|my sister arriving at the entrance to Maifest|
Actually, the atmosphere was goofy. As I walked under the flower-bedecked entrance arch, I heard the corny oompah band playing drinking songs and polkas I know way too well, to the point of being able to sing along a little bit in German. And, with all due respect to my own heritage, there are few sights as silly looking as grown men in lederhosen.
To tell the truth, the highlight of the Maifest for me was the excellent beer wagon. I come by this appreciation honestly. I was born in Munich during Oktoberfest, so I feel I have the right, if not the obligation to partake in quality German beer. However, this was the third day of partying in a row for me (my sister believes in celebrating birthweeks, not days - and who am I to turn her down?), so I wasn't quite up to sampling all five varieties that were being offered. I can vouch for the excellence of the maibock.
At about this time the other members of our party party showed up to join in the festivities. We bypassed all the crafty tables, cut a wide swath around the baked goods booth and headed to the stage to check out the "skinny German juggler". He was indeed skinny and of course dressed in lederhosen, so he had us laughing from the get-go, but his patter was hilarious. And he wasn't a bad juggler, on a unicycle, no less! He was an appropriate embodiment of the event and a good note on which to end our Maifest celebrations . . . and to move on to birthday cake at my house.