I have written a bit before about the Berg, here in Erlangen. (Here is a three year old article with some good background, and descriptions). Let me just give some quick hit visual impressions, after 3 full days of watching...
1. A couple sitting on a bench, talking softly. Suddenly, she turns and slaps him, hard. His glasses fly off. She stares at him. She gets up, gets his glasses, hands them to him, he puts glasses in pocket. She sits back down. He puts his arm around her, and she snuggles up against him. Another story we'll never know the end of.
2. Two guys standing on a pretty sharp downslope (the "Berg" is not really a mountain, but is a considerable hill, which means not level). Uphill guy is talking pretty animatedly. Downhill guy is looking at him, nodding. Then DH guy quite calmly and placidly leans over and starts puking like a fountain, right on the UH guy's shoes. Except that the UH guy, showing amazing cat-like agility, jumps straight up. The problem with jumping straight up, of course, is that physics requires that you come straight down. UH guy, in mid-air, tries to become the anti-cat, and NOT land on his feet. Except that that means he lands on his butt, in the goo. And slides downhill, taking out DH guy, who is still puking. They start to fight, in a kind of half hearted way. Polizei come over, and separate them, in an even MORE half-hearted way, since both UH and DH guy are puke-covered. They stand up, with their arms out to their sides. The crowd (including me) gives them a rousing ovation, with raucous cheers. This was a much better show than a lot of the stuff people on the midway were paying 1 Euro, or more, to see. Excellent entertainment.
3. Families walking toward the Berg site, little kids overexcited. These carnivals are never as much fun as you hope when you are a little kid. Too expensive, too crowded, and the rides are short and you have to stand in line. But the heartbreak and disappointment have not yet set in, and the little kids are still fired up. One family, dad walking in front with a five year old, mom in back with double stroller, with an infant in the covered part and walking holding hands with a three year old (I'm guessing, but that's pretty close, on age). Dad lets go of five year old's hand, turns to say something to mom, pointing at a ride or something. Five year old, just like the Light Brigade, didn't stop to think that someone had blundered. Walked in a straight line, and runs face first into a telephone pole. No swerving, no avoidance, orders are orders. Kid loses his cute little cap, falls on back, starts screaming. Mom runs up, picks up kid, and starts reaming poor dad a new one. (Angry German women are terrifying. As are angry women of every other human nationality or ethnicity.) All the men walking by shrink back, in terror. All the women walking by are clearly prepared to help out, beating the dad with sticks or rocks, if necessary. And the poor dad is just staring, thinking, "My kid, looking straight ahead, just walked directly into a pole, without trying to avoid it. I wonder if that is really my kid? I guess my uncle Wilhelm was like that, but only when he was drunk." Or something like that. I'm sure that's what he was thinking.
4. People walking toward the Berg, huge rivers of humanity, from DB Banhoff to the entrance, solid. Laughing, talking, pointing. People walking back from the Berg, surly, tired, drunk, pissed off that they didn't have as much fun as they think they should have, and edgy because of the crowds. Yelling stuff at anyone going the opposite direction (as I always seemed to be), cursing. Broken glass absolutely everywhere, as well as puke pockmarks, blast radii of nasty fair food and much too much beer. The problem is that most people can drink 2 liters of beer, and almost no one can drink 3 liters of beer, without puking. Clearly lots of 3 literians in this crowd. A pretty ugly feeling, if you walk around after about 9 pm. So, of course, that is precisely when I spent most of my time walking around, from 9 pm to midnight. On the plus side, I can't complain that no one was talking to each other. The out of town drunk frat boy types were talking to everyone, and even to no one. I saw one skinhead wannabe having an extremely intense conversation with a large tree, about ten meters off the sidewalk. I think he was kidding around, but there was no audience except me, and I left pretty quickly. Better the tree than me.