SALZBURG, Austria – So many things have happened here that I don’t know where to start.

So, let’s start at the very beginning …

The plane rides were uneventful. The adventure started only after that.

My friend Kristen and I flew together, and our luggage took a long time to appear at baggage claim.

We got to the regional train without any problems, but then we had to go to a platform that didn’t have an elevator. Carrying our pounds and pounds of luggage up two flights of stairs was a blast.

But what was even better was when we got on the train and no one helped us. And everyone had their own luggage splayed across the aisle, so we were forced to stand in the entryway for 40 minutes until enough people exited the train.

Fortunately, though, some Austrian friends met us in Salzburg and helped with our baggage.

All of that pales in comparison to the events of the next day.

We went to Oktoberfest. The original Oktoberfest, in Munich, Germany. We didn’t know what to expect.

This celebration is ridiculous and is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

Basically, it’s like a big county or state fair with food stands and exhibition halls, except at Oktoberfest, all the food stands sell brats, chicken, fish, pretzels, gingerbread cookies and nuts, and the exhibition halls are 14 beer tents, each with its own theme, atmosphere and beer.

Our jaws dropped when we entered our first tent: Hofbraeu Festzelt.

These tents aren’t the flimsy kind used at graduation parties and outdoor weddings. These tents are real buildings a couple stories tall, filled with long wooden tables and a stage for a band.

The waiters and waitresses can carry up to 12 beers at one time. They walk around selling pretzels and sandwiches, and they blow whistles to get the customers to move out of their way.

The band is an integral part of the experience.

Roughly every five to 10 minutes, the bands would play Oktoberfest’s anthem. The words go like this: ‘Ein Prosit, ein Prosit der Gemuetlichkeit,’ or ‘A toast, a toast to coziness.’

The word Gemuetlichkeit is traditionally used to describe a place where there’s belonging, where you can spend quality time and where there’s public festivity with drink, food and music.

That is exactly what Oktoberfest is.

After singing that line, everyone would make a toast with their neighbors, even if you didn’t know each other, because you were there to have a good time.

It was so strange comparing those first two days.

The Germans wouldn’t help us on the train to Salzburg, but step onto the Wiesn, the Oktoberfest grounds, and everyone is friends.

We stood on table benches in the Hacker-Festzelt tent with people we’d never met before, toasting with them, talking with them and singing (usually American songs) with them.

It really doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

But then it’s Oktoberfest, where everything is a little crazy.