the roads of Munich..

..drive me batty. I had every intention today of taking a boring, 6.5 hour Erste-Hilfe Kurs (first-aid course) at the Ostbahnhof, a place I had never visited above ground.

The streets proved a complicated mess while trying to navigate my bike with my hand-written directions taped to my bike lamp. I was under the gun and thus I probably missed a turn or two in the process. I nearly gave up.

Or lets just say I did give up. It’s a common story with me and this city. Sometimes I’m dead on the money and arrive on time, other times I could just shoot myself. I wasn’t entirely lost. It’s just one of those bouts of knowing where you are but not knowing how it relates to where you want to be.

So after consulting my crusty-but-trusty, city-center map, I set out to find the class without further delays and “if I make it- fine, if I don’t- I’ll know how to get there in the next week.” When I arrived at the train station it was easy to spot the course location. Hopes were rejuvenated. But when I walked in, the room was dark and an exacerbated woman just started blabbering at me.

She said she tried getting an instructor but out of her 35 subs, none were reachable. She blamed it on the Oktoberfest. Ach! Blöd-fest! My love for the O-fest diminishes once everyday life is distrupted. The first impression that flashed through my head was that the instructors were getting wasted at the Wiesn’. Later it occurred to me that these poor guys are most likely working their asses off to save the drunken lives of those who can’t handle their beer in a responsible manner.

You know, my friends? It is truly okay not to get yourself all obliterated in one evening. After the 4th Maß (4 liters) in 2 hours, you can’t even taste that good beer you are downing. How is that any fun?

Cheers to you all during your visit at the Oktoberfest. Please don’t make those first-aid volunteers get medieval on your stomachs. Stay within your tolerance. Oh and welcome to the first signs of Autumn season!

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