So I made it out to Wurstfest in New Braunfels on Sunday, and as I left I wondered why I don't go every year. Imagine the state fair but with German beer and polka bands. And no Sooners. I think I actually like the food better at Wurstfest because it's made by local civic organizations and not some shit thrown together by Sodexo or whomever.
All the food booths are located in the Marktplatz, and then right next to it is a giant biergarten called the Wursthalle. They also have a couple of other tents/biergartens with live music.
There are only two rules for Wurstfest. One, shirts and shoes are required for festival patrons. Two, Wurstfest continues rain or shine. Well, there are probably more, but I think these two are the only ones that really matter.
The Wurstkabob. Five different types of sausages and a roll on a skewer. Yes, please.
The cups in which beer is served. Six bucks foreign, four bucks for domestic. I was drinking Paulaner Oktoberfest, but they also had Spaaten and Warsteiner. There were two Real Ale trucks parked near the entrance, but I'll be god damned if I could find any Real Ale on the premises. Ran into Milkman Dan who was holding a pitcher of Oktoberfest in one hand and his daughter in the other. We lightened his load by two cups.
Sweet pretzel. Yeah, I was eating out of order.
Slider. Surprisingly good.
George Romero inspired map and schedule of events. Little zombie children gnawing on intestines sausages.
The German equivalent of a cheerleader outfit for me. A chick puts one of these on, and she instantly becomes hotter.
Bottle caps. Beer battered-fried jalapeno slices. These were like crack but more addictive.
Fried cheesecake.
Fried pickles. Outstanding. Constant line for these.
The specialty beer stand.
Walking in to the sounds of the ubiquitous polka music.
Polka band playing Bob Wills' 'San Antonio Rose' in the Wursthalle. Heard another band in one of the tents playing Freddie Fender's 'Before the Next Teardrop Falls.' Texas, imo.
Polka Band singing Lee Greenwood's 'Proud to be an American.' It was horrifying, yet I could not look away. So you assholes will suffer with me.
Walking through the Marktplatz.
Walking to the truck in the rain with a pink Spy Museum umbrella. Don't ask. And the chick in front of us was wearing an Appetite for Destruction shirt. So I had to film her. If you have to ask why, the terrorists have already won.