Skandal in Stuttgart.

My lovely mother described me as a “fluffy bunny that has just arrived from another planet and started bumping into things” and with that I begin my first blog of the month of May. But first we must hark back to April, at the end of which two harrowing accounts of the weekend have been written by good friends Nath and Adam. Both blog posts are definitely worth a read if you want to gain more depth to the weekend. Links to these can be found at the end of this post.

#madeinmunich

Friday > Travel to Stuttgart

Nothing finishes off a week quite like a leisurely lunch at the astonishing BMW-Vierzylinder building. Wolfgang, Emmanuel and I opted for a five-star burger and chips, after we’d eaten our fill we went for a stroll as the sun was finally shining unashamedly in manufacturing heart of our beautiful city. Wishing Wolfgang well on his holiday in France and wishing Mannu a good rest of the afternoon, I left my colleagues and headed for the U3 Olympiazentrum with a spring in my step. A hop, skip and a jump and I was sitting in Marienplatz with Nath who had gathered necessary supplies for the weekend, namely sunglasses, sure for men/fauns, sausages and bread. This shopping basket was in many ways very predictable. Perhaps with hindsight, the purchase of sunglasses was tempting fate and in accordance with Sod’s Law the clouds began to darken as we embarked on our journey West across the border into the next federal state.

The transfer from Munich’s coach station (Hackerbrücke) to Stuttgart Flughafen was comfortable even if we were travelling on some stinky commuter bus with a bunch of plebs. During the journey we almost managed to convince Simon that Nath had been involved in a scuffle with police and was being held in custody in Munich over drugs charges and had consequently not been able to travel thereby tragically missing the connection and waving goodbye to a 15€ for DeinBus.de. “Was any of that actually true?” interrogated Simon knowingly and before we knew it the story had fallen apart.

I’d be lying if I wrote that beer hadn’t played a central role in brewing of the Year Abroad adventure. Some are now coming to then end of their placement years and their stories will come to an end. This group of German studying friends are called The Berlin Six. We’re a team and just like in all teams, substitutions have been made along the way as members have fallen by the wayside, but in spite of this we remain a sturdy sextet. Members of the Berlin 6 are strewn across the Fatherland living in major cities or at the very least in their suburbs, with the exception of Adam in Blankenburg and perhaps also Euan, although Wolfsburg will always be well-known as long as the headquarters of Volkswagen.

As part and parcel of the Year Abroad experience we, the six, can whole-heartedly say we’ve participated in lavish reunions starting in Munich, taking us to Hamburg and of course Berlin, and as of last weekend, what I assume was the last of our “great reunions” to celebrate Simon’s 21st at the Cannstatter Wasen in Stuttgart. For those who don’t know, the Wasen (pronounced “vaah-zun”) is Baden-Württemberg’s feeble attempt at mimicking the world famous and unbeatably original Wies’n (pronounced “vee-zun”) know to most as the Oktoberfest. The rivalry between Bavaria and Baden-W is clear, the two states being similar both culturally and geographically by which I mean both are predominantly catholic and together make up the south of Germany. Baden-Württemberg can be described as a New Mexico, if Bavaria was the Texas of Deutschland. As an honorary Bavarian, I am supposed to turn my nose up at the mention of Baden-Württemberg disregarding the lot of them as a worthless inferior bunch of losers. But I’m nice so I don’t mention anything. However, competition is rife and competition is life: Stuttgart is the home of both Menacing Mercedes and Pretentious Porsche so I took my BMW keyring with me to keep me safe.

If I’m honest we didn’t feel welcome amongst the Swabians (don’t worry Simon this post will get positive at some stage, I promise) we were greeted  by disgruntled weather very soon after we left the heavenly Holy Free State of Bavaria and slipped into the marsh that is Baden-Württemberg. Perhaps the Gods were taking revenge on me for the sheer havoc Ludo and I wreaked in Tübingen during our school exchange way back during the Easter of 2009, the upshot of which being that along with an inexcusable number of our peers were raided by Polizei as we partied on an island in the middle of a river, causing one of our friends to be found too drunk and then being hospitalised and diagnosed with alcohol poisoning. In light of this desperate story, in which no-one appeared more heroic than John Hewitt-Jones, I was determined to show the Schwabens that we were ready to behave now, having spent five years on the naughty step.

After a pleasant journey, we arrived at the airport. Nath was first to look out of the coach window and spot Simon, whom again seemed to be pursing his lips and looking like a man with a plan. The way Simon was dressed in black and clutching his rucksack and looking at his shiny watch, I deduced that the weekend would involve a high frequency of “quick turnarounds”, “chivvying” and many a “rendez-vous”.

We checked into the hotel, where Simon had placed chocolates on our pillows in anticipation of our arrival, reinforcing my Mum’s belief that he will make a great husband. It looks like she might be onto something. We were introduced to Simon’s friends, Colin, Joey and the Italian girl, Mazza was it or Mazzi. Sorry Italian girl you were important to me but I forgot your name because it wasn’t an easy one to remember. Colin and Joey kept us entertained with their stories involving Simon speeding in Switzerland and with occasional updates about Stuart the office melt. Who actually, even though we were fed propaganda to persuade us that he was a volatile personality, he actually turned out to be a really nice guy who needed a bit of a hug. We were impressed with all of Simon’s lovely friends and we all knew that if we’d been in Stuttgart with him, we would have got to know them really well.

Simon managed to maintain a comfortable balance between sticking religiously to the timetable thereby making sure we met the objectives outlined and also at the same time his gentle nature ensured we Gentiles were all able to enjoy ourselves, even if some members of the group didn’t know where to draw the line and wound up sleeping in a bed of pringles (Adam Shaw, I’m looking at you). Unexpectedly but thankfully, Sara would also make an appearance and act as the Robin to Simon’s Batman for the course of the weekend, radioing in different sections, establishing ERV’s and coordinating attacks on some of the city’s most visited cocktail bars.

Saturday > on the Wasen

As previously mentioned it’s sort of like a post-apocalyptic take on Oktoberfest, or Oktoby as Barney lovingly calls it. Adam said it reminded him more of Hannover Volksfest in terms of size and I think I vaguely remember Euan nodding in agreement. That said the rides were extraordinary, noteworthy was an astonishing haunted house with a fountain of blood in the front garden. The weather was pretty dreary if we’re honest but Simon didn’t let that dampen spirits. He led us to our tent: the Göckelsmaier tent which had some inexplicable fetish involving chicken, which then justified decorating the entire place with them. Beer was flowing, music was being played and the atmosphere was starting to pick up. The best thing about these festivals are the difference between people drinking their first beer and people drinking their second. During the first many were still cursing themselves and nursing the hangover, but during the second we were all dancing on the tables as if it was perfectly acceptable, which of course it was. Then came the strange conversations. At one point we got onto the topic of Harry Potter, no-one dared question that Nonie would have been in Gryffindor, and Sara seemed to fit nicely into Ravenclaw which was all completely reasonable. I then almost dropped my Maß and looked around me in horror as I heard that everyone, everyone was synonymous when they agreed I would be in Slytherin. Upsetting stuff indeed, although I took it as a slight compliment, I mean, hey, at least I wasn’t in Hufflepuff with Euan.

Eventually, German punctuality gave us the boot and we were kicked off our tables like common criminals because our tables were strictly reserved from 11am until 4pm. Shortly afterwards we became caught in a sea of people and Scouse, Adam and I clung to each other like lions caught in a stampede of wilder beast  When we floated out the other end we were greeted with a cold shower but nevertheless pumped full of desire to ride rollercoasters. Dodgems were a highlight as Adam was flung about, eventually realising that reverse wasn’t the only gear that could be utilised. We then thought it would be a great idea to go very high up on some swings which was the equivalent of paying 5€ to be put into the heart of a tornado. Which is quite good value the more I think about it, but we were very cold as the wind and rain ripped into our skin and our leather shorts began to chafe.

A few missed calls, a train journey and a walk later, Scouse, Adam and managed to find the rest of the group Adam making only a slight detour to kick a pigeon that took a quick dislike to him (fair enough). With a little help from Simon and Sara, winners of Mr. & Mrs. Stuttgart 2013, we found ourselves sitting comfortably in a tapas bar in the city centre. We made the natural transition to the place to be in Stuttgart on a Saturday night: a cocktail bar called Mauritius, where Adam angered some nearby Muslim women having purchased some ham from LIDL and started to fashion different varieties of jewelry with said slices of pork. What he was doing was far from halal, but the ladies can’t have been all that religious sipping cocktails at 4,99€. Shortly afterwards our drinks we then briefly returned to the ‘fest and those who had missed out on roller-coasting were able to scream their heads off once again.

Sunday > Back to MUC

All to quickly the weekend was over. We checked out of the hotel and the next stop was Vapiano’s. Afterwards we had time for a little sightseeing and what better tour guides to have than Simon and Sara.

Many thanks to Simon for literally sorting everyone out and buying us presents even though it was his birthday, what a man. A very happy birthday to a great man and a fantastic friend, we’re lucky to have him. Thanks to his friends for integrating us nicely into the group and a massive apology to the pigeons of Stuttgart, we promise Adam will not be thinking up any more ways to practice avian athletics.

As promised the links to my friends’ accounts of the same weekend 26th-28th April 2013.

“Snonie White & the Seven Dorks” ~Nath Thorpe 02.05.2013

“Simply the Fest” ~Adam Shaw  30.04.2013

The Good, the Bad and the Olga.

#madeinmunich

Over the past week I have been reunited with my good friend Ludo, viewed some houses and attended Oktoberfest, obviously.

Saturday: It was great to see the boy Ludo, we haven’t seen each other since school but by coincidence he is also in Munich this year to study at LMU. He has been looking for an apartment, so I accompanied him to a couple of viewings on Saturday. The first landlord was just a normal guy, the second was a wicked witch. Ludo obviously preferred the wicked witch of the east. We set off in the morning to get some house-viewing done, and weirdly the overcast weather had made the Fernsehturm look almost like a second-hand maraca, rather than a TV tower.

THE TALE OF OLGA THE OUTRAGEOUS

Once upon a time there was a very intimidating Russian landlady named Olga. She was older than the trees. We pressed the buzzer to her apartment and instantly knew she was a nutter because she had taken the time to etch KEINE WERBUNG in black marker next to her surname. After an initial click, the door creaked open and we shuffled inside the dimly lit entrance. In true horror-movie style, the door slammed behind us and we could see our breath in the cold, damp foyer. If you can call it a foyer. Before we could even gather our thoughts, she burst out of the lift in a cloud of dust, clutching a larg green rug firmly under her left arm whilst her right arm was confidfently outstreched to embrace me. She told us to go upstairs and wait for her whilst she took the rug to the cellar. Guessing that she was in fact preparing a lime green cauldron, we embraced our inevitable deaths and took the lift to the third floor. To make things worse, she had a proper cackle, again more signs that she was in fact a previous Slytherin housemistress. We waited outside her apartment, even though the door was wide open, trying to remember if it was Hansel or Grethel that got cooked in the stove. When she finally came back upstairs she howled with laughter at our reservation and to ease the tension, she cracked out a Chernobyl joke. Needless to say, it didn’t break the ice.

Ushering us inside, she looked like she might actually shove us into a giant microwave and stick us on high for 15 minutes, if not 20. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a rack of carving knives and wondered how many children she had previously butchered. Whilst giving us an interesting but completely unneccessary history of the surrounding area, she mentioned a grand church that was round the corner. Clearly our reaction wasn’t enthusiastic enough and she asked us worriedly whether we were Roman catholic or not. Every few minutes she would interupt  with “MOMENT….langgggssam. Ich bin nur eine alte Frau…”. At which point we really didn’t know if we were being rude or whether she was just a complete nutter. Having said that though she was by her own admission completely mad. She explained that “Ich bin ziemlich crazy aber nicht soo crazy”. Yes clearly Olga, whatever you say.

“Jazz ist ziemlich modern, Doppelglas ist sehr modern.” ~ Music and construction were just some of Olga’s interests.

Olga seemed to be recovering from integrating with other nationalities as she explained how different previous tenants had used the shower. “Die Griechen und Japaner duschen hier” pointing to the floor. “Wir duschen aber hier” pointing to the bath. “Verstehst du? Ich weiß noch nicht, wo die Engländer duschen”. This was followed by a lengthly cackle whilst glancing to and from myself and Ludo showing a horrific grin when she displayed her sharp canines and and black, worn-down incisors. (All the better to eat you with). Anyway, Ludo was a massive fan and rang her the following day. Needless to say she had apparently found him too loud and on this basis had rejected him. Sad times. But hey, at least my friend won’t get boiled alive by Outrageous Olga.

Sunday: Every year the middle weekend of the Wiesn is an unofficial Italian weekend. As expected they invaded our city and effectively ruined Oktoberfest for the weekend. Ask anyone, who isn’t italian and they will agree. So naturally Munich was full of outrageous amounts of the people, bringing this time not pizza nor pasta, but bad attitudes and worse facial hair. On top of this they brought atrocious weather. The cheek of it! Thanks to the horrific concentration of them I was unable to get into a tent to see friends and instead had to wait in the rain inhaling their second-hand smoke, only to be turned away and end up going home a bit miserable. So as you can imagine I wasn’t best pleased. The Aussies, Americans and Brits may get bad names but we are definitely not the worst tourists. We may be mental and do a few silly things but at least we do so with the best of intentions. Definitely looking forward to the coming weekend which will be truly a gentlemanly and English affair.

This Tuesday we were all dressed in Lederhosen at work, for one reason and one reason only. We were all headed to the biggest event of all time: Oktoberfest 2012. A Tuesday night, you say? That seems a bit irresponsible…even by Marcus’ standards. Normally you would be right, but this Wednesday was Tag der Deutschen Einheit or the Day of German Reunification. This is to a nationwide bank holiday to celebrate the unification of East and West and the creation of the Bundesrepublik Deutschland. We had tables reserved in the Armbrustschützenzelt, one of the most prestigious tents and a great time was had by all!

The lads!

And finally a huge shout out to early birds Angus, Miles and Vinnie who travelled from deepest, darkest Yorkshire to be in Munich for the next few days! We will be joined on Friday evening/Saturday morning by Simon, Sam, Scouse, Euan and Adam probably in that order but we’re not 100% sure. Definitely cannot contain my excitement. This will be the real reunification.