Hallo!

Munich is one of the locations I wanted to visit most. I've heard many great things about Germany in general, and so many people told me that if I do anything in Europe, go to Munich. Just by driving through it to get to our campsite, I knew it was going to be outrageously awesome. Everything from the grass, trees and lakes to the buildings, parks and people were all beautiful (ESPECIALLY the people, wooooooah!). On the way to the campsite, Jodie passed around a little container full of 'beer lollies', basically little jelly-like lollies shaped as steins. They tasted awful, but they definitely heightened my excitement. We drove past three old guys that were having an afternoon drink on a park bench, and it's just about the coolest thing I've ever seen. Unlike Australia, the German's don't have a drinking problem. Although consuming considerably more beer each year than Australians (both by total litres and per capita), I believe German's don't have anywhere near as big a problem with public drunkenness and drunken rage as Australians. Because of this, drinking in public is banned in Australia, and far from banned in Germany. These bad-boys sitting on the park bench were insanely cool and I wanted to jump off the bus and go and have a public beer with them, but unfortunately, I would have died as the bus was in full motion.



Arriving at the campsite, we discovered you have to pay for hot water by obtaining tokens from the reception, and then shoving them in the machine in the shower. Strange folk these camp-ground owners. After a little stroll, we discovered these champions having a surf in the weir. It looked like an extreme sport and also looked bloody dangerous, but it was great fun to watch, and I wanted to run down there and have a go myself, but if these looked like they were struggling, I would have died for sure. I must commend them for their perseverance, working with what they have. Of what I understand of German geography, Munich is a bloody long way from the beach, so waves are definitely hard to come across.



Before long, we were getting ourselves ready for a massive night at the beer halls of Munich, known worldwide. With my brown pants I bought from Prague in hand, I rocked out a somewhat German looking getup and we hit up the bus and were on our way. On arrival, we were the only group in the hall, but were informed there were another 3 Contiki groups on their way to join us. On the stage were two legends - One with a keyboard and one with a trumpet. They went on to perform for most of the night. As we sat down, we were all given menu's. 3/4 of the menu was taken up by beer choices and with a stein included, it was only natural that I smashed that bad-boy up straight away. Down the very bottom were the dinner options. It was a choice of fried cheese with a salad, chicken schnitzel with chips or a traditional pork knuckle with potato and some cabbage stuff on the side. Due to the sensational sounding of this succulent serving, I quite obviously went for the pork knuckle. It was 100 times better than what I imagined it would be. The liquid gold in my stein was also magical beyond belief.



Not all of the dish was as good as I make it out to be though. You see that little ball thing on the plate? Yes, that's supposed to be the potato. This thing was bloody awful and I almost emptied my stomach contents on the table trying to eat it. I have no idea what they done to the potato to make it like this, but I never want to eat it like that again. It was squidgy and didn't fall apart like normal potato. When trying to cut it, the knife would just press down into it and change it's shape, shortly after springing back to it's original ball shape. It reminded me of trying to cut a sponge or a stress ball with a butter knife. The chewing process was much the same, like trying to eat a stress ball, and to swallow it, I felt it run all the way down to the food tank and it was revolting. Maybe it was something to do with the starch or something? I don't know, but it had also turned a yellow colour, not exactly appealing either.



Throughout the evening the we learnt a few cool songs where you stand up and at the end you all smash your glasses together. I felt like a man singing this song, especially at the end when you yell "PRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOSSSST". Everyone in the beer hall was just as drunk and rowdy as me, so I could be as boisterous as I wanted, it was awesome and one of the best experiences in my life. To say cheers in German depends on the situation. I guess in a drunk, rowdy and beer-drinking mood, you say/bellow ‘prost‘, but maybe in a smaller quieter setting (maybe rich people having a few fake laughs over how much money they can waste with some expensive champagne) you would say ‘zum wohl‘. The list goes on, and in these situations, I just like having cheers for all occasions.



Just as we thought the night couldn’t get any better, four German ladies dressed in the stereotypical Bavarian dress - the dirndl - came out and danced, sang, played songs for us using only different sized bells and the one with the biggest boobs played the glockenspiel using two wooden spoons. I mention the boob bit because I assume that was the point of playing the thing, no-one in the hall was watching her hands. I swear that one of those babies was going to fall out the way they were flopping around. When I thought that was dangerous enough, one of the other German ladies started a clap, and she gradually made the clap faster and faster, henceforth the more violent the boob shaking became. Jesus!



And then! Just as I thought I’d almost officially made this one of the best nights in my life, the four ladies walked out into the audience (Of about 150 people) and each picked someone to go on stage. Being dressed in the clothes I decided to wear, I stuck out a bit, and the oldest of the ladies (I assume she was like the leader) walked up to me and took me on to the stage. I was well on my way to being a mess from the beer and I didn’t really realise what had happened until I was on the stage looking out over everyone. A wave of adrenalin and excitement went over me, but I wasn’t really looking forward to what I may have non-consensually volunteered for. She leant over and gave me a wink and then started going through the dance moves. It was the chicken dance. Before long, the music had started and the 8 of us at the front we ripping the dance apart. It was insanely fun and I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. Toward the end of the song (This seems like a very German thing to do in music apparently) it sped up, to a ridiculous speed, but yet the crowd kept clapping faster. Thankfully, just as my legs were about to fall off, the song stopped. I bid farewell to my new dance partner and returned to my place in the audience. A sensational night out, but it still had not ended. After some further dancing, stein consuming and yelling out PROST in our manliest voices, it was time to pack it up and head off into town.



For anyone who’s been to Munich, or knows anything of it, you probably know of Hofbrauhaus. It’s the most popular, and I think the biggest beer hall in Munich. To give testament to it’s size, as soon as we got through the doors, we took 10 steps and our group of 30+ people was separated into about 5 smaller groups. Our small group had a stein, and decided to go for a walk. It turns out there were multiple floors to this monstrosity and the rest of our group were up the top. Comparing the earlier beer hall to Hofbrauhaus, the earlier one was obviously no-where near as popular. Firstly because I can’t even remember the name, and second, there was only one hall. At Hofbauhaus, there were people EVERYWHERE, and not just Australians either, the people there were from all over the world. Although it was brilliant to go and see, I don’t think I would return any time soon. It was overcrowded, too loud and far too touristy. The first one we went to seemed far more homely and I could imagine more locals going to that one rather than Hofbrauhaus (If the locals even go to the beer halls). After one more stein, it was time for some of us to go home. After a disgusting amount of steins, I was rather sleepy and had to smash up some rest before a big day in the city the next day.



Waking up the next morning, we smashed up the city with full force. For 30 euro we could have taken part in a cycle around the city. I figured I was definitely going to make a return trip to Munich, so decided to not bother with the cycling tour and just hang with the povo gang. After some crappy German coffee and a failed attempt at buying some German bread (Real bread as they call it) we hit up some local markets to try some awesome German food. We walked down one street and of the 15 shops that were on it, about 14 were butchers. These Munich folk absolutely love their meat apparently. There were all sorts of sausages, steaks and chops in here and they all looked sensational. Due to no cooking facilities, there really wasn’t any point in buying any of it…Sighhhh. After a short walk around the little markets, we decided to go and see the most touristy attraction of Munich, the old glockenspiel. Basically, it’s attached to a massive clock in a massive tower and goes off at 5 past every hour (I’m pretty sure) and there are MASSIVE flocks of tourists that go to watch it ever hour. It seemed that there were 1,000 people watching, but 1,500 cameras. The Asian tourists bloody love photographic evidence. Of every tourist attraction I’ve ever come across in the world, this by far is the most overrated. It’s an old crappy, rusty piece of waste of time with not even enough history to make it worthwhile.



After watching 12 minutes of boredom, we decided to go and finalise our costumes for the big dress up party that going to be in another couple nights. Munich has this gigantuous second hand store full of all sorts of goodies. On the way there, we saw a heap of people that were supposed to be on the cycle tour, but had bailed due to the American host being an absolute dick. By complaining to Tara, they’d hoped that he’s lose his job. I’m pretty bloody happy I didn’t sing up for it.

Walking into this second hand store. We were overwhelmed. Two storeys of complete and utter awesomeness. After spending about an hour searching for that “special something”, we all made off with a happy purchase. I tried to try on a couple little one pieces including swimsuits, leotards and although not one piece, still incredibly hot corsets. All of these I wouldn’t have minded if they were tight, but as much I persisted, the little bastards just wouldn’t fit, and so in the end I ended up with a pair of tights that managed to reach up to my arm pits. I think they were actually made for a giant, but fit pretty well on me if I wore them the wrong way.



After having another massive stroll through the city and trying to find Benjamin a button, it was time to jump back on the coach and head off to the old Dachau concentration camp. The drive there was similar to when we were driving to Gallipoli in the sense that everyone had stopped for a while to just reflect and think about where we were actually going.

On arrival, we viewed a film that gave us a better idea of what happened in the camp in regards to the sleeping and working arrangements, the torture, the gas chambers and just the general history of it all. It was a pretty rough movie to watch and although I didn’t see it, a heap of people from Contiki told me that there was some girl sitting there texting on her phone throughout the entire film. If I’d have seen that, I think I would have gone off, is it so hard for someone to take out 10 minutes from their oh-so-busy sociable life to have some bloody compassion and learn something about the world. I guess to some people it’s just another thing to cross off their list of touristy things to do. A concentration camp to me is not a touristy thing to just take pictures of, but rather something of a bit more importance you go to because you actually want to.

Having a walk around the camp we saw the gas chambers and the original and later, more used furnaces. I’d taken a wrong turn and found myself in a church. After everything that happened there, seeing this church made me pretty happy. I guess it’s another step in rebuilding a better future for the Germans, rather than staying in the past and everyone remembering Germany for what happened in the war.

When we had all had enough, we set off back to camp only to find that one poor old chap had his laptop and iPhone stolen from his tent. With this news, everyone ran to their tent to check their belongings. I heard of a few others who’s neatly packed bags had been emptied all over their tents, but due to having no expensive stuff (good move) the thief had moved on. A day earlier, I’d misplaced my padlock and therefore had to leave my stuff just floating around the tent - laptop and passport were my main worries. By some divine miracle, and probably because we’d managed to put our tent in the crappiest position in the campsite, the thief had apparently decided to skip ours. Thank the good bloody lord. All my blogs and pictures were on it, and if they were gone, I wouldn’t be a happy chap.

No-one was in a particular mood to have a big night out, so we decided to throw a Frisbee, kick a ball and have dinner in the rain. Shortly after it was time to cark it a bit earlier than usual, for me, to reflect on everything I’d seen, for others, maybe different reasons. There are times on the trip (Belfast and Gallipoli for starters) where the party stops and you have to hit the big ass wall of reality, face what has happened and remember that life isn’t always bliss in the world and today was another one of those days. It’s not complete sorrow and sympathy, because I remembered of how lucky I am to have not being born in any of those periods of time or in those countries less fortunate. To be able to reflect, rather than live in that moment I’m definitely grateful for. I won’t get too much deeper than that as it’s a thing for me better faced individually.

In the next addition I’ll cover Lauterbrunnen and Jungfrau mountain in Switzlerland, a return journey to Germany when we visit Heidelberg and our grand finale and the destination you’re all probably looking forward to hearing about - Amsterdam in the beautiful country of Holland, or The Netherlands as the locals prefer it to be known.

I’ll catch you bad-booooyyyyzzz on the flippers!

Ahoj!

As promised in the previous blog, here is the new blog delivered a little sooner.

We go forth now to Czech Republic, more specifically Prague, the capital of this awesome country and home to our coach driver Dave. Since the start of the tour, I'd wondered if everyone in Prague was going to be like Dave, because let's be honest, he's a little odd old Davie boy. Everyone who's ever had a conversation with him will tell you how awkward the conversation becomes after about 2 seconds. In fact, as soon as his gaze meets yours, you feel awkward because you know he's going to come over and have an awkward conversation with you. He's not a creepy or a bad person in any sense...Just a little different. Understanding Dave is impossible. You pick up every third or fourth word, and those words are usually "The, a, sometimes, eh, ahh, I, went, go" etc... So the major parts of the conversation are missing. Basically to keep it flowing, you look at him blankly while he talks and then every now and then he will laugh at something he said and you laugh along with it and he loves it. After some discussion with the rest of the group, I found out I wasn't alone in those situations. He's a nice enough chap, but it's draining trying to talk with him.




Before Prague, we stopped in at an awesome little village-type town called Cesky Krumlou for some lunchies. There was a massive castle and all the streets were made of cobblestone. It didn't seem like a popular tourist spot due to the lack of souvenir shops and the masses of non-commercial pubs and cafes. I had two objectives in mind for our time here. I needed some Czech Koruna (There are 17 to the Australian Dollar) and more importantly, I needed a fat feed. A few of us found a pub that sold Schnitzels with chips for 99 Koruna, and to some smelly campers, that sounded pretty good. Finally, we'd reached a beer country, and it lived up to it's name. I assume you've all heard of Budweiser, and if you have, I have the impression that the first thing that comes to mind is the US. Budweiser is the most widely consumed beer in Czech Republic, but it's the real stuff. The U.S bought the name and made it famous...They also turned it to shit. In this little pub we were served this beer in Budweiser glasses and our hearts sank. For so long we were looking forward to a good beer and to see this name, we were distraught. At the first sip though, we were pleasantly surprised, and at first we'd thought they'd just given us the wrong beer, or the wrong glass. Later we were to learn about the history of Budweiser and that what we were drinking was in fact the real and original recipe brewed right there in Czech Republic. Our Schnitzel was also indeed a marvel.



By the time we'd fished out an ATM, devoured our schnitzels and drained out Budweiser glasses, we discovered it was time to go. One of the down-falls of Contiki surely for everyone is the lack of time we are allowed in each city and town. I could have easily spent a week in this little town, but as we were only here for lunch, we had to get back on the coach and part with the new beloved. A return destination definitely.



Back on the coach, we were on the road again and before long we'd arrived in Prague. On the books before our campsite was a little walking tour hosted by Tara. We were definitely in the more historic part of town, and it was pretty far out from the city centre, so I'm glad we covered this section on this day. The place was full of churches, monuments and intriguing characters. By this stage of the trip, we'd developed a great ability to sleep on the coach, and more importantly, wake up on demand and be in sight-seeing mood as soon as we departed the coach.

After the historical sector, we made our way further into the city and found these bad boys:



Basically, some artist decided it would be an awesome idea to chuck these fellas on the middle of the street as a piece of art. I like it and I think it's a great idea. The aim of the artist was to lighten the mood of everyone as the city was going through a time of depression of some kind (I can't quite remember the story, but everyone was in a pretty miserable mood). On a little plaque next to the work there was a mobile number. You text a word to the number and the chaps pee out the word for you. The whole time they seemed to be spelling out words, so I don't know how long the queue was for our word to be written in pee form, but we gave up and off we went.



We also encountered the skinniest official street in Czech Republic. A large man wouldn't be able to fit down it, and it even had it's own set of traffic lights.



Shortly after, we walked across some famous bridge. I can't remember anything about it, but on it were the creepiest, strangest and most intriguing people I've ever come across in my life. People on this bridge wore eye patches, or didn't have eyes, or had eyes with no iris colour. It was creepy and long and everyone was death staring us as we walked across. It was a bizarre sensation. On the other side of the bridge, we met up with Tara again, and she walked us through the city centre and onto the coach and finally, we made our way to the campsite.

After a setting up our tents in the rain and spreading mud everywhere, I had a cold shower and we proceeded to have soup and curry for dinner. Shortly after, the majority of us decided to have a sober night and carked it for the evening.

Early the next morning we all jumped on the public bus to make our way into the city again. On arrival, the chaps and myself wasted no time in making our way to the markets. As usual, I grabbed myself some Strawbs and the lads went off to get their country-coloured friendship bracelets. In a couple nights time, a dress up party was taking place. There was no particular theme, as long as it was something that you bought while on the Contiki tour, so we had to find something to dress up in. We found a second hand shop and in we went. Here we learnt that there is a vast difference between an OP shop and a second hand shop. Second hand store owners raid the OP shops for all the cool stuff, and then sell it for just under regular price. Since finding out we went to Germany I wanted to find some brown pants for an awesome German-looking getup I had in mind. I found the brown pants and Amanda found a deadly skirt and looking at the time, it was time for lunch.

Our arranged lunch took place on a little river cruise boat and was another one of these buffet style lunches. It also came with a two free beers. Needless to say, I absolutely smashed that buffet and felt pretty sick afterwards from eating so much, but with the night we had planned ahead, I think it was a good idea.

Getting off the boat, most of us had the same idea. We’d been told stories of a museum Prague is famous for. At this point of the trip, museums were getting pretty old, no matter how fascinating and intriguing the inside was. Museums now just made me tired and all I would think about was how sore my feet were. Pathetic, I know, but such effects are the dark downside to such a full on tour. This museum on the other hand was much different, it was a sex museum. Everything possibly related to sex, was here in this museum. On the first floor, everything started out pretty tame with items such as old school lingerie and the first porn movies ever made. These movies were awesome and reminded me of the old rag-time piano western movies. Playing in the background was piano, and there was no dialogue, but it was easy to get the gist of what the scenario was supposed to be. Made in 1925, the movie we were watching was about some rich guy who had a butler and a couple maids. When their work was done they all decided to have some sex, and then they got caught by the rich guy’s wife, so she joined in etc…Being made in the ‘20s, obviously there weren’t big names in the porn industry, so the director had to make do where he could by hiring prostitutes from the street and using them as the stars. Everything about the video was awkward and none of them quite knew what to do, understandably, it wasn’t as if they had a template or inspiration to work off.



Another floor up, we found ourselves in a very new realm, a realm I didn’t know existed in the world of sex. Walking up the stairs, we noticed a massive screen that had pictures of a heap of fetish’s…Some of them really bewildered me. Sploshing, as a brilliant example, is the fetish which involves covering oneself or another with a substance that varies among all who partake. Some of the more popular substances include chocolate, honey and cream, but can stretch out to more outrageous things like wax, faeces, mud and even blood. Moving on through the floor we saw all kinds of toys, a wall full of various ways to pierce your special bits and a room full of sexual furniture and chastity tools. Among some of the worst included a ring that is fitted to the penis, and has sharp, barbed metal piece sticking into it. While flaccid, the penis is fine, but when erect, the barbed metal stabs in and causes severe discomfort. In the furniture section, there was a thing called the golden shower throne. A girl sits on the chair which has a hole in the middle, and under the hole it a little mattress where a man can lay down and watch…So, basically it’s a chair where a girl pees in some guys face. I could go on and on about this floor, it was brilliant, strange and eye-opening.



On the 3rd and final floor, we stepped into a very uncomfortable place, we stepped into the world of latex, bondage and all things cringe-worthy. Some of the things people put themselves through are truly bizarre and quite frankly, I’m positive I could continue living life without the need or urge to ever know any more about the world of bondage. Also on this floor were these things called stretchers. Basically, stretchers are these massive rubber cones. They sit on the ground, and people (Mainly gay men I assume) then sit on them. The further down they sit on them, the further it stretches…I’m sure I don’t have to say any more.

Finally, we made it out, everything intact, but a lot more educated. From here, it was time for a beer, and quite naturally, the best place to go seemed to be the beer factory. Walking down the stairs of the beer factory, it was nothing what I thought it would be. There were no vats or casks, but instead a heap of tables with taps in the middle. On the wall was a massive projected screen with a score board. How it works is that you sit down at a table and each table has four taps, each with a different beer. Every time you pour a beer, your score goes up for how many litres your table has had. Needless to say, it ends up in a race and you end up drinking a lot of beer. Bloody good idea from the owners to make some money.

Ben's first effort at pouring a beer.



I found absinthe on the menu and since I’d never had it before, I gave it a crack. It was a most peculiar way to drink it and it was worthy paying the money just to watch the bar tender prepare it. Despite losing probably half of the alcohol, it looked magnificent. With a sprinkle of cinnamon, the chap behind the bar lit the absinthe on fire briefly before pouring it into another glass and then suffocating it extinguishing the flame. The smoke/gas residue was collected in one glass and napkin was placed over it to prevent it’s escape and the other glass was given to me. I drank the shot and then the bar tender put a straw through the napkin and I was told to inhale the whatever if was that was left over. I don’t know if it had any more effect or provided any more to my drunkenness, but it wasn’t at all pleasant. The chap who spewed out of the taxi in the previous blog was looking awfully sober, so I took him to the bar, and we both proceeded to have the same monstrosity. As soon as he reached the straw stage, his stomach contents projectiled all over the bar. It was magnificent!

After leaving the beer factory, we met up with the entire tour at an Irish pub and I proceeded to have some more Absinthe (Cheapest shot in the bar!) but in a different form again. I had it once as just simple down the throat, and twice using the flame and sugar method which involved a spoonful of sugar which is soaked in absinthe, alit and when caramelised, stirred into the absinthe in the glass and then finally consumed. Why are there so many ways of drinking the stuff?

Later in the night, everyone made their way to a 5 storey night club that had different music in every level. Of all the night clubs I’ve ever been to, this one was probably the best. This isn’t because it was massive, or because all my Contiki friends were there, it was because there was an entire floor dedicated to “Oldies” music. It was gorgeous and everyone had their own crazy ridiculous dance styles and I knew and liked every song. There were plenty of old cronies around, but there were the fair share of young ones too and at one point in the evening, some guy started a conga line. We joined in and it would have been at least 50 people long, and the conga line danced its way through every floor of the club. It was brilliant!



When I started getting tired and realised I should probably get back to camp, there were only three other people left in the club that I knew, out of the 30 that were there at the start, so it was definitely time to head back. Prague taxi drivers are crooked and every one of them tried to rip us off. After declining 4 or 5 taxis who were trying to charge us AUD$100+, we found one guy that would take us back to the campsite for a somewhat reasonable price. After 4 hours sleep in the wrong tent, it was time to wake up and head off again on the great European road. This time, our new destination was Munich in Germany.

More 50 cent toilet passes and fantastic beer to come.

Nashle!

Austria - Vienna

Hey-low, it's just me again.

Like the previous few blogs, it's taken me ages to finish. I apologise profusely for the delay. As much as I would like to make up an excuse for my lack of contact, I can only put it down to laziness.

As mentioned in the previous blog - We go now onwards to Vienna.

Although that was our path, the plan wasn't to go straight there. Luckily for us, we managed to be able to stop for some grub in a quaint city full of lovely people known as Bratislava, situated in the beautiful country of Slovakia. This is the first of many countries that remind us that we are no longer in Eastern Europe. One of the biggest hints were the schnitzels that cost about AUD$20, rather than the more cheaper meals (Around $5) we were smashing down in countries like Turkey and Macedonia. Because of this, a couple of the chaps and myself settled for some cheap pizza sold to us by our first experience of Slovakian people. The owners of this little pizza shop were insanely friendly and had the lady who served us had the most warming smile I'd seen on the trip. Tara told us of the strange statues you can find in Bratislava, and I loved them! In the most bizarre places, shapes and sizes, they were everywhere throughout the city. Here are some examples:

Somehow, Andy and myself managed to lose everyone, and so we took to the streets outside the central city walls which enclosed the tourist traps. Outside the city walls, the city was a different place, but still just as awesome. After buying some strawbs off a champion old Slovakian woman who didn't speak a word of English, but had a conversation with us anyway, we set off for a walk through the unknown. After an aimless stroll through some awesome garden, we came across a group of about 40 Slovakian students, each no older than 21 years old. They were making a massive amount of noise and if they weren't so colourful and happy, it would have been annoying. Screaming and yelling, playing trumpets, kazoo's and drums and carrying around a massive board with pictures of themselves with big colourful words in their language, it was rather hard to miss them and we had to ask what the go was. On closer inspection, we noticed in their hands a little top hat full of coins and at first I was mistaken they were having a massive busk session, involving everyone. We arrived to the scene close enough for them to notice us, and we must have fit into their culture pretty well, because they spoke to us for a couple minutes before they realised the blank look on our faces. Moments later, I could have sworn they were Australian. They had all mastered English perfectly, slang and all and had even managed to match our accents beyond belief. It turns out they were a class of uni students who had just finished exams and were looking for funds to support their piss-up that evening. Who could say no! Andy threw them a couple euro, which all Contiki travellers will know, goes a BLOODY long way in terms of getting drunk.

Just before leaving, we found Jodie, Kylie and Kate, a troublesome trio. They'd managed to find a cheap kite and didn't waste any time in snatching it up. After some Slovakian ice cream, we took to the bus and were well on our to Vienna once again. Like almost all of Europe, the landscape was gorgeous, and after a morning spent sleeping on the aisle floor, I was well and truly awake to appreciate all Slovakia had to offer. It was long though before we reached Austria, and you could definitely tell we'd changed countries at our service stop. It seems that all German-speaking countries have this little system with their service station toilets. You shove 70 cents into the machine, and it lets you pass through to the toilet. You have to remember to take the little ticket it gives you though. All I could understand on the ticket was "50". After you're finished your business, you take this little 50 ticket to the counter of the food place, and you get 50 cents off your purchase, so in theory, your toilet usage was only 20 cents...but in the end, you're still at least 70 cents shorter. Bloody bastards make you think that you've saved money by using the toilet...

Every time we used a public toilet in Europe, we had to squeeze more out than just liquid. You had to make the money that you spent worth it. You'd be surprised what you can get rid of when you've paid for it.

Before we got into the campsite, we stopped in at Venice and had a little look around at some place that had a zoo, a massive garden, heaps of little tourist shops and heaps of those shops that sell them creepy little porcelain or wooden puppets. I think there was a big castle or something too, but I didn’t quite get there. A small group of us managed to find a hedge maze! It was brilliant, I can’t remember ever going into one of them. It was actually a good one too, you couldn’t see over the hedges and it took us ages to get out. Once we did get out, we found another one, a bigger one and so we decided to finish that one too before we left. Halfway through the maze, it started to rain…Like REALLY rain, smashing down. The drops in Vienna are HUGE, they’re like little water bombs. If you look up and they hit your eye, it bloody hurts! Anyway, in the end I realised that the only thing more exciting than hedge mazes, are hedge mazes in the cold rain. The struggle to get out is so much more desperate.



After escaping the rain, we finally made our way to the campsite, which was cool enough. On arrival, Benjamin and myself were the last to get off the coach, and therefore there was only one spot for a tent left...The one where a half-decomposed rat and a broken glass bottle were making their home. It was winy too. Bloody windy. Now I understood why Jodie had bought the kite. Like always, we were in a rush and had to set up the tents as quickly as possible. 10 minutes allowance afterwards to have a shower and get changed. For a guy? Piss easy. In, out, half dry and rip the clothes on. The girls struggled and brought half their clothes on the bus and had to apply make up on the way. On the way to where you ask? It was time to turn back to our children years and forget all responsibilities - We were on our way to Vienna’s famous amusement park.

On arrival, we decided to start off with something a bit slower, and ease ourselves into the park. It was just a reeeeeaaaally tall pole with a heap of chairs on chains attached that spun around. Simple and not that extravagant, but it was still rather lovely and it gave us an impressive view over the city.



Next ride, which was BY FAR the highlight of the park were the go karts. Watching while we were waiting, it looked bloody difficult and we all thought for sure we were going to stack it or kill someone. There were smashings all over the place and the chaps attached to the pedals were going awfully fast. Standing in line, I had sweaty palms and a heart pulsating at an unhealthy rate, and before I knew it, someone had shoved a sweaty helmet on my head and I was second in line to start. The flag went and off we went. Looking from the side, I didn’t even take notice of the track. Some of the corners were 180 degree turns which at first bewildered me, and I was terrified. After the first two or so, my back wheels were skidding around the corners, and by the fourth corner, I’m sure the back wheels weren’t even touching the ground. Over taking was the coolest thing on the track, but took it a heap of concentration to not run into them and blow up. It seemed a lot faster than when I was watching and took a lot of concentration, but this was one of the most fun experiences of my life.



As I’m sure most of you would agree, going to a theme park without trying a roller coaster is close to a mortal sin, so the first one was called the ‘Boomerang’. As most of the Contiki folk have now found out, I’m not a huge roller coaster person. Just typing about it now is making my hands sweaty. When everyone else throws their arms up in the air and screams, I give whatever I’m holding onto a death grip, every muscle in my body tightens, my face goes red, and I let out an ongoing grunt for the duration of the ride.



Our next roller coaster involved standing up in this little box type thing, which tipped on it’s side while you were waiting, so you were going face first. It was great fun at the start and went quite fast, but everyone’s neck was almost put out of place on the first corner. Rather than easing us into the corner, it was a sharp and smashing crunch with no warning. There’s was a considerable amount of room to move around, so when we hit this corner our neck’s were nearly put out. A couple times throughout the ride we went upside down, and when this happened, it felt like we were going to fall out, given the amount of room in this little box. We made it alive in the end though.

Returning to the campsite, we met a couple chaps from a 36 day camper that we were to spend the next 5 nights with. They were absolute dicks and I’m very glad they weren’t on our tour.

Up and early the next day, we smashed up the city of Vienna. To kick off our day, we had a driving tour of the city on the coach. It’s a gorgeous city and I would very much like to return. Dropping us off outside a truly majestic art museum, we noticed how crappy the weather was looking. Overhead were excruciatingly dark clouds that look monstrously dangerous to our dry-bring. Five minutes after getting off the coach, it started to absolutely piss down with rain. Everyone got hammered by it.


Do take note of the clouds behind the museum.

Tara gave us a very wet walk to the centre of the city where we were taken to the Swarovski Crystal jeweller. I began to wonder why the hell they would take 30 smelly Contiki Campers to a jeweller when we clearly had NO money until I decided to use the toilet. With any chance of a free toilet in the middle of the city, I’ll use it! An ambition burnt deep within me as well. I wanted to see if rich people had to take bogs and apparently they do. While I was in there, I took one, because the toilet paper looked really soft. When I came out, I found half the Contiki chaps all crowded around the taps. The taps have all these coloured lights set up around them. They’re blue when the water is cold, and as the water gets warmer, the more red it become and so it would go through a stage of being purple too. It was really trippy and was the most exciting thing about the entire shop.



I found three other chaps, and after buying some cheap strawbs, we got the hell out of there. It was sunny outside, and it looked as though the clouds were gone. While the boys were off buying some friendship bracelets in the colour of the flag, I decided to hook into a Bratwurst. This bastard was massive and after the first bite, I knew I would be farting like a champion at some point in the day. It was brilliant and I felt like a man eating it. After spending a huge amount of time walking around the city, checking out all the cool stuff, we decided to stop for a Schnitzel at a small family owned pub. Our waitress was an absolute legend. Based on the people I’d met so far in Vienna, I feel as if I could safely say that I really enjoy the company of Austrians. Our Schnitzels were large and shaped like Australia, and the beer served with it was probably the best I’d had on the tour up to this point. I used the facilities and was amazed and enthralled by the porcelain on the wall. Set up in the urinal was a little soccer goal with a little soccer ball attached by a piece of string. If you pee on the ball right, you can score a goal. It was definitely one of my more exciting experiences in a pub toilet.



With time ticking away until we had to get back to the coach, we hurried off through the city gardens as a short cut. In the gardens is a rather large monument dedicated to Mozart, as he spent most of his life in Vienna. This was the only thing Benjamin and myself set out to do, but because we enjoyed out schnitzels too much for too long, we were in a rush and didn’t get around to it. Blast!


This isn't even my photo, and it's not a particularly great one, I assume it was taken from inside the bus, but this is the statue of Mozart we were hoping to see.

Back on the coach, we headed off down the road to the Schnapps museum. After being introduced to the owner, we fell in love with schnapps without even having tasted any. The owner of the place had an incredible sense of humour and was just a legend all around. He walked us through his old shop and explained to us the history of his company and how schnapps is made etc. Schnapps in Austria and Germany is much different to what I perceived it to be. When spoken to of schnapps, I thought of butterscotch, strawberry, vanilla etc. All those pretty girly tasting flavours. Although somewhat accurate of some kinds, there is a much broader and vast range of schnapps available. One of my favourites was a chilli one he called rocket fuel. At 56%, it tasted like it would blow your head off. He had sooooo many things to show us and once he got all of them out of the way, he sent the females upstairs and showed us one of his sparkling wines he makes in rather bulk quantities. With a name like Rene Pogel, we had the impression that this was a pretty swanky and classy wine…He then told us to read it backwards and buy a couple bottles for the girls. He gave us a heap of tastings upstairs of the schnapps he talked about and we all walked out a little happier.




Rene Pogel - Go on, spell it backwards ;)

Time to head back to camp.

As I mentioned before, the campsite was bloody windy, and that I now understood why Jodie and the girls bought the kite. I decided to go and watch them have a crack at getting the thing in the air, and it wasn’t pretty. After she and a few other girls had a crack, they let the master take over. The last time I’d flown a kite, I was probably about 6 and probably sucked too, this time around though, yes this was different. After a shaky start and almost taking out a couple eyes and some small children, I had that bad boy up in the air introducing himself to the clouds. Two chubby little Austrian chaps no more than 4 years old were running around shooting at the kite with their ’hand’ guns trying to make it crash and yelling at it in some German jargon. This gave me a chance to show off and sent it higher into the air. Harlie then turned up and showed us his kite flying style which involved running around really fast in a big circle. Although 10 times more effort with worse results, it was so much more fun, and so I spent the remainder of the afternoon running around with my mouth open and sweating profusely. Unfortunately no pictures.

This evening’s activities included heading out to see a classical concert. This was definitely one of the activities Benjamin and myself were more looking forward too. We arrived and on show was dancing, singing and a mini orchestra. Every time I looked at Ben, he had his fly catching face on and I swear I saw a spillage of drool trail down to his chin. They were all brilliant performers and were dressed in gorgeous attire. At half time, we were given a little tour of the building we were in. A room we happened to be standing and sipping some (probably cheap) sparkling wine in, had been host to a very young Mozart at one stage. Here he played a very important concert to a very important woman which proved to be a very important part of his life and was one of the first steps to his long and very successful career. After the wine and the second half of the show, we all hit up the night life of Vienna.

The room

Caitlin - my date for the evening.

After finding a bar that sold tequila shots for 1 euro, we thought we had it all. After 4 or 5, I realised that it didn’t taste as nearly as bad as it should have, and I could still function quite well, so I called it quits there, this tequila was probably 5% and not worth my time. Our night progressed and we met several interesting characters along our way. One of my dreads caught on fire as a result of Andy wondering what my hair looks like next to the candlelight...

On the first day of Contiki, everyone is issued with a “Get Lost Sheet” which you carry around in your wallet. This sheet has the address and phone number of every campsite we stay at, so at the end of the night when we can barely walk and definitely not talk, we can just point to the address and the taxi driver takes us there. This worked every time without fail until Vienna. We were dropped off in the middle of nowhere and managed to stumble across another group who tried to get home in the same predicament. Our taxi driver found the real campsite and off we went again, we traded Ben for another chap that was about to be bashed by his taxi group. This fellow was filthy drunk. Pulling up outside the campsite gates, he managed to spew outside the door, but the driver still wasn’t impressed, so he took our money, kicked us out and sped off. The results:





I'm pleased to report that I was never in such a state.

And so that was Vienna, the only stop over in Austria. Moving into beer country and terrible music, we go next to Czech Republic. I assure you that the next post won’t take nearly as long, and I apologise again for the delay on this one.

See you soon!