Annafest 2009

I hate people. Big crowds of them, at least. I tolerate individuals and small groups. Sometimes.

My misanthropy was the deciding factor in arriving at the Annafest early. That and my dislike of waiting to get a beer. Mike and I sat down in Greif Keller just a few minutes behind schedule at 11:12. By 11:13 a scrumptious stein sat on the table between us.

The Annafest has only one annoying feature: litre measures. So we'd come prepared. Mike had a 40 cl glass with him. I decanted some of the Greif Annafest into it. What immediately struck me was its colour. An orangey amber. "Glad it's true to the Märzen style." I quipped. "Not like the stuff they sell at the Oktoberfest."

Time for a confession. My note-taking was rather sparse this time out. I think I did write something about this first beer. Nothing very profound. More along the lines of "full of beery goodness" or "malty, spicy and yummy". You can see why I don't earn a living as a beer writer. But enough of my shortcomings as a wordsmith. Back to the tale.

Food's never far from Mike's mind. "Mmm, currywurst." he said, lust shining from his eyes. "That's not very Bavarian." The next ten minutes - during which he ordered his cross-cultural fastfood and I a more traditional bradwurst - were spent discussing sausages. I know. You wouldn't want to be cornered in a pub by the pair of us. Still, it makes a change from moaning what a bunch of evil wankers the losers who edit wikipedia are.

Rushing your first beer at an event like Annafest is a big mistake. One we didn't make. Well, Mike didn't. The 0.6 of a litre in my stein was soon gone. There was another hour until our first appointmentr. I ordered a second Greif. "I don't need any more beer just yet." "Just as well. Because I don't intend sharing it." My social skills are almost as advanced as my wordy-type ones.

Our first appointment was at 13:00 in the Schindler Keller. It didn't look very open when we got there at ten to. Luckily, it was just nice and empty. Not so luckily, it wasn't selling St. Georgen as I'd expected. Double, treble bum. The beer was Greif. A very pleasant drop, but we'd wanted to try as many different beers as possible. Well, Mike did. I could live with just sticking to a couple of nice ones.

13:00 came and went. Mike started to fidget. Even the waitress in a dirndl didn't distract him, like it usually does. At 13:30 we faced a dilemma. Wait until our next appointment (14:00 to 14:30), or go elsewhere. I'm a lazy git. Sitting comfortably, with a nice beer in front of me, I'm difficult to shift.

At 14:15 Mike said "That looks like Nick". Sure enough, it was. Jim, appointment number 1, had been eating with him in Hoffmanns Keller. Mike wasn't keen, but we decided to join them up the hill. Krug Bräu persuaded me. I'd not had one of their beers before.

Our waitress was a slightly deranged 50-something. "You're not from round here, are you?" I asked. That doesn't sound quite as weird in German. "No, I'm Schwäbisch." That was a bit of a surprise. I can usually spot Schwäbisch accents at a thousand paces. Not understanding a single word is the clue. (My first broken ankle was treated in a Stuttgart hospital. I deciphered barely a word any of the staff uttered. )

Things get a bit blurry after this. I know I tried Neder's Annafest. Also rather nice, but quite pale. I had to knock off a few points for not being true to style. You'd have thought these Germans would have learned how to brew a Märzen by now. Then they get something as basic as the colour wrong.

I think it was after 18:00 when we headed down the Kellerberg. Certainly after the music started. That's sure to drive Mike away. Not totally sure, though. I told you, parts of the day are blurry. Maybe Mike will be able to fill in the gaps. He's much less of a pisshead than me. (I told him he can post his experiences here, too. He asked, actually. It would have been churlish to refuse.)

We ate in a pub I'd not been to before. If I can find a photo, I might even to able to tell you its name [Gaststätte Bräustübl]. I had a schnitzel that covered the plate, squeezing the spuds into a corner. The beer was Wolfshöhe, one of the larger and less exciting Franconian breweries. Not that I can recall the slightest thing about it.

Still, I was in a better state than after my first Annafest visit. Andrew had to hold me up that time. I was having leg problems. You know, when they don't walk in the direction you tell them to.

And that was it for Forchheim. Next: Ebermannstadt. Where slight disappointment was far outweighed by a chance discovery. Read all about it tomorrow.



Gaststätte Bräustübl
Hornschuchallee 32,
91301 Forchheim.
Tel: 09191 15803‎



As an extra special bonus, and to stop him moaning about what I've missed out, Mike has been writing up his impressions of the trip as well. At least what he can remember of it. His memory is worse than mine.

Here's installment number 1:



Mike's Annafest

Perhaps this will come as something of a surprise to some, but Annafest is not a beer festival. While it's origins are religious, it is now a sort of fun festival primarily for children - lots of amusement park rides and more stands selling candy than in the dreams of dentists.

A biergarten, whether in the city or country, generally consists of tables and benches set on the ground (as opposed to floor) with some sort of vegetation growing in the general vicinity. Annafest takes this concept to an extreme: the stands are set in a forest, literally. The forest is on the side of a hill, which means that the beer stands are at different altitudes. The only transport system is the one built into our bodies. For some, this encourages moderation.

Ron made up a guide to Annafest that included 23 stands serving 10 different beers between them. I was eager to try only about five of the 10. Oh, well, there's always next year.

Unlike my previous visit to Annafest, the weather was perfect. Happily, this was to continue for the entire stay in Germany. Beer, sun, grilled meat and near-naked serving girls - what more could one ask for?