Köln - Düsseldorf

After completing our intensive German language course (with our crazy eccentric, pill-popping teacher, Jochen) we felt unrealistically comfortable with our German proficiency so set-off to Köln to meet up with Ellen's bestus girlfriend Jenny, and visit her aunt Anke. As we hadn't booked the necessary 53 German working-days in advance, the train prices were outrageously expensive. Thankfully our newly developed language skills meant we were able to explain to the ticket sales officer that we were quite broke (wir sind sehr arm) so she advised us on the "special" travel tickets. These were pretty much tickets designed for poor Aussie travellers who needed to get around the country, but who unlike regular German citizens who demand time-efficiency, can tolerate multiple changes and lay-overs. So we were able to get to Köln for the fraction of the price, but unlike a regular inter-city trip there which is direct and only takes 2.5hrs, we had 8 changes and a 9.5hr journey, as we were restricted to local trains only.

Although taking forever, the route meant we were able to visit a bunch of cities we generally wouldn't have thought to see, like Wolfsburg (birth city of VW), Hanover, Wuppertal (home of the gravity-defying monorail that hangs upside-down from the rail) & a bunch of really small towns in Brandenburg province that haven't developed much since the DDR days. By the time we reached köln, we felt quite knowledgeable of the local train routes and timetables throughout northern Germany. We were pretty exhausted, so very happy to see Jenny's smiling face awaiting us at the platform.

Even though it was 10pm and Jenny was supposed to be studying for uni exams and finishing her thesis, the girls spent the next 5 hours catching each other up in the affairs of their lives in the past 3 years:  boyfriends/uni/jobs/shopping/waxing products/cleo bachelor of the year/how annoying I am to travel with/the number of failed times ellen's tried to kill me, etc. Jenny kept me entertained by letting me test every brand of Kolsch beer (local brewed beer in köln) she and her housemates had in their fridge. Once the girls were up-to-speed with each others lives we went to bed. The next morning Jenny prepared us a delicious German-style breaky of brötchen, croissants, jams, cheeses and rocket. Afterwards we left her to write some more of her thesis and headed into the city.

We had arranged to meet Ellen's aunty for lunch at Wolfgang's favourite restaurant in köln: the Fruh am Dom brewery. This place quickly became my favourite restaurant in köln. Due to Ellen's vegetarianism over the past 2.5 years, I have also been forced to eat predominantly vegetarian. Before we even sat down at a table, I noticed every single male there was eating what looked like a quarter of a pig on a plate with fried potatoes and a small side salad. Upon sitting down I pre-emptively explained to Ellen any notion of shared-vegetarian platter-ordering would not be tolerated today. I was having that quarter of a pig.

Ellen was a little nervous, as when visiting relatives in Germany, she normally had wolfie there to translate. Although we knew we could confidently remark on the city's weather and transport connections, we weren't completely confident on sustaining an entire meal conversation, which would no doubtedly delve into other more personal topics about of lives and our travels throughout Germany and the rest of the world. I'm not sure whether Anke was just being polite or if we really did somehow maintain 3 hours of coherent German dialogue, but the luncheon was a surprising occurrence to everyone involved. I don't think Anke was expecting us to be able to converse about even general things like art, our studies and current affairs, lest to mention topics such as the fountain sculpture which was derived from a German fable of little fairy-elves that helped build the city of köln. I think Jochen's ridiculous teaching methods such as letting the daily newspaper determine the curriculum and going off on random tangents about German mythology, was actually paying-off. Anke was actually fluent in English (probably something Ellen should've remembered) as she was always able to understand the sections of dialogue which were littered with English words we didn't know the German translation for, but by constantly responding in German meant we really got to try formulating extensive dialogue exchanges in German (something we hadn't done outside of the language course, as most Germans just reverted to English once they heard our less-than-pleasant German grammar and pronunciation).

After lunch we walked around the square and into Köln cathedral. I've seen an abundance of Gothic and Baroque architecture during my various travels abroad, but I must say the cathedral was super impressive. It was not only incredibly intricate in the undulating exterior structure, but its presence was totally overpowering. I felt for the first time I was looking at a building that had endured, resisted, suffered. That had generally felt and lived...(I dunno, maybe it was the excessive amount of pork clogging my arteries and blood flow to my head). Anke was really keen to see my reaction to the regent addition of Gerhard Richter's commissioned stain-glass window. I freakin loved it. He created something that was both a complete contrast to all the other imagery inside the church, yet still complemented the visual aesthetic and sensitivity of the atmosphere.

Once we exited the cathedral, we walked Anke to the train station, said our goodbyes and headed back to Jenny's. Upon reaching her street, we noticed a massive traffic jam and numerous police cars. Officers were speaking with 2 men, who looked both amused and annoyed. We went into her apartment and asked Jenny what was going on. Apparently the two men had been firing at each other with very realistic bb guns. Someone had thought they were gangsters having a shoot-out so called the police. Although the guns weren't real, it was still considered as an illegal "weapon" for residential areas, so the officers were meant to arrest the men. Apparently the officers could see the relative harmlessness of the situation, and the men were obviously not aware that firing them would potentially result in them being locked up, so the officers had been waiting for telephoned approval from their Captain to just issue them a small fine as opposed to following protocol and arresting them for possession of weapons. It had been going on for 2.5hrs so Jenny hadn't got a great deal of study done. She proposed we head to her family home in Düsseldorf so that we could get away from the cofuffal of what was happening outside and be treated to a couple of days of home-cooked meals.

Düsseldorf was a super cool city. Jenny's family home was located near a massive forest, so I was able to go running in the woods that evening, whilst the girls baked a cake. By the time I got back, Jenny's parents had returned from their day of golfing, so they had to endure I very sweaty "Hello" from me. I had only met Hans and Heike briefly in Sydney when they visited Jenny. Ellen told me to expect to be fed a lot of alcohol as they were major wine connoisseurs. Sure enough, she was right. Although I was covered in sweat & mud and smelled like horses (there was a horse riding trail through the forest that I got lost on), Hans insisted I have a beer immediately and get a tour of the house. The place was amazing. Hans and Heike had an incredible art collection including Warhol's, Christo's, Beuyes and were high school friends with Andreas Gursky, so had really unique photographs of road trips they went on as kids.

I was advised on the best galleries and temp exhibitions to see, so the next day Ellen and I set out to the city. The museum Kunst Palast had a showcase of works from the sculpture major graduates of the Düsseldorf Kunst Akademie from 1945-present. Ellen obviously left me to my own devices in the gallery, walking ahead and finding a nice couch to sit on. After 3hrs I was happily art-pleasured and ready to leave, when I realised there 3 storey building had a second permanent exhibition of painting and sculpture masters from C18th - present... I told Ellen she should either find a nice tree outside to nap under or go back to Jenny's and watch Titanic, as I would probably be there until the gallery closed.

By the time we finally left it was late afternoon and Jenny had finished her daily studies. She met us in the city and took us for a walk along the Rhine and to a local brewery so we could try the arch-rival beer of Kölsch, Altbier. Unlike the kölsch, altbier wasn't served in a thin dainty flute-like glass so you didn't feel as girly. It also tasted a great deal better (sorry wolfie, I know you would argue this point, but it's true). Kölsch is very clear and light. You cab drink it like water (possibly why it gets you drunk so quickly). Altbier on the other hand is heavier and darker, more like an ale. Unfortunately, unlike the Bavarians, who set a minimum half-litre sized glass for beer, both kölsch and altbier is served in a bizarre 200ml glass??? Nevertheless, its super tasty.

The next day the girls went to a jewellery store opening. Naturally I passed on this "enthralling" expedition and made my way to a couple of other galleries. In the afternoon we all met up in the city and went for another round of beers with her cousin and some of his mates. This social meeting had an alterior motive of trying to scout some boys to join us clubbing that night, as Jenny had us some if her girlfriends on the guestlist to a new club opening at the top of a 7 storey shopping mall. Unfortunately the boys were all going to a party so I was forced to put on my heels and a skimpy skirt and join the ladies on a girls night out.

We went to a Japanese grocery store on the way home and picked up supplies for homemade sushi. Jenny had made it before so her rolls turned out a treat. Ours were less successful. Especially mine. (Stupid fat sculpting hands). We ate with the usual plethora of beer, wine and mattatax Hans and Heike had accustomed us to, so we were nicely primed for the night ahead. Ellen hadn't stopped raving about the 1L cocktails her and Jenny used to skull and the best tequila bar in the world. We started off with cocktails, meeting up with Jenny's friends, before heading to the tequila bar for at least 10 mixed rounds of gold tequila with cinnamon and silver shots with lemon wedges. Now quite drunk we made our to the club to finish the night off.

The next day we rose late, ate a hearty brunch and said our farewells before Jenny dropped us at the station. We knew we'd not be in the best state to remain awake and manage the necessary 9 train changes to get back to Berlin, so we booked a bus that took us direct. A sleepy 7 hours later we were back at our apartment in Leopoldplatz.

How to fill 5 weeks in Berlin

By Ellen

We steered away from the typical tourist trip to Berlin since both Alex and I have visited this lovely city before. At some point we decided to embark on an intense historical discovery trip, sucking up every juicy historical fact this country would let us have. We were surprised to realise how much of the German big picture we had either forgotten about or over-looked.

Looking like a bit of a tourist at Checkpoint Charlie

After reading every detail in the new open air exhibition at Checkpoint Charlie (along the Berlin wall), about what happened in Germany and what other countries it was involved with from the end of WW2 to the fall of the Berlin wall, for the first time I really began to take an interest in how I fitted into the whole picture. I began to consider the fact that the wall came down only days before I was born (sometimes when you read about history you feel it happened in another life time, in another world, but really the horror of the Berlin wall happened just around the corner). I also for the first time really thought about how my dad and my relatives lived in a divided Germany. Furthermore, how Jenny (my best friend from Düsseldorf, same age as me) was born into the "new Germany" and that her parents experienced the dramatic events of this time that shaped the world. Never had I really realised that such major historical events directly effected the people so close to me.

An interesting side fact: Checkpoint Charlie got its name because along the American sector there were checkpoints 'A', 'B' and 'C'. When the military referred to these they used 'alpha', 'bravo', and 'charlie'.

As our time in Berlin is now drawing to a close, I believe I should do a quick wrap up of our highlights from the last 5 weeks (I'll leave the art experiences to our professional on tour artist). So, we have..........

Visited the massive Deutsches Technikmuseum and looked at the first computer which took up one whole room. German trains from early 1900's to today, which included Hitler's own train which he used to travel between European headquarters. Old military planes, the first passenger plane made from corrugated steel, old cargo and war ships, and a historic brewery which explained German beer making with purity laws.

We saw Queen Nefertiti's bust in the Neues Museum. She's from about 1340 B.C. from Amarna, Egypt, and wow she is beautiful. I was driven to visit this museum because I had been before as a child. My mum was really excited to see the bust and paid a ridiculously high entrance fee for her, me and my brother to go. But due to our immaturity my brother and I wanted to touch everything in the museum which led my poor mother with no other option but to basically run through the museum, past the bust and straight out the back door before she was billed millions of dollars for a broken ancient artifact. So because I had been there but never really seen the bust I had to go back and see what my mum made all the fuss about, and I'm glad I did.

Ishtar Gate of ancient Babylon

We were also amazed by the Ishtar Gates of Babylon in the Pergamon. Before Athens flourished, Babylon was the capital of the empire Mesopotamia (6th century B.C). Situated on the river of Euphrates (where you now find Iraq), Babylon was a thriving metropolis, center for international trade and the abode of the god Marduk and his powerful priesthood. After the Persians conquered the country, the Romans conquered Europe, and Alexander the Great died before being able to reclaim Babylon as the capital, Babylon fell and was then on referred to as "The Babylonian Whore" (the city's name in the Bible). The city was slowly deserted.

The Processional Way and the Ishtar Gate are the most famous buildings of Babylon. The city was confined by walls and these buildings paved the entrance way. The glazed coloured bricks of the walls of the Processional Way, about 250 m long, and the gate depicted two rows of striding lions (symbols of the goddess Ishtar), dragons and bulls (symbols of the gods Marduk and Adad). Quite a site, and a warning, for anyone entering the city.

Totally obsessed with Ritter Sport

We've also been twice (and probably 3 times by the time we leave) to the Ritter Sport headquarters shop to buy stupid amounts of amazing pocket sized chocolate. Ritter's Sport Schokolade produced as a square tablet was launched in 1932 after Clara, Alfred Ritter's wife, suggested creating a chocolate bar that would fit into every sport jacket pocket without breaking. We agree, it was a good idea.

We have been lucky enough to see two free lunch concerts by the Philharmonie. They have this fantastic program where ever Tuesday lunch time they have a short free concert in their foyer so that people who can't afford to see their shows can still experience their talent. We saw one show with opera singers from the Philharmoniker academy and one show by a professional strings quartet. Of course watching these pros makes you feel like you should totally learn to play an instrument again...it looks so easy...right?!

Street art in Berlin's clubs

Pretty much when we first arrived we went to an awesome flea market in a club. It's quite common in Berlin for places to be clubs by night then markets or events during the day because most clubs are in abandoned buildings so they can be practically used for anything. The club we went to was called 'der Kater' which we learnt means 'hangover'.

Wind surfing on the old Tempelhof runway.

When we lived in Neükolln we played around with the air-skateboarders and air-windsurfers at Tempelhofer park. Since there is not much ocean around Berlin but plenty of wind these guys improvised a little. Tempelhof was once an airport but has been converted into a massive inner city park. You can still run on the old runway.

We got the best view of Berlin twice, once from the top of the Siegessäule (or Victory Column, symbol of Prussian military victory from the 19th century and also the place where Obama made his US Presidential candidate speech to 200,000 Berliners on July 24, 2008 ) and the Reichstag (parliament). For any of you who are familiar with Berlin, the Siegessäule was originally located in front of the Reichstag but was relocated to the Tiergarten in 1938 by the Nazi's because it got in their way when they redesigned the city.

You can see all of Berlin from the glass dome on top of the Reichstag

From the Siegessäule you can see straight to the Brandenburg Gate

OK that is not really even near a full 5 weeks but enough information overload for now. More to come from Alex so keep on your toes till then.

Busy in Berlin

By Ellen

We've been waiting for it for weeks and finally its seems that the sun is really coming out in Berlin now. Of course it's always after just buying a heap of jumpers and a big coat that the sun decides to instantly end the unusual long European winter that was going on!

Painting the Altes Museum in Berlin

With the gorgeous change in weather we now find ourselves picnic-ing daily in Berlin's MASSIVE city parks. Equipped with chocolate coated biscuits and a flask of tea, we settle in a grassy spot for the afternoon so that Alex can paint something and I basce in the sun like a roasting lizard.

Every morning we attend language classes (which I forced Alex to join with me). For 4 hours our crazy old German teacher attempts to teach 1 Japanese, 1 Mongolia, 1 Korean, 1 Frenchy and us 2 Aussies how to say things like "the cup is on the table", "the mouse is in the fridge" and "the bed is in the bedroom" - great conversation starters for bars, only problem is from there we can't continue the conversation because we've exhausted all our German and all we can do is continent to point out the position of simple objects. The best part of class is when our teacher leads off on to completely random tangents (happens often) and tells us in German about how the story of Hansel and Gretle portrays why witches were burnt to death or explains to us all the different beers and sausages we have to try. Then he teaches us the key German words from the story. Awesome!! So yes everyday Alex and I go to school with our textbooks, packed sandwiches, pens, highlighters and then we sit down and argue with each other about what's correct....it's like a normal day in highschool. 

 We have lived in Berlin for almost 5 weeks now. We lived for 2 weeks in Neukoln (south-east Berlin position wise but was part of West Berlin) which is the newest Surryhills of Berlin. Because the city keeps expanding, the "in" suburb keeps changing as suburbs are forced to undergo gentrification. Gentrification is the most hated word in Berlin, commonly referred to or written in the street as 'gentri-fuck-cation'. Because of historically cheap rent in Berlin, foreigners from all over have flocked to this amazing city. Quite rapidly the central city area filled and in recent years has begun to expand. Those suburbs historically lying on the outskirts, like Neukoln, were home for the poor and minorities. These groups could only afford to live in these suburbs and now for a couple generations have built lives there. Due to the influx of foreigners pushing city expansion, rent all over Berlin has been driven through the roof. Outlying suburbs like Neukoln are no longer on the outskirts and those who have always lived there can no longer as theses suburbs are done-up so that tourist prices can be set. 

 A great example is the area around Tempelhofer Flughafen in Neukoln. Tempelhof Flughafen was once a working airport on the southern outskirts of Berlin. At this time Neukoln was considered the 'pits' of Berlin (this is even how my dad remembers it). It was a rough, nasty area. The apartment blocks around the area had cheap rent if you could endure the daily noise of the airport. Those who were poor probably thought they were lucky enough to even settle there and build a life. The airport has now been converted into a massive inner city park and some of the most expensive apartments now surround it. Those who lived there before definitely can't afford it any more. 

How Berlin was divided by the wall.

 We then moved to Wedding (north-west Berlin and part of the former West Berlin). Another rough outskirts city undergoing gentrification. However there is one vitally important aspect of living in a Turkish concentrated area - unlimited supply of baklava!!!



I admit I am a little behind with our reporting (yes it's my fault because I promised Alex I would write the next entry) so more photos and reports of our adventures coming ASAP.

Bordeaux - Hossegor - Dublin - Galway - Kilarney

As Ellen wanted to see the French countryside, other than a mulled blur from the 400km/h TGV train, we decided to travel the scenic route from Paris by bus. Although a lot prettier than the train, the bus did take over 10 hours! As there were numerous children on board, to keep them entertained the driver put on some DVDs (reaching backwards & putting them himself, WHILST still driving the bus!) Along with trying to kill us, his movie selection wasn't great either. He lead with Mama Mia (no not the classic, the recent one where Pierce Brosnan is given waaay too many singing parts). Indiana Jones followed, (man the racism in that is unbelievable!... thankfully Ellen was the only Indian on board). 

He redeemed himself slightly with a Denzel Washington classic: Unstoppable, but then went dramatically downhill from there. He must've accidently grabbed one of his "alone time" DVDs, as the opening scene began with a slow panning-out of a naked woman pleasuring herself on a couch... extremely embarrassed, he quickly ejected the cd & put on the next one he could grab. It was D-grade Bulgarian film about a truck driver who had 72hrs to chase international drug lords into Morocco & steal back an illegal money printing press for the German police, but that same weekend was his child custody hearing in southern Bosnia..... there were no subtitles, but I was able to discern all of this as 4minutes before it ended we stopped for dinner, and when everyone re-boarded, the DVD player re-started the film from the beginning! (or the bus driver purposely re-started it to fill in the last 3hrs of the trip, as he only had porn left?)

Bordeaux was an extremely beautiful city. We spent our days walking around the charming cobbled streets, exploring the Gothic cathedrals & Bell-towers, basking in the 35 minutes of daily sunlight in the central Jardin and avoiding being hit by the masses of people rollerblading along the rivers edge. Naturally, we also continued our love affair of french pastries and cheese, maintaining a consistent supply of Chevre, croissants, butter and Jam. I also found the only biscuit that could ever replace the Tim Tam: the chocolate covered butter kek!

As the weather was so dreary we didn't get to indulge in a wine tasting tour around Bordeaux's amazing vineyards. We did however, stumble upon a cinema that was a renovated church, and played only Cohen Brothers films and Cannes festival winners. And it was only 4€ a ticket!!

Due to complications of Bratt runing off at the station and Ellen's creditcard not being accepted, resulted in us missing our train to St Vincent Tyrosse. A two hour silent-arms-folded-don't-look-or-talk-to-me wait later, we were on our way to Hossegor to stay with Ellen's old uni friend Matt.

Staying with a household of Aussie ex-pats meant we had numerous tour guides to take us around the area. We were staying in a 4 bedroom holiday home that was stilted above a marshland lake.

Our week consisted of a trip to Bayonne for the annual Ham festival (pretty much everyone getting drunk in beer/wine halls and eating copious amounts of Ham), a night drive across the border to San Sebastian for cheap tapas and beers (and the best Sangria ever!), walking along a beach lined with decaying German WW2 bunkers, exploring the surrounding forests and marshlands and cruising around on scooters to nightly dinner parties (Ellen had never ridden a scooter before, so was not aware that 10km/h is not considered a "speedy pace", even though she could see the copious amount of backed-up traffic behind her).

Matt has a strange habit of climbing horizontal supports whenever he comes upon them.

He nearly ended up in one of the marshy lake in the nature reserve, monkey-climbing across a precarious limb to remove a nature council sign that was affixed to it (he argued it was harming the natural aesthetics of the area), and has turned the safety barrier of the house's outdoor decking into a guided gymnastics-balacing tour: coined "the tour of the house" (so far no one has falled off the edge into the water below, but the tour's only been running a couple of weeks).

Celebrating Easter in Hossegor was awesome as we were surrounded by our little family. They ensured the festivities weren't lonesome and an abundance of chocolate was on offer. The Aussie guys all work at the headquarters of the major surf labels, so have a wicked social circle of German, Swiss, French & British mates who all have moved to this tiny coastal  village. Matt's birthday was the next day, so once again a dinner party was thrown & celebrations ensued.

Before we knew it April was upon us, so it was time for us to cross the Pyrennes & start walking the Camino. Unfortunately, the woeful European weather continued to rage. Neither of us wanted to trek across a mountain range in torrential rain & snow (well, not AGAIN, I should say) so we decided to rearrange our itinerary & head to Berlin until the summer kicked in & Spain would be ablaze in glorious heat. Several factors were preventing us from following through with this plan though. Firstly, Berlin was probably the worst affected city by this lingering winter weather, reading a chilly -6 degrees and hosting weekly snow fall. The other problem was the outrageous price of French trains! (the French government must use the revenue generated through the railway system to fund its moronic social welfare hand-outs). We were about to bite the bullet & cough up the cash, when Ellen stumbled upon a cheap alternative: flying through Dublin.

As my old Irish housemate Mo, had been haggling us to go visit him whilst we were in Europe, we figured it was a sign to take another side-trip from our original itinerary and visit the land of potatoes, leprechauns & the most ridiculous accents in the world!..(well ok, maybe on par with Wales).

Flying to Dublin was ellen's first experience of low-budget European airlines. The barbaric notion of non-sequential seating & lack of passenger respect for carry-on baggage limits (most people rolling on several large suitcases each, or stuffing their children inside to avoid buying seat tickets) shocked & mortified her. Overhead storage filled-up before even half the plane was aboard, so the aisles were stacked floor-to-ceiling with bags/children & Spanish immigrants (mistakenly fleeing to a country that was only slightly less in economical depression than theirs). The planes' weight was well above capacity, so just to achieve initial elevation, 6 Ryanair aviation officials had to stand at the end of the runway with padded brooms and push the wings of the plane to lift it into the air! Two turbulent hours later we were in Ireland.

As we were alighting from the aircraft in Dublin, it occurred to us that the city was bordered by massive snow-capped mountains! We had neglected to check the weather report here, but shortly realised it rivalled that of Berlin. Thankfully Mo had arranged one of his housemates to pick us up, so we didn't need wait in the cold very long. Steve tried taking us on a quick tour around the city, but as soon as Ellen noticed the hundreds of wild deer roaming in Phoenix Park, the tour ended & the rest of the afternoon was spent trying to pat/catch/eat one. 

Afterwards we resigned to a local pub to warm ourselves & sample the traditional brew. It was strange going to pubs in Ireland: most cities have a token Irish bar that everyone knows is always good craic. Whilst here EVERY pub was an Irish bar. We asked Steve if Ireland instead had a token other-cultured pub that everyone knew about. He pointed out an extravagantly decorated Aussie-themed pub that looked pretty cool...but he swiftly cut in that no one went there cz it was shit. People only go to the Irish pubs. He used the analogy "you don't try to pick up an American girl when holidaying in Sweden"...I seemed satisfied with his reasoning.

We hadn't seen Mo in nearly 2 years so it was great being able to catch up again. We spent the first couple days cycling round the city visiting galleries, museums & old gaols. Kilmainham gaol was wickedly cool and gave a great breakdown of Irish political history. The natural history museum (or dead zoo as the locals refer to it) is a MUST see when in Dublin. If not for the bizarre poses the animals have been taxi-dermed in, definitely to view the 20ft giant deer skeletons they have showcased!

  

On the weekend we experienced some traditional Irish musician legends entertain a screaming audience of at least 8 people. (ellen was pretty much the only one screaming) Though her enthusiasm gained her acceptance to the inner sanctum of the folk musicians, resulting in her nearly being married-off to the fiddlers' son. The performers were paid in free Guinness for their services by the bartender. More and more would arrive as the night developed. As intoxication ensued, so too does the river dancing on top of the bar furniture & friendly mass brawling (if you recall the scene from titanic when Rose first goes to the lower deck, its pretty much EXACTLY like that!)

We were advised to spend the next week on the west coast around Galway, as its the most gorgeous part of Ireland. Express tourist buses leave from Dublin every hour, taking only 2hrs as they stick to the new highway route. As we had missed one of the tourist buses by 5mins we opted to try the local bus, thinking it would still be quicker than waiting 55mins for the next one...we were quite wrong. As nice as it was to visit all 461 villages between Dublin & Galway, it was a 6hr journey I wish I'd had planned for.

As a lot of the west coast towns speak solely Irish, the traditional music & culture around the area is more rampant than in Dublin. To get the customers in, most pubs advertise the time slots they have musicians performing. Ellen utilized these notification boards to plan a thorough pub crawl of the city, ensuring we caught every set. The two evenings UEFA champions league fixtures were on, musicians were postponed til after the matches. The pub we were watching the games in offered free pints to everyone anytime a goal was scored after the 85th minute. The Real v Juventus & Dortmund v Malaga games resulted in Guinness being stacked along the bar as everyone grabbed as many glasses as physically possible.

We did a walking tour of the city, which was lead by a hilarious uni student. He adlib'd a lot of comical anecdotes that appeared to be solely for our amusement, as none of the other Japanese, Russian or Polish tourists understood his thick accent. Galway had a rich history of invasion, exploration & war. The most fascinating fact I learned was the slang phrased "getting lynched" originated from the city. Coined after the C16th mayor James Lynch hanged his only son from his bedroom window, as punishment for drunkenly stabbing a man.

As the magnificent Cliffs of Moher were only 2hrs away, we took a day-trip down passing through the intriguing Burren region. We stopped along the way at Aillwee Caves (an under-whelming Irish version of Jenolan caves), a bunch of cool castles from the Middle Ages, & Poulnaborone Dolmen (a 6000 year-old grave).



The cliffs were by far the highlight. Over 700ft at their highest point, and with very little barrier protection, the cliffs draw people to the edge to gasp at the deathly beauty. Occasionally, the wind kicks-up & flings unwary tourists to the crushing waves below....but the majority of deaths at the cliffs are intentional. Ireland has had a vast increase in suicides since the GFC, so helpline plaques are positioned all around the site, and coast guard officers patrol the area in an attempt to stem the fatalities.

Before we left Galway, we walked out to Salt Hill to "kick the wall" (a stone wall erected by the French during their rein in the area, to section the city limits). Locals give the wall a firm kick each time they pass it in an attempt to knock it down & liberate the city's border from definition. Although we would have loved to pass through every minor village on the way back, we opted to take the express bus & enjoy the uninterrupted journey back to Dublin.

Our last weekend was spent road trippin' down to Kilarney with Mo's housemates. The Gap of Dunloe is located 5mins from the town centre & is hailed as being of the most scenic driving landscape on Western Europe. Disastrous weather conditions however, meant we didn't get to take in the wonderful views, so we resigned to spending most of the dreary days within the warm comforts of the local taverns. As Ellen was yet to finish an entire pint of Guinness without complaining about its ash-like taste, she was forced to consume in silence for the entire weekend.

Kilarney was a surprisingly fun town to go out, but it did appear to play home to some of the ugliest & strangest people alive (even for Irish standards). We intended on getting back & heading to Dublin stadium by Sunday arfternoon to watch the Gaelic football finals, but the aftermath of Saturday night shinanigans depleted this plan. We settled instead for one last family-dinner with the boys.

Before leaving Kilarney we ate at one of the greatest cafes in the world. Upon entering, the waitress approached us and asked the group whether we were after breakfast or lunch. We all replied 'breakfast' & sat down. She took our tea/coffee order than left. We assumed she would return shortly with menus, but instead just started chatting away in the corner with the other waitresses. After about 10-minutes Ellen flagged her over & asked if we could place our breakfast order.

"You've already ordered breakfast though" stated the waitress.

"We did? What did we order?" We queried.

"Breakfast". She replied.

"No, we only ordered the coffees for our breakfast"

"Yes, the coffee to go with your breakfast".

"Yes, so can we order our breakfast?"

"But you've already ordered breakfast".

"Ummm....we're not following".

We weren't sure whether this was a joke or not. Thankfully one of the boys overhead & chimed in to help out.

"Guys, the breakfast here is a set, full-irish breakfast. If you want to order the lunch option its a Sunday roast. Tea and coffee comes with either option".

"Did you want to change your order to "lunch"?" The waitress queried.

"No, We'll stick with our "breakfast" order. Thanks."

She rolled her eyes & stormed off muttering something about "foreigners", under her breath.

Arriving at Dublin airport the next day we witnessed one of Ireland's infamous killer hare's bounding along the field next to the car park. We took this as a good omen for the next leg of our adventure. We scored ourselves emergency exit seats on the plane (leg room baby!) and were amazed not to see crowds of baggage or screaming children  piled up in the aisles.

We touched down smoothly on the tarmac 3hrs later, and surprisingly even heard the musical in-flight trumpets sound:

" ***Doop-do-do-deeeerrrp!*** 

ANOTHER ON-TIME RYANAIR FLIGHT.

Thanks for flying!" 

...(low budget airlines are SO weird)...

We had arrived in Berlin.