The Sound Hits You First
It’s not the beer. Not at first. It’s the noise — a wall of brass band music, clinking glass, and ten thousand people singing a song you don’t know the words to but somehow feel compelled to join. Oktoberfest opens on September 21, 2026, and for the next 16 days until October 6, Munich’s Theresienwiese becomes something between a village fair, a beer cathedral, and a very well-organized party for six million people.
I should say upfront: Oktoberfest is genuinely overwhelming. It’s also genuinely worth it, if you go in with your eyes open.
Choosing Your Tent (This Matters More Than You Think)
Munich’s six major breweries each operate their own massive beer tent, and picking the right one basically sets the tone for your entire day. The Augustiner-Festhalle draws a more local crowd — families, older couples, people who’ve been coming for decades. The beer is gravity-poured from wooden casks, which the regulars will tell you makes a difference. Whether it actually does, I’m honestly not sure, but the atmosphere is calmer and somehow more authentic.
The Hofbräu-Festzelt is the opposite end of the spectrum. It’s where most international visitors end up, and by mid-afternoon it’s basically a standing-room concert where beer is the admission ticket. Hacker-Pschorr’s Himmel der Bayern (Heaven of Bavarians) has a retractable ceiling that opens to the sky on warm days, which is a nice touch. Löwenbräu, Paulaner, Spaten — they each have their loyalists.
The thing nobody tells you: you don’t just walk into a tent and sit down. Not on weekends, anyway. Tables are reserved months in advance by companies, clubs, and regulars who’ve held the same spots for years. Walk-in seating exists, but the window is narrow.
Getting In (The Unglamorous Part)
Weekdays before 10 AM. That’s the answer to ‘how do I get a seat without a reservation,’ and it’s not very exciting advice, but it’s true. Saturday afternoons are essentially impossible unless you know someone. Friday evenings fill by early afternoon.
Entry to the Theresienwiese grounds is free — there’s no admission ticket. You just walk in. The cost hits when you sit down: a Mass (one-liter mug) runs about €14-15 these days, and you need to be seated to order one. Roasted half-chicken (Hendl) is around €15, a pork knuckle (Schweinshaxe) roughly the same. Pretzels are cheaper but somehow still cost more than seems reasonable for bread and salt.
One practical note: cash is still heavily used in the tents. Some have started accepting cards, but don’t count on it. ATMs near the grounds charge fees and have long queues.
What to Wear (Yes, It Actually Matters)
About two-thirds of attendees wear traditional Bavarian clothing — Lederhosen for men, Dirndl for women. You absolutely don’t have to, but you’ll feel slightly out of place in jeans by mid-afternoon when the entire tent is a sea of embroidered leather and checkered patterns.
Renting is an option if you don’t want to invest. There are shops all over Munich’s city center that do rentals starting around €40-50 for a basic setup. Buying a decent Lederhosen starts at maybe €150 and goes up steeply from there. The cheap costume-shop versions from Amazon are recognizable from across the tent — locals have opinions about this.
One thing worth knowing: the bow on a Dirndl is tied on the left if you’re single, right if you’re taken, center if you’re a virgin, and at the back if you’re widowed or a waitress. Whether anyone actually pays attention to this in 2026 is debatable, but it comes up in conversation constantly.
Beyond Beer: The Fairground Nobody Talks About
Oktoberfest has one of Europe’s largest traveling funfairs attached to it, and it gets weirdly overlooked in most guides. There are roller coasters, a giant Ferris wheel, haunted houses, and a thing called the Teufelsrad (Devil’s Wheel) where volunteers sit on a spinning wooden disc while operators try to knock them off. It’s been running since 1910 and it’s exactly as ridiculous as it sounds.
The food stalls outside the tents are worth exploring too — candied almonds, roasted chestnuts, grilled fish on a stick (Steckerlfisch), and various things-on-sticks that you’d never eat sober but seem perfect after your third Mass.
The Opening and the Parades
Opening day is September 21, and the ceremonial keg-tapping by Munich’s mayor — ‘O’zapft is!’ (It’s tapped!) — is the moment everyone waits for. The current record is two strikes. Some mayors have needed more. The crowd counts every blow.
Before the tapping, there’s a parade of horse-drawn brewery wagons through the city that’s genuinely impressive even if you’re not a parade person. The first Sunday (September 27) brings the Trachten- und Schützenzug — over 9,000 participants in traditional regional dress from across Bavaria and Austria. It runs for about seven kilometers and takes a couple hours to pass.
Getting to Munich
Franz Josef Strauss Airport (MUC) has direct connections to most major European cities and quite a few intercontinental routes. Flights during Oktoberfest weeks are predictably more expensive — booking a few months ahead helps. You can compare routes on KIWI.COM, which is useful for finding indirect routings that sometimes save a surprising amount.
From the airport, the S-Bahn takes about 40 minutes to the city center. From there, the U4 or U5 line drops you at Theresienwiese station, which is literally at the entrance. On peak days the trains are packed, but Munich’s public transport handles the load reasonably well.
If you’re thinking of exploring outside Munich — Neuschwanstein, the Bavarian Alps, Salzburg is just across the border — renting a car through Europcar makes sense. Just don’t drive to the festival grounds. Parking is a nightmare, and you shouldn’t be driving after anyway.
For activities and day trips in the area, GetYourGuide has some guided Oktoberfest experiences that include reserved tent seating — which, as mentioned, is the hard part to get on your own.
Accommodation: Book Now or Pay Later
This is not an exaggeration: Munich hotels during Oktoberfest are some of the most expensive in Europe. A mid-range hotel that’s normally €120/night can easily hit €300-400. Prices within walking distance of Theresienwiese are even worse.
The practical move is staying 2-3 S-Bahn stops out — places like Pasing, Laim, or even further toward Starnberg. The transport runs late during Oktoberfest, and you’ll save enough on the room to cover a lot of beer. Booking through Trip.com or checking Airbnb alternatives early (like, now) is strongly recommended.
Some people camp. There’s a campsite called ‘The Tent’ (yes, really) that does basic dorm-style accommodation for budget travelers. It books up too.
The Part Where I’m Honest
Oktoberfest is loud, crowded, and by evening the bathrooms are a situation. People get very drunk. The combination of one-liter mugs and tourists who underestimate Bavarian beer strength (typically 5.8-6.3% ABV — stronger than most regular lagers) leads to predictable outcomes. The medical tents treat thousands of people over the festival.
It’s also touristy in the way that the most famous version of anything is touristy. Locals have complicated feelings about it. Some love it, some avoid it entirely, most land somewhere in the middle.
But there’s a reason it’s been running since 1810, and it’s not because of good marketing. There’s something about being in a tent with a thousand strangers, brass band playing, everyone swaying to ‘Ein Prosit,’ that works on a level that’s hard to explain in writing. You kind of have to be there.
The last morning, walking through Theresienwiese before the cleaning crews have fully cleared the grounds — that weird quiet after two weeks of noise — is oddly one of the best parts. Or maybe I just like the peace after the storm. Either way. Prost.
