You're killing me...

Trip Start Apr 29, 2006
Trip End Ongoing

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Flag of Germany  ,
Saturday, July 1, 2006

There should be a law against the selling of 1 euro shots of tequila. A full on fucking ban. Indeed, some towns and cities may have instituted this sensible rule. The town of Bamburg, where we currently collectively nurse a killer hangover, does not. Tales of this night are not for public consumption, for the protection of those other than myself of course, but suffice to say that it is a miracle that we made it back to Vinny Grella's Mum's Vanny Van Van Van alive without the aid of a kebab.

The lack of kebabs on this night has been compensated by extraordinary feats of kebab eating on others. Some have heard and told tales and remarkable individuals, who shall remain nameless, eating up to 5 kebabs in a day. And although most members of Vinny Grella's Mum's Vanny Van Van Van cannot hope to match this marvellous eating display, kebabs remains a staple for us all, due mainly to the fact that they;re the cheapest food going around and are available on every single fucking corner. Every now and then, an alternative food source appears that matches the kebab in price, such as the world cup special noodles in this random chinese place. So, picture me, walking along the quiet Bamburg streets, seeing a random chinese place and, noticing a noodle special, embark on what is widely known as Living the Dream Fist Punch of the Devil of the Death. It was not deserved. Now, maybe I'm just fussy because I'm asian. Or may I just have slightly higher standards because I recently spent a few months in China. But these fucking noodles were the worst thing ever. Ever. And when I say ever, I mean 'ever'. A few tips to the chinese cooks in Germany:
1. Don't use spaghetti as noodles.
2. Do not lather sweet and sour sauce on everything, especially if sweet and sour sauce is not mentioned in the dish title.
3. Don't use fucking spaghetti as noodles.
Now, I'm not normally like this, but the hideousness of these noodles, and my associated outrage compelled me to enlighten the workers of this random chinese place as to rule no 1 - see above.

My impression of Bamburg has not been entirely destroyed by this noodle incident. Bamburg, in accordance with its reputation, has been pretty, the winding cobblestone streets and canals being the cornerstones of its aesthetic quality. Sure we've spent the majority of our time in Bamburg either lost or hungover. In fact, despite the amount of hangover time, its been more about being lost. Getting to the campingplatz? Fucking nightmare. Endless narrow one way streets in the biggest beast of a van ever seen to mankind? Killing us. Several precarious 9 point turns on dead end pedestrian bridges in the biggest beast of a van ever seen to mankind? Average. But whilst not lost, it's been nice just sitting, sampling some of the 200 locally brewed beers, talking shit and watching the town exist. Quite relaxing.

Relaxation in Bamburg has not been a touch on the relaxation and indulgence enjoyed immediately before in Wiesbaden. Indeed, this is how Wiesbaden, at least on the World Cup road trip of the devil of the death, will be remembered. The finest of the Rheingau's Jagerschnitzel and Rose was enjoyed as we overlooked the sweeping vineyards of Germany's Riesling Trail. Reuly the finest meal we have enjoyed in Germany, complete with must needed salad. Many thanks again to Beate, our saviour at a time of dire need. Our time in Wiesbaden was entirely relaxing, partly due to our parking spot on the banks of the Rhine; significantly due to our day at the Thermal Baths. Thermal Baths? Brilliant. Even better when you haven't had access to a shower in 3 days. An account of our time at the Thermal Baths is similar to my account of the baths in Korea - longest shower in the world, thermal pool bathing for eternity, massages in the high pressure jets for forever, and repeat. Awesome. Brilliant. We may have said "Living the Dream" a couple of times.

Well, we've come to the end of the World Cup Road Trip of the Devil of the Death. I'll never forget the emotional parting with Vinny Grella's Mum's Vanny Van Van Van, the sun hidden behind the bleak clouds as the rain sprinkled down lightly over us. Few words were uttered for what could be said. Vinny Grella's Mum's Vanny Van Van Van: we will miss you. I'm sorry we damaged your table and didn't clean you properly. I'm sorry that the socceroos flag on the back never quite came off completely. I'm sorry, generally, about this whole trip.

And so to the Top 5. The road trip being over, I have been thinking about all the crazy things that Germany has thrown up - the simple things that are just killing us because. Seemingly just for fun like it's an enormous practical joke because these things shouldn't be that hard. The Top 5 things on the road trip that just killed us:

5. Deposit on bottles. Killing us.
4. Sausages and bread with no salad. Killing us.
3. Petrol - 1.15 euro/litre ($2/litre). Killing us.
2. Fizzy water everywhere. Normal water nowhere. Killing us.
1. Each other. Killing us.

In Munich for the semi-finals. No english. Brilliant...
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