Hütte culture of the Alps: A day hike to Coburger Hütte

As some of you might know, one of our absolute favorite things about living in Munich (and therefore, in close proximity to the Alps) is the hütte culture. Germans - and Germanic cultures like Switzerland, Austria, and northern Italy, are avid outdoors people. Importantly, though, they are also talented engineers and dedicated beer enthusiasts. So they've developed this incredible concept that combines all three of these things: the mountain huts (hütte auf Deutsch).

Basically, imagine a hiking trail in the middle of the biggest Alps-y mountains you can imagine. Then imagine a log cabin, then imagine that log cabin has picnic benches perfectly perched to soak up the sun and views, a full kitchen serving warm and usually hyper-local food, a bar with cold bier, water dishes for dogs, and sometimes even rooms to sleep. And these "cabins" are in the middle of the mountains, often on crazy peaks or on the side of ledges! It's wild and totally blew my mind when I realized just how awesome they are. Some of the hütten are an easy hike from a parking lot; others require ropes and technical climbing skills that Dave and I don't have.

The "thing to do" in the Alps is to schedule a hütte to hütte to hütte trip hiking between them. Since they're hotel-ish and all have food, you only need to carry clothes and personal items - easy backpacking! But the best hütten for these trips book up weeks, if not months, in advance and we never had our schedule together enough to plan that far in advance. It's definitely still on the bucket list, for this European adventure or another in the future. Instead, we did a few overnights at individual hütte (e.g., our Thanksgiving post), but mostly, our Grey Goose made it possible to sleep at or near a trailhead and then dayhike or trailrun to the hütte for lunch. Honestly, I can barely imagine a better weekend day.

The Coburger wasn't our first hütte, but a good representation of what such a weekend can look like: in the middle of July, we took the van, stationed her in the lot of a ski resort, and hiked up to Coburger in Austria. It was a little bit of a miracle that we made it; we mistakenly took a more technical route than we intended, but didn't realize until too late. The down hikers wearing helmets and harnesses should have been a clue... Ooops. But we made it. Although, this wasn't the last time we made that mistake - see forthcoming post about The Death March.

Bottom line: hütten will always be one of my favorite things about our time in Europe.  

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The next day, we took a trail run through the Ehrwald-Zugspitze region. The gondola helped us get up to the trails and views quicker, and Truff did great on her first ride.  

All this talk of Sweden

I can't think of less likely subject than Sweden to get caught in the middle of a Trump mess. But with all this talk, I'm inspired to make some progress digging our way out from the blog backlog and post some pictures from our magical five days sailing around the Stockholm archipelago with two gracious hosts, Adrienne and Erik. 

AP, as we lovingly call her, and Erik are Colorado residents. But Erik was born and raised in Sweden, and he still has some healthy ties with the country, namely his sailboat. They spent some quality time on the boat this summer, and since Dave and I were only a short flight away, we hopped on a United-miles-ticket and joined them for a long weekend. 

First, I want to acknowledge how awesome it is that in some corners of the job market today, many of us have the flexibility to design our own schedules and to work remotely. Don't get me wrong, I have responsibility and accountability, and I often work way too long or way too late at night. But the other side of that coin is that I have earned (Dave, too!) the trust of my boss, so we're in a lucky position to jet off to, say, Sweden, work for a day or two from a cafe, and then sail away for the weekend.

So that's what we did in mid-July.

We flew into Stockholm, and through a series of buses, taxis, and foot (all which Dave successfully and generously researched and planned), we landed at AP and Erik's home port of Saltsjöbaden. Dave and I worked for the day from a deck with a terrible view (see picture below), then eagerly made our way to their dock, hopped on board to Welcome brews, salmon, and the best gosh darn butter I have ever had. Literally. Seven months later, I'm still thinking about this stuff. Come to think of it, there is probably a Swedish grocery in Munich. 

Erik showed us the ropes (literally and figuratively). A sailboat is a mini, moving, floating house that doubles as transit. So everything has a purpose, a place, a process. It all makes sense, but it took some education for me and Dave to take in, and AP and Erik were kind enough to tell us twice if we forgot. 

The next day we set sail under Erik and AP's great co-captainship. The two of us didn't exactly do much in the way of "sailing" ourselves, but it was fun to watch the skill and experience of our hosts. My biggest claim to fame was pulling in the fenders quickly after launch so that we 1) set a good example, but 2) don't look like an ocean-equivalent of a gaper.

The next four days were filled with some of the most beautiful sunsets, lots of catching up, cold beer, plenty of gravlax, lots more Bregott, reading, stand-up-paddle-boarding, talking with strangers, arguing with strangers, and sauna. Lots of sauna.

Dave said he wasn't a sauna guy, but he sure seemed to be on this trip. On almost each rock island we stopped at, there was another little wooden structure, always built next to the water. Behind each sauna is an ax and huge piles of wood to be chopped - the heat comes directly from nature (after the local authorities drop off the wood). So in you go, and when you get too sweaty to stand it, out you go diving into the sea. Rinse and repeat: into the sauna you go again.

We ended the trip in an adorable Swedish vacation town called Sandhamn. If you ever find yourself in the Stockholm archipelago, this place will probably make your itinerary. And it should. If for no other reason than for the bread at a small village bakery, Sandhamns bageri.

Before this trip, I had mistakenly boxed sailing into a corner - that it was a leisure activity for the most elite. That it was the glamping of outdoor activities. But what I learned on this trip is that to sail the way AP and Erik sail, requires you to have a deep, connected relationship with the environment. You need to know not just your instruments, not just your tools, but you also need to know how to read maps, how to read the weather, how to read the way land and water interact. You need to be much more connected to earth, wind, and fire than I ever imagine. So for that alone, I'm grateful. 

I was also given insight into Swedish sailing culture. Parking at remote rocks far out in the ocean - or in a more formal setting is easier when people help. And if they're around, they hop out of their boat to help you navigate yours. Loading the wood-burning sauna with freshly cut logs is a community responsibility. Sharing is welcome, if not common. Living on the water in this nordic land can be as collaborative and community focused, or as individual and intimate, as you want. I digged it. 

Thank you to AP and Erik for letting us into your world for a hot minute. We adore you, and we treasure this trip. 

 

[Regretfully, we have no pictures of the sauna! Our memories alone will have to suffice.]

A Guest Post by Courtney

[Caveat: Courtney didn't actually write this. But we imagined this is what she would have said if she were the author.]

I’ll start by saying that I'm not actually thankful that Sarah and Dave moved to Europe because I miss them. But I am thankful that I got to visit, get a slice of their Euro adventure, see their life in Munich and around, and have some hearty, late-night catch up sessions with SBZ. 

As a real estate agent, I don’t always have to be in an office Monday-Friday, so you would think that finding time for a the trip would be easy. But of course, as a real estate agent, I also kind of always have to be nearby and available. So the spring turned into summer, and back to fall again, and I had no visit in sight. When Sarah pointed out that she and Dave were already contemplating their return, I had a look at the calendar. No way were they making it back here without me finding the time to visit. So: Thanksgiving! No one wants to buy or sell houses then, so it proved to be the perfect time. 

I packed my bag full of, well, mostly stuff that Dave’s family sent me to schlep over to Munich. Then off I went! But not alone - Sarah suggested I bring along my boyfriend, Pat, since she has fomo and hadn't yet met him. I was happily surprised by the invitation and that he quickly bit the bullet for a last-minute plane ticket and joined the fun.  

Pat and I left San Francisco without any real plan or agenda (Dave usually takes care of that - score!). We were pretty sure Sarah and Dave had mentioned the Dolomites. That's at least what we told our friends and family, but honestly, we had no idea. For our arrival, Dave had prepared us with classic Dave-style instructions (too long, too detailed). I landed a few hours ahead of Pat, so I took a bus then hopped in a cab per the instructions. And that's when it happened: my first true German experience - I got yelled at!!! Just like Sarah had been describing on the phone to me, about how Germans are rude and mean. Now I knew precisely what she's been talking about, and I felt a little bad for her / slash was a little impressed she's been able to tolerate it for so long.

After ditching the cab and lugging my heavy suitcase for like 45 minutes through dark streets of Munich, the fiasco was forgotten when all four of us were warm and cozy, German biers in hand, at an old, authentico restaurant near their house. If you’ve already visited them, you know what I’m talking about because apparently they bring all their guests here. It's their fave, and for good reason. To create an agenda for the next few days, Dave drew us a map of central Europe (Switzerland is landlocked? who knew!) and gave us options. He always has options.

Long story short, there was a Bluegrass "festival" in Munich the next night - yes! This is the perfect thing to do with Sarah and Pat (see photo below). So, we decided to stay a full day in Munich, see the town, then head to Italy.  

Staying in Germany for a day meant we could also finish that bottle of wine. 4am later, Sarah and I were deep into best-friending when we stumbled into bed. I was so happy that we could get get some solid 1:1 time together so quickly.

Oh, and the other best thing about the first day? The way Truffle greeted me when I arrived. She must have recognized my voice on the front door intercom and came jumping and sprinting to greet me at the elevator. It melted me. 

The next day, we got up late (very late) and we blamed it on jet lag - woops! Dave was out the door at 8am, doing whatever chores it is that he always has to do. Pat, Sarah, Truff, and I took a long, leisurely walk through her neighborhood, along the Isar River, and ended up in a super awesome market (Viktaulienmarkt). Sarah left for home (she had work calls, bah), so Pat and I got to explore Munich on our own. It didn't take long before we found the Hofbrauhaus, where we had a huge glass of... wine. Sssshhh. 

The next morning, we were off to our mountain hut adventure. Dave didn’t know too much about it, except that it was going to be a bit of a shit show to get to if we didn’t hurry.*

 

*We didn’t hurry, and it was a shit show.

We rented skis and got in the one of the last trams up a crazy steep mountain, probably one of the steepest mountains I have ever been up. We quickly were in dense fog and could barely see two feet in front of us. We called the hut, but reception was bad, and we were pretty confused after the vague instructions to download two chairs from the top. It was also freezing cold, the sun was setting, and the fog was thick and getting thicker. We figured, it's a hut on the ski mountain, so everyone will know where it is and be able to point us in the right direction. It can't be that bad, right? 

Sarah and I took off our skis began to download. Dave and Pat skied off into the clouds, with Truffle running behind. We immediately lost visual of them and we immediately feared for their lives. How were they going to ski down an unfamiliar mountain, with Truffle, in bad weather? I was nervous, and that got Sarah nervous, which got me even more nervous and her more nervous... 

We got off one chair and tried to get some guidance on where to go. But the lift ops didn't speak English, and we don't speak Italian, and no one seemed to have ever heard of our hütte. We rode down a second chairlift, hoping it was in the right direction, with still no sign of the boys. In camp-speak, this was definitely the trip low-light with max fear factor. The Polizia skied up to us - uh-oh...Well, it turns out that ski patrol in Italy are the "police" and they had safely escorted Pat, Dave, and Truffle most of the way down the mountain. Phew! In the end, it all worked out, we got to the hut (via snowcat, straight up a hill for 10 minutes), and all was good.

We were let in by Jasmine, who proved to be the simply The. Best. Host. Within minutes, we were sitting in front of an open fire, in a gorgeous mountain hut in the middle (quite literally) of the Italian Alps, with Italian wine, mountain cheese, and freshly sliced local ham. Everything was going to be alright.

An AMAZING meal later, we were stuffed and ready for bed. The hut’s bedrooms were very simple but beautiful with hardwood everything. But those damn European beds - two singles pushed together do not equal a queen. But, whatever. Everything at the hut was comfy and cozy, and since it was offseason, we had the place all to ourselves. It was like we rented a private cabin the mountains with personal chefs and a personal Jasmine.   

The hut is named Bella Vista. In German, “Schöne Aussicht.” This translates into “Beautiful View.” The next morning, without the fog and dark, we could see the vista. And indeed, it was very, very bella (see photos below).  

Then, we spent THANKSIVING skiing! The chairlift was a short 5 minute ski down the hill from the hut. We took the chair to the top, and whoa. The alps are impressive. They go on for ever and ever. And they're SO BIG. The conditions weren’t epic, but Pat and I really enjoyed ourselves - we were really IN the mountains, and I loved it. I felt really happy that day being outside with people I care about. 

We went back to the hut for the Thanksgiving feast to come. It wasn’t turkey and stuffing, but it was traditional Germanic Italian cuisine: pasta and knödel and locally raised beef. It was totally rich and very delicious. Plus, we had Kaiserschmarrn for desert! After dinner, we had a competitive game of Settlers (Dave won by a landslide - we all ganged up on him and he still beat us), and we toasted all the things for which we're grateful. It was a memorable and perfect friendsgiving. 

... Until I got sick with some sort of virus or food poisoning. The next day, the fog was back, I felt like crap, and I just wanted to get out of there. The boys skied down to the base with Truffle, but Sarah and I took the tram down. In the Grey Goose we went deeper into Italy; I passed out in the back trying to recover my energy.

While Pat and I slept, Sarah and Dave updated our plans from wine country. We were headed to Lake Como! Awesome, I thought. My parents talked about Lake Como, and I had always wanted to go but never made it. It was raining and that part sucked, but it didn't diminish our experience too much.

Pat and I booked a last minuted hotel, and Sarah/Dave/Truffle slept in their van in a money spot right next to the lake. On Saturday, Pat flew back to San Francisco (tear) but this meant I got to have some extra QT with Sarah (smile). After a walk to a bakery, Sarah and I took the train to Milan for some SHOPPING. Dave stayed at the lake, apparently working from the van (boring!), while the two of us walked around Milan. I scored a killer ITALIAN LEATHER JACKET. Sarah bought... wrapping paper. What? I don't know, I can't explain it either. Oh, and damn, that pasta lunch was something to write home about.

Back in Como, I got to experience a true Christmas Market! It was everything Sarah and Dave talked about. Full of cute wooden stalls, fun atmosphere, and mulled wine called gluhwein that is delicious. And it had a light show that was a unique experience. Definitely got me in the Christmas spirit. 

We got back to Munich after a fun drive through gorgeous Switzerland (4th country in 5 days!). For my last day, I got bonus Sarah time. We did some Christmas shopping around Munich, went for a really pretty run along the river, had some more gluhwein, and got to experience her day-to-day life a little bit more. 

All in all, I'd say that Munich is prettier than Sarah describes it. A mix of old and new, it feels very livable. But, she's right about the locals. And yes, there isn’t as much English speaking as Sarah thought before she moved. But it is cute, and clean, and safe, and close to so many epic destinations. 

I am Thankful for my friends, new and old.

The 10-18 Scavenger Hunt of Lisboa

For our second wedding anniversary (!!!), we went to Lisbon* for a long weekend. I've been wanting to go, but didn't know ANYthing about the city, or country in fact, even when we landed. Case in point: it's Lisboa in Portuguese and nope, didn't know that. We showed up with our suitcases, an Airbnb booked, and no plans and no ideas of what are the must-dos. So we scribbled down 18 things -- in honor of our actual anniversary date, 10/18 -- that we had to photo-find over the next 3 days. The next morning we were off! On runs around the city, a free walking tour, locals-only beer festival, a day at the beach, and some standard exploration. Here's the results - judge for yourself! Did we win? 

THE 10-18 SCAVENGER HUNT OF LISBOA

  1. Could-be San Franciscan
  2. Trump supporter
  3. Something from Germany
  4. Something better than Germany
  5. Summer vacation reminder
  6. A 10-18 reminder (our anniversary date)
  7. A gift for Truffle
  8. Renewable energy
  9. Are we in San Francisco?
  10. A doppelgänger 
  11. Something from Sarah's kitchen
  12. Urban gaper 
  13. History!
  14. Something lost
  15. Something found
  16. A fireplace, scrapbook, or cribbage board (not ours)
  17. Two lovers (not us)
  18. You'll know it when you see it

1) Could-be San Franciscan. The messy sidebun is a San Francisco standard. The food truck she's working in made it a shoe-in. Found at a beer festival outside of Lisbon. 

2) Trump supporter. So we didn't actually talk to these three people on our walking tour, per se, so it's pretty judge-y of us to assume. And we feel bad about that... But you'll just have to trust us that we had enough clues and are still pretty sure they're not With Her. 

3) Something from Germany. We overheard this tourist family speaking in German. It's an unmistakable language (to say the least). 

4) Something better than Germany. This one was easy. One of my least favorite things about living in Munich is the lack of coffee-shop-work culture. I always feel like an obnoxious American busting out my computer when everyone else is sitting in intimate conversation or with print newspapers and cappuccinos. Portugal, though, is filled with awesome cafes and bars where people of all different ages work and study. When we stopped in this German-themed cafe in the middle of Lisbon, it was filled with chill Portuguese. Some reading, some talking, some working. It's a place I'd totally hang... if it existed in Munich. Definitely better here in Lisbon. 

5) Summer vacation reminder. We went on a two-week roadtrip around Scotland this summer (one of these days we'll write a post). We stopped for an afternoon beer and a few rounds of cribbage at Duque Brewpub. Next to us were two young kids from Newcastle. UK - close enough! Definitely reminded us of vacation. 

6) A 10-18 reminder (our anniversary date). As many of you know, we got married in Bolinas - one of the most beautiful places on the planet. Our first afternoon in Lisbon, we got wind of a small beer festival the weekend we were in town. Portugal is known for wine. But there's a small, burgeoning craft beer scene and we were eager to learn more. A 25-minute drive out of town, we found ourselves in the middle of a pretty authentico evening, tasting small batch, just-created brews, and speaking in broken sentences to the brewers and workers. I saw this when we first walked in and shrieked, knowing how perfectly we just scored for #6 on the list. 

7)  A gift for Truffle. She comes with us most places, but not anywhere we need to take a plane. Truff wasn't with us in person, but she was in spirit. We thought of her a lot, and imagined what parts of Portugal she'd dig, and parts she'd be over. Took a trail walk along the coast in Cascais and thought of her - hiking is her fave. Note: we also walked along a beach; also could have qualified. 

8) Renewable energy. Admittedly, this one was WAY harder than we thought it would be. And, frankly, than it should be - shouldn't there be solar all across Portugal? There's like no renewable energy around Lisbon... especially compared to Germany and Austria. But, toward the end of our last day walking back into Cascais, we spotted these beauties on the roof of the police station - the only ones we saw anywhere. They didn't look like panels we see in the US (or Germany for that matter), so I went in to the station to confirm. Check. 

9) Are we in San Francisco? Tartine in San Francisco was just a few blocks from our apartment. And this tartine, while not in the same league, was only a few blocks from our Airbnb. And they make a mean spinach croissant. Yes, we had breakfast there every single morning.

10) A doppelgänger. You can't tell in this photo, but he is a living, breathing Portuguese BEN KAUFMAN. From the ethnically ambiguous physical traits, to his point of view on urban development, he is BK's long lost brother. Also, if you're ever in Lisbon, take this free tour; and we totally recommend our guide, Ben. I mean Nuno. 

11) Something from Sarah's kitchen. Grabbed a snackboard while at Dois Corvos brewery in Lisbon, and it literally could have come from our apartment on 19th St. A slate cheese board, olives, and nuts. Yep. 

12) Urban gaper. Rick Steves book & socked Tevas, with bright yellow backpack and shirt in case they get separated in a crowd - the city version of an unhip snow enthusiast. [...and, yes, we realize this is probably us, fast forward into the future.]

13) History! The Sé de Lisboa (also known as Santa Maria Maior de Lisboa, or the Lisbon Cathedral). It's a Roman Catholic Church dating back to 1147. Easily: history. 

14) Something lost. These are stairs to nowhere along the coastal walk in Cascais.

15) Something found. The food in Germany is, generally speaking, very rich. Food is fresh, yes, and the markets are fantastic. But overall, I have a lack of veggies -- especially kale -- in my life. NOT ANY MORE! I FOUND THE VEGETABLES!!! Thanks to this amazing spot, House of Wonders, we stumbled on. 

16) A fireplace, scrapbook, or cribbage board (not ours). House of Wonders was a total score not just because of the veggies (and #15), but also because we checked off another! When we walked in and saw this old school wood stove, we high-fived immediately, knowing we hit #16. 

17) Two lovers (not us). Two seconds before we snapped this pic, these two love-bird teenagers were totally all over each other. It was cute to see their 16-year-old excitement. And this more subdued moment of affection also made us smile. 

18) You'll know it when you see it. We re-read our vows, and talked about the last year, and all the good parts and hard parts and how awesome it is to be together. Anniversary money shot as our scavenger hunt wild card.  

In the end, we considered our scavenger hunt a total victory. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

 

Here's the evidence of 18 items checked: 

* Lisbon?

Lisbon was AWESOME. We went there because I put it on my must-see list, and Dave booked it with miles two months prior without me knowing. Our Airbnb was perfect, cheap, and in the center of an incredibly vibrant town. Restaurants, bars, hip shops everywhere we turned. Amazing food, always affordable. A nascent beer scene that we were somehow able to get see up close. Vegetables on every menu! And the wine is pretty darn good too at a really good price. Bonus: everyone spoke impeccable English. The news tells you Portugal has serious economic troubles, but we saw only the contrary: expensive cars, every establishment full, and construction everywhere (the most we've seen in Europe; or, anywhere, really). Strongly recommend it; we'll be happy to travel back there with you.

Everything You Need to Know About Oktoberfest

BY DAVE (and sarah).

The first thing to know is that Oktoberfest is mostly in September, but you probably knew that from your European edition of Trivial Pursuit. We were prepared for that one. We were not as prepared for just how much dang fun it would be. Good, clean (ok, drunken), fun. Here's what our experiences were like:

Matt and Lindsey visited September 16-19th - they actually wanted to come the preceding weekend but due to some other scheduling logistics we made them come for the opening weekend of Oktoberfest. In my usual way, I was nervous about crowds, so I made everyone get up early, eat a big breakfast, and then hurry out of the house to make it there by 10am. Mind you, no beer is served til noon. But, getting a seat inside a "tent" supposedly requires showing up early (some websites said we had to get there by 6am!). 

With our newly minted costumes on (see photos below), we left for the "long" walk from our apartment to the Oktoberfest site. 13 minutes later, we were there - yes, we can see (barely) and hear (faintly) the Oktoberfest festivities from our house....the same site that's been used since the early 1800s is only a mile away! 

First impression: wow, big. Second impression: wow, the carnival scene is huge. Third impression: Sarah, Lindsey, and Matt are very aware at how much I'm hurrying us to find a "tent" and moving us along. Fourth impression: wow, lots of people fit inside these this "tent!"

So let's break that down:

The site is about 3 square blocks of concrete. And it's a carnival, with some serious rides, theme park games, and junk food stands everywhere. At least half, if not more, of the surface area is devoted to these non-bier purposes.

The rest of the surface area is made of what you by now have noticed are not actually "tents". They are impressive, multi-story, wooden semi-permanent structures that take 3 months to build and 1 month to take down. Each one is massive; there is nothing tent-like about them.

Each "tent" has a different theme, though, spoiler alert, we couldn't really tell much of a difference between them. With S, L, & M playing along with my determination, in we went to Hacker-Pshorr; no, we hadn't heard of it either. Now, we have to find a seat. There are ~620 tables fitting 10 people each, and darn near every table was full. We stroll up and down the aisles, and finally we spot an opening -- a table with only 5 people. I run over and ask in broken German if we can have a seat. With a Boston accent, they said, "totally!" 

So, what do you do for the 2 hours of waiting for beer? Wish you brought a deck of cards. Short of that, download that Taboo-like game for your iphone. Wait... the Oktoberfest thing to do is make friends with Team Boston next to you. And then, at 11:45am when the server comes around to take your beer order, start getting excited.

At 12 on the dot, the parade comes into the "tent" with all sorts of pomp. Officials are carrying flags, people are cheering, and the MC speaks in a German that I swear was some other language. By 12:15, we hit the jackpot: our waitress carries 8 beers, a liter each in heavy glasses (many servers can carry all 10 for a table, but we liked our lady even if she could only manage 8). 

Soon after that, the music starts. First, trumpets on the balcony. And then a lively horn band with a German singer. Not long after, these guys with 10 yard long whips stand about 5 tables apart from each other, and whip their whips above drinking patrons. Weird, but fun and cool.

By about 1pm, the whole place feels drunk. But they aren't (yet) - it's just that the energy is infectious. The pretzels are huge, the music is fun, and when you have 6000+ people smiling, you can't help but do the same. It doesn't take long before Team Boston becomes your best friends - making friends with your table-mates is part of the Oktoberfest allure.

The Oktoberfest beer is a special brew made just for this time of year. It doesn't taste anything like the Octoberfest brews from the States, which come much darker in color and with sweet notes of Fall. These are a Märzen variety, just a little golden, full bodied and crisp. And typically around 6%. 

One beer turned into two. And somehow two turned into three. Another pretzel was ordered. And despite having an extensive food menu, a third pretzel and a pickle was ordered. For those of you doing math at home, 3 liters of 6% beer demands more than 3/4 of a pretzel per person, but we somehow forgot to order anything else. Needless to say, the walk home is a bit hazy. But the fun is crystal clear. 

********

Two weeks later, Uncle Peter and Aunt Donna are in town with the sole purpose of seeing what Oktoberfest is all about (not really, but at least in part). They go by themselves within 2 hours of landing in Munich (I'm away on a work trip and Sarah is working). A couple days later, it's time for us to go back. Peter and Donna went first and scored a seat at Löwenbrau, where we met them there a couple hours later. And we can't help but enjoy ourselves again.

One downside of Oktoberfest is the crowds. But one upside of Oktoberfest is the crowds! They make sure every single seat is filled at each of the 10-person tables, so that means you're always sharing with strangers... and ultimately making friends.

Reserving tables is a 'thing': like the Super Bowl, most seats are reserved by businesses. My company doesn't do this (remember, it's a French company), but we understand that almost all others do. So, after two beers of good conversation with our new friends (one tablemate was a German woman who was texting her daughter about how good looking our other tablemates were, who happened to be 3 Italian policemen), we were booted out for a reservation that was coming. Out on the grounds of Oktoberfest, on a beautiful day, we could really see all of the revelers in full swag. It seems like at least 80% were dressed up, just adding to the festive nature. We were definitely not out of place in our garb.

We weren't ready to leave yet, so after walking around some, we were on the hunt for another "tent", and boy did we find a good one. Spaten was not my favorite beer before, but it is now. The tent itself is famous for it's Ox dishes (its "theme"); lucky for Sarah, she didn't see the rotating ox slow-cooker out back. But because of this fame for its meat, the locales were in full force here. We were concerned we wouldn't get a table, but within 3 minutes, a server led us to seats right under the band. Score! Our table averaged Donna/Peter's age, and by the middle of our third beer for the day, all four of us were on on the chairs dancing, like locals. Even Peter got on his chair to dance! 

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The last night of Peter/Donna's trip coincided with the last night of Oktoberfest (which lasts 2.5 weeks). Despite being a school night, Peter wanted one! last! bier! Who knew he was such a party animal?! Poor Sarah was stuck in work meetings so the rest of us had to abide by Peter's wish. A few hours later, at a late dinner, Peter cheerfully recounted the 3 decisions that were done very well that night: 1) to go to back to Oktoberfest in the first place (Peter's choice), 2) to pick the Augustiner tent (Dave's choice), and 3) to find the best seats in the house (Donna's doing). Even though we only had one beer, we found ourselves unable to resist climbing onto our chairs, one more time, to dance along with everyone else - check it out the party below (no sound available)

A HUGE thanks to Lindsey & Matt and Peter & Donna for traveling thousands of miles to come visit and see our life here in Munich. It was really fun to share such a cultural, very-German experience with you. Pictures of our amazingly-easy, so-awesome-they-came guests and some other scenes from our few days at Oktoberfest: 

Sometimes it's the small things.

For those of you who I've talked to, you know being here isn't always easy for me. I don't speak the language, I work crazy weird hours, I have major FOMO for all the friends dinners and ladies' nights in San Francisco, and damn! going to the grocery store every day because things are sold in tiny one-serving portions is annoying. Yes, in spite of the quick and pretty Instagrams, it is indeed often hard. 

But! There are also wonderful things about being here and living in Europe. There's the obvious reasons like living an hour from the Alps, or being able to jet off to Rome or Barcelona or London. There are also the small reasons, the things that are just a tiny bit different from what we do in the states, or are just a tiny bit wonderful in their own way. Sometimes, it's the small things that make it so interesting and fun. 

A few weeks ago, we were driving home from the mountains and saw the German-equivalent of a Pick-Your-Own flower farm! And then I came across another! Complete with an on-your-honor payment system and little crappy knives to cut the blooms. Man, do I love this place. I've already become a regular patron anytime we're driving nearby. I love being able to cut my own pretties and smell them all week long. 

Sometimes it really is the small things.