 4 the final Saturday of the Oktoberfest. As you can see, it was raining. Horribly. And we were without an umbrella. The pictures are courtesy of a colleague of mine, Terry Stocking.

Outside Schutzen… this was minutes before a bunch of drunken English speakers decided to start throwing glasses.

Paulaner, and our first Mass of beer of the night.

Denim at Paulaner

The crowd at Löwenbräu…

And a parting shot of us.

Well, unfortunately, Oktoberfest is over. 6.5 million liters of beer sold, 6.1 million visitors, 16 days. When all is said and done, we were able to attend 8 times, celebrate my 30th birthday; sit at Löwenbräu festhalle, Ochsenbraterei, Augustiner festhalle, Schutzen and Paulaner Winzer Fahndl; consume a small flock of chickens; drink a respectable amount of beer (though not as much as people assume, and never to the point of excess); and learn a whole set of new traditional drinking songs (like Country Roads and Hey Jude).

But all good things must come to an end. There might be a few new pictures coming from visitors and friends, but that is pretty much it for this year’s Oktoberfest. 50 weeks until next year’s fest!