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I have a plan to go to Germany on November 7th, go to Frankfurt to watch Eintract play Stuttgart on the Friday night, then the following day get the train up to Gelshenkirchen to watch Schalke play Bayern, then on the Sunday to Duisberg to watch them play Rot Weiss Ahlen. It's in the pipeline atm, I'm wondering if anyone has done anything similar in the past

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I've been doing one a year (full holidays rather than weekends) for the last few years. It started off with Spain (Espanyol and Barcelona), but that was a bit too much time in one place. So the next year it was off to Italy. We went to Milan (Inter), stopped off at Pisa (food poisoning), before finishing up in Florence (Fiorentina) - only the two games, but Northern Italy more than made up for that. The last season we did Germany. Started off in Munich, from there catching games at Nuremberg (abandoned at half time) and Unterhaching. Then moved up to Dusseldorf - and from there went to games at Cologne and Frankfurt (v Bayern {Had to go in the Bayern end due to ticket availability}), then it was back down to Munich for the flight - just managing to get the 1860 game in the night before.

 

Next year it is off to the South of France for Grenoble, (maybe Turin,) Nimes and Marseille. Then it'll be something along the lines of Valencia and Madrid. Then Napoli and Rome. Berlin and...

 

Off my limited experience, I would say in terms of football matches Germany is easily the best. Great atmosphere and a lower league structure meaning that you can watch games other than in the big league (they are on at a different time). It didn't really back it up with too much else - like the food and other things to do.

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Searching my emails I find:

 

The italian Job:

 

Anyhow. Let's think back (if you could press the degauss button on your screen now it would handily create those waves that you see on TV as someone looks up above their left shoulder and starts to think back. If it is flat screen you may need to sit by an exhaust pipe for a few minutes - with the car on of course.)

 

Anyway I digress (it makes it greener on my side of the fence <boom, boom>)

 

In full detail:

Friday. Newcastle airport, late afternoon. A couple of warm up pints. Darren shamed as they asked to look at the soles of his trainers whilst passing security which had gaping big holes in both of them. Landed Easyjet (bit wavy but okay) at Stansted and whisked off to the Holiday Inn for a few post match bottles of Strongbow.

Saturday morning, we managed to set the wakeup call on the television correctly and were up by 4:30. Off to Stansted which was unamusingly packed full of people getting on my plane (Ryanair this time). Nice easy flight though. A bit of nodding off, but managed to catch the Alps. Landed at about nineish. Bus into Milan (Landed at Bergamo), and an hour later arrive at The Hotel Berna, Milan. A bit strange. Really nice hotel next to the train station. Surrounded by 'ladies of the night' and people with giant dogs. The ladies of the night were a bit worse for wear. If you look on the front of a Terry Pratchet novel and see a gnarled witch - they were very much like that. I can't think they made more than 100, when they were younger and getting paid in Lira. Did a tour of Milano, taking in loads of buildings and the Last Supper (hence why we were doing the tour as otherwise you can't see the painting as it is booked up for months - hence a £30 per person tour which we would never have normally gone on).

First night was a good one. Hit a Trattoria (not the one we were aiming for as that was closed. It was a Saturday night after all). I had Mussel Soup, Fish Roe and Spaghetti and three giant prawns. With a bottle of Pinot Grigio. Then it was to the localish Irish bar. We tried to get the underground. but it was closed. It was a Saturday night after all. So Joe Baxi loaned us a hand. The Irish bar we discovered was an Italian bar selling very poor cider/Guinness/John Smiths. After one we made our excuses and left to find the next one. Which was closed, Saturday night you see. However on the way we passed an American bar, so thought we'd wing it in there. After a few JD & Cokes I thought I'd go for a nice rum & Coke. After posing the question of whether he had rum, he gave me the rum list. No really. I had a sizeable portion of a Guyanese rum (6 Euros) which came with some dark chocolate. It was lovely. So I figured the 11 Euro one must be outstanding. It was, but at 11 Euros I decided that discretion was the better part of valour and went back to JD & Cokes. Ended up fairly leathered and had to get a taxi back too, it was Sunday morning after all.

Sunday, up at 11 and off to the San Siro. Got tickets which were okay. Down by the pitch (about 15-20 rows back) level with the penalty area. Inter battered Parma 2-0, in the most one sided game you could wish to see. Parma were rubbish (Ranieri there now). Back to the hotel. Quick SS&S and walked to the next eatery (remarkably close to the American bar). Took about half an hour to walk there but gave us some idea of scale. Menu solely in Italian, but it was recommended. Had some bruscchetta wi' tomatoes and basil, and tuna steaks. Bottle of the house red. Felt underdressed, so didn't hang around. Off to a couple of Irish bars which were equally as rubbish as the one from Saturday. Got underground back to the hotel, it goes on Sundays apparently. Couple at that bar and off to bed.

Monday. Bought some drink in. Counted money. Went a bit pale. Thought it might be cheaper later on - Milan is very pricey. Looked around a bit in the centre. Walked around. got lost. Walked some more. Thought we recognised a building, so walked towards it. Found an underground stop. Realised it was the one next to ours and that we'd been walking a bit too much. Then it was off to the original trattoria that I'd been looking for on the first day. T'was open this time. Waiter takes the mickey out of Darren who is badly trying to order in Italian. Refuses to serve him until he pronounces things somewhere near correctly. Mark finds this most amusing, as for some reason he has a reasonable grasp on things. I seem to remember Dried beef, Seafood risotto and veal as the three courses, with a bottle of red (I got bored with picking my own so asked the waiter to pick one). Very good, but we were waiting for the bill for 45 minutes as the place was so busy.

Underground closed, so hit some really local bars. Wine consumed in those too, then back to the hotel for a couple of JD&Coke’s and a 25cl bottle of wine purchased earlier and a bottle of Bacardi breezer.

Tuesday. off to Pisa on the train. Tickets already in hand offa we went. Train absolutely rammed down to Florence, then across to Pisa empty except for beggars who kept asking for money. "Parle Inglese?". No, oh well I can't give you anything then. Walked around Pisa picking out bars and such. Not going in but preparing. It was getting warm - early twenties. Went to the local eatery as recommended by the waiter. Had a glass of the water before setting off. Had three course meal (Bruscchetta, Mussels and Steak in a reduced balsamic sauce) and a 1/2 litre of red wine. Finished the meal by stating to Darren that we "Are living like kings" Then laughed like Brian Blessed. Then off to the bars. They were all without fail dreadful. Went in about five and had a pint in each. Got to the final one, which although poor was much better than all the others. Had a pint there, a JD&Coke and a glass of red.

5am. Hold on they didn't show this in the 'How to live like kings guide of 1988'. Needless to say I was on the Porcelain telephone for a couple of hours.

Wednesday. Stopped in. Had a Twix and two bottles of mineral water. Why had this happened. The six dodgy pints? The slightly undercooked steak? What probably amounts to another bottle of wine? My friend Jack? I don't think so. It was that bleedin' glass of water.

Thursday. Rushed off feeling crap (the hotel was okay - except the beds which were a thin mattress on top of some wooden boards, a bit like 'Other than that, how was the play Mr Lincoln?') to see the Tower. No point in missing it. Looked in the cathedral. Darren had said it costs 3 Euros and is full of adverts. Service on so was free and adverts removed. That made me feel better. Back to Florence. Got some people sat opposite us. they smelt and asked you for money. Tried to teach her how to say it in English but she just looked at me blankly and pointed at her Euro in her hand. I took pity on her and decided not to take it off her.

Landed at Florence. Got a taxi to the hotel. Put stuff away and got a briefing with a map. 'The hotel is here', circles hotel. 'The train station is here, 400 m down the road'. Hold on that taxi driver drove us round for five minutes and charged us a tenner the cheeky bu...

Off we went undeterred and found the Irish bar. Fell to our knees in celebration. It was a proper one. It served real drink. Nipped in on the afternoon for a swift pint. Feeling a bit better now but not great. Had a small meal of Bruscchetta and veal. Not feeling too grand now. Off to the hotel bar. Had a Bacardi Breezer and went to bed.

Friday. Leapt out of bed feeling grand. Walked around Florence. Saw the science museum with Galileo's finger in it (and his telescope as well as loads of other stuff). Pretty good if slightly over long. Looked in the cathedral and similar buildings. Looked at the queue to the Afuzzi. Wrote that one off for the holiday. Went at the last minute to see David (as the queues had dwindled by 6). Thought, my he looks like a hobbit (with a small...). Went to the Irish bar. Had a few whilst watching erm, might have been City or Everton or some rubbish like that. Found a nice eatery on the same road although they had a little trouble squeezing us in. Dead good food and back on the wine now. Went to the Irish Bar afterwards and remember drinking mini-Guinesses (coffee liqueurs). Got very, very drunk.

Saturday. Rested up. Went to the football. Saw a completely one sided game. More than you would wish to see, 4-0. Went to the Irish bar. Watched the scummers get done by Pompey. Darren was having a dodgy day, but Mark was back on form - so we caught something to eat on the way back to the hotel where we had a few in the hotel bar. Cocktails that is.

Sunday. Day of rest. Did God's work. Well, went to the Irish bar and got lashed whilst watching England lose to the Aussies and then went back to the eatery who gave us an hour to eat a three course meal before heading back for a final few and back to the hotel.

Monday. Off to Bergamo. It had been late twenties in Florence and the cool of Bergamo was looking quite good. Arrived there on a train journey through hell. Town after derelict town. Miscreants in the train. Not great. Arrived at the station and decided that we would have no taxi driver whip us this time. Set off at a brisk pace. an hour later having walked 3 miles in what turned out to be late twenties there too, considered this might not have been the best of ideas. Anyway we had arrived and it looked alright. It was just a stop off before flying, so a nice and cheap hotel. Nice and cheap 4 star hotel. The room had a lounge. It had them jazzy beds that astronauts help develop (and cost about a grand each). It had a jacuzzi. It had it's slippers in my bag. Needless to say we were so impressed we ate there. That wasn't the best of ideas, but it could have been worse. So we drank there. Cocktail night for Mark as he tried to spend his Euros. Whisky Sour, Black Russian, some fruity thing, some whisky thing, lots of Rum things, still couldn't spend it.

So now I have 25 Euro's on my mantelpiece whilst some young girl starves on a train reciting "Ima poor. Canav moni pees".

 

 

I hate Bergamo plane station.

 

Darren shamed as they check his shoes on the way back too. Then he gets picked for the 'put your trainers on the conveyor belt' only to reveal his holey socks. Disgraceful I say. Well I would have if I hadn't moved away from him.

Edited by OldhamSheridan
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Then there is Germany:(I have these all done already)

 

 

Tuesday 8th April 2008.

Finished work. Actually had to do some as I had a bit of a rush on in the afternoon, due to a meeting with the bossman about me progressing up the pay scales, I somehow managed to convince someone I do more work than I did when I started here. So it was off home. Finish off the packing and onto the train up to Edinburgh. Had a few rail beers on the way. Stopped at a hotel about 100 metres from the station, The Jury's Inn. Popped along to an Indian, The 9 Cellars, for a bite to eat. Like most the restaurants I'd looked this up in advance so knew (a) the menu and (B) that it was slightly different to your normal Indian menu. Had a Palak Kebab (I wanted to see how you stuff cheese and mint into spinach and lentil) and Nalli Gosht (lamb shank with a curry yoghurt type thing). Quite nice and not too much eaten that we couldn't have a few pints afterwards. Missed the Arsenal versus Liverpool second half though.

 

Wednesday 9th April 2008.

Asked for a wake up call the night before. They didn't bother to do one. Quickly got ready (no shower/bath) and paid up somehow biting my tongue. Got the bus out to the plane station in plenty of time. Had a croissant and latte in a bid to rid myself of all my English change (I'd earlier paid for my bus fair with 3 £1 coins and 4 50p's, only for Darren to pay next with a £10 note. Guess what he got as his change?)

Took off at about half nine and landed at around half twelve. Landed in the nice pleasant weather, not too hot but not coat weather. Got some woman to help us with the train ticket, well she volunteered realising we were English/spackers. Caught the train in and went in search of the hotel. A gentleman intercepted us outside the station asking where we wanted to go and directing us to the hotel. I did however have a map and after a while of walking realised we were ever so slightly off course from it. So we diverted back to that. The hotel was not there though. Strange I thought, but after about 40 minutes of looking found the hotel. A four star hotel, which was really an overrated three star hotel. Right by the main train station (not the one we got off at). Anyway, we settled in. Went across the road to a supermarket and got in a pile of booze and some food for our dinners, rather than throwing money needlessly away throughout the holiday. Had a shower, quite possibly the highest pressure shower I've ever had. On at least four occasions (each) through our brief stay there the shower shot out of its holdings by switching it on alone. Then it was off to the Osteria Italia, described as "Hitlers favourite restaurant in Munich". I presume they mean 70 years ago, unless they know something we don't. Or maybe it was Albert Hitler, the local greengrocers favourite restaurant in Munich. Anyway, we arrived there following a short discrepancy between the mutimap map and the child like drawings of a map on their website. I mumbled something bordering on anglo-german for can we have a table for two. I think it was "Einen table for Swei please". It worked. We got the last table (at 7:45) available. I was getting an inkling that this was quite posh. He asked what we would like to drink on handing out the menus. I said I'd check the wine, Darren asked for a beer. They didn't serve beer. In Germany? No beer? We were struggling a bit. Our German was poor. Our Italian was poor. Their German and Italian was great. Their English was not too great. So it was a matter of finding something to eat that we could figure out what it was using a £1 pocket guide to German. Following a ten minute period I was all lined up for everything. We settled for a house white as it was a mere E20, rather than the cheapest bottle which was E32. I quite fancied some of the E700 stuff but thought I could splash all of my cash over the whole holiday rather than one bottle of wine. Can't remember the starter but the main was veal kidneys in a mustard sauce. It didn't turn out too expensive as we split the wine (although the house white was by far and away the best wine of the whole holiday).

After that off to the centre (around Marienplatz) in search of a proper beer for him and I'd have a bit of wine and then we'd find an Irish bar the next night. Happily as I was saying that we passed an Irish bar and went in there. The temperature went up by around 10c up to scorchio in the pub. It was fairly busy as the football was on telly full of Dirties (they were on telly). Anyway, watched that and hung around until ten until we had to declare due to heat exhaustion. Back at the hotel I had some fizzy orange wine type stuff (7%). To be honest I had a couple of glasses before going out. Put the telly on and found a channel that was providing us with HC German naughty stuff. Joy unconfined! Brilliant and dreadful in the same moment. We get to see ladies doing stuff that no lady would possibly do, but it was a twin room. How can we solve this? Loud singing showers? Nipping out to the supermarket? The German TV knocking it off after one minute of it being on? Yes, that'd do it the &*%%£('s.

 

Thursday 10th April 2008

Up and off by 11. Today is Dachau. Always likely to be a cheerful trip. Very handy having a history teacher with you who specialises in the Second World war. "Ah, this is where they sent Fritz Gerlich. He was arrested for anti-Hitler propaganda. They sent his glasses back to his widow with bits of him still on them"... Mark used the opportunity to take pictures of ladies bottoms in places only a weirdo could (the crematorium etc.). It's a talent I tell you. After 6 hours of looking round and taking the aforementioned pictures it was time to head off back. Got a postcard for work there. Wrote it out: "To John, Chris, Karen, Julie, Neale, Harry, Neil (and Jill I suppose *She's on maternals*). Wish you were here, Mark". Sadly it got lost and never posted. Boo, hiss.

That night at Seehaus im Englischgarten in the English Gardens. There I had Veal in an anchovy, caper and tuna sauce (and the capers where the size of grapes), Guinea fowl with Japanese horseradish sauce and marinated pepper -glass noodles, Trio of rhubarb and a bottle of wine. Darren had a beer (and soup and pork). Then off to the previous nights hot Irish Bar. The only problem Bayern were playing and it was rammed and even hotter. I managed to find a seat to watch Rangers, along with two other people. Once Bayern went 3-1 down though people started leaving only for Getafe to mess it up. But by then enough people had left for it to be almost T Shirt temperatures again. There was a Karaoke after but Darren didn't get his name down in time - so there was no 'Bat out of Hell' that night. Back to the hotel and a few drinkypoos. Tried a bit of a local cider, but didn't like it so went back onto the orange pop stuff.

 

Friday 11th April 2008.

Choo choo. Off to Nurnberg on the steam train. Well maybe not steam train. Maybe it was a 300km an hour Intercity Express. Had a peep around the rally grounds, well it was next to the football ground we were scoping out for the evening game. They are pretty big, well huge. There were some people on the bit where Hitler gave his speeches so couldn't take a picture of Darren doing his impressions :-(

After that into Nuremberg for a look round, buy some ginger bread and have a bite to eat. Had something to eat around six. As we were settling down to our food (around half five) of soup with dumplings followed by beef in a ginger bread sauce, Darren points out it is drizzling. Sure enough walking through town to the least German railway in Germany (trains late all the time) it was raining. Darren hadn't brought a coat (he had a jacket on). Anyway onto the train, a very congested train - standing room only and not much of that. Walking from the station to the ground I commented how it was rather busy for 7 O'clock (8pm kickoff). Get to the ground and ask for some tickets. Sold out.

Thankfully someone heard out predicament and offered us two tickets at E20 each, but not together. As they were E28 tickets I suspect the touts need to learn the right way of doing things over there. Anyhow, we were in and they didn't mind me having my camera (which was a worry every time we went in a ground). So sat down, towards the edge of the roof. Managed a picture but then it started hammering it down and I didn't want to take any further pictures as it was it may get the camera wet. So I put that as well away as possible. Every so often the wind caught the rain in the wrong direction and it would welly it down on you for a few minutes. Wolfsberg miss a penalty. Rain calms off. Rain picks up. Nürnburg score. Shot at the keeper who comically (and I really do mean comically) fumbles the back into his net. Getting on a bit. Nürnburg break through. Clean through on goal, knocks it past the keeper. Goooooaaaaaa... ball stops in the water on the line. Cleared.

Halftime. Delay in the second half of twenty minutes, that's when Darren and I knew the inevitable had happened. Match abandoned. The locals hung on whilst we scarpered for a train that wasn't totally over subscribed. Game confirmed as off when we get back to the hotel. A few orange drinks (I got 4 litres of the stuff) and off to sleepsville.

 

Saturday 12th April 2008

The big game of the weekend. We'd given up on getting in the Bayern Munich v Dortmund game on the Sunday, but here was the main event. 2pm kickoff, Spielvereinigung Unterhaching v SV Wacker Burghausen. Local transport took us out there (Underground & bus), in a corker of a little stadium. The stadium owns the record of the lowest average Bundesliga crowd when Unterhaching were up there for a couple of seasons. Standing at one end for away fans of which there were a remarkable amount, two sides of seating and an open end for home fans with a picturesque club house behind it. It's a sports club which specialised in bobsleigh before getting a football team. They had a coach that went bezza more often than Neil Warnock and who looked like Arfur's nephew in minder. A good game of passing football, although they did perform Oldham type passes quite often. 1-1 draw. Got a top for myself and a pennant for my bro' and then on our way to the train station. There we were until all the Wacker fans came surrounded by lots of Police, about forty odd (more than that had been at, or appeared at any game after - with the possible exception of Frankfurt). They had pepper spray. They had batons. They had handcuffs. They had Tazer guns. They had guns. They were seriously tooled up. Anyhow got on the train with all the fans of both clubs thinking that would be that. But no, they all got on with us. They all got off the stop before us, but it was serious overkill for a game at that level. It turned out they were local rivals and there'd been a bit of bother at previous games. Well I didn't know that! Off to the Irish bar to watch the results come in. Hartlepool lose, Oldham win. Everyone's happy (because Gillingham lost). Darlo start their slide too. Will they be there for Dale to play in the playoffs? Will Dale be in the playoffs? Went to a Chinese as couldn't be bothered hunting out the restaurant of the day. This, I had finally figured out, was due to Multimap. It doesn't &*%$ing work to the exactness in Germany that it does in England. Chinese was rubbish but filled a gap. Back to the Irish bar. A few more drinks, back to the hotel for a bit of fizzy orange, then fell asleep reading.

 

Sunday 13th April 2008

Woke up, thought 'I must have nodded off there reading'. My light was still on and my book was still open on the page; and I was right I had nodded off. For 8 hours. Anyway it doesn't matter it is National Do Nothing Day. Lay around doing nothing until 4pm. The smut stayed on for 15 minutes in the morning which was a boner. Sorry, bonus.

Off to the Irish bar for the Munich's v Arsenal. Disappointed as normal. Got better when Real won though. Had a meal in the bar. I had the Fisherman's Friend Platter which was nothing short of vile. Darren had Lamb Chops with Mash and gravy. Had loads to drink. Late on he came back and complained that he just thrown up in the bogs. I was sympathetic; "That's a shame, hold on...", "Yeah, two more mate", "....it was probably that crap you ate earlier".

 

Monday 14th April 2008

Darren feels bobbins. I know this as I can hear him retching in the toilet. Ah well, it half seven, maybe he'll brighten up by 9 when we have to be out of the hotel. He does but not much. He doesn't eat to avoid barfing on the train. By the time we hit Dusseldorf at ten to three he has brightened up. This place I know where it is as I had directions other than multimap. Ten minutes on foot. This one's a three star hotel, but single rooms - thank god, as after nigh on a week with smut but no *cough* outlet, my dreams have been getting odd to say the least. It really was an underrated four star hotel. Anyhow after a sleep he feels up to a little to eat so we head out for a bite. We decide on the restaurant in the tower in the centre. I reckoned when we set off that he wasn't dressed to smartly (he never does), but thought like others we'd wing it. Anyhow we get there and there are people in suits and whatnot and I'm thinking that I, in shirt, jeany trouser things and shoes may be underdressed. I look for a kind way of saying to him that he is dressed like a tramp and that I doubt they'd let him in. Happily the thing is at the top of the tower and there is no one to ask about reservations at the bottom and it costs money to go up (about a pound). I make the excuse that I ain't paying that only to be told they have no space and say we should try elsewhere. I also point out that he is dressed like a tramp.

We instead go to Tuesdays restaurant, the Tante Anna. This is the one I had lined up and wasn't going to miss. We'd have gone there anyway if only to book a table for Tuesday. So we go on Monday instead. Darren is managing to eat, and they serve him 'the beer of the holiday'. So he is fairly happy. Whilst he lines up his two courses I line up the five course menu. This is preceded by a rabbit terrine and tomato risotto couple of complementary tasters, and the main menu consists of Carpaccio of smoked lamb with pulp, sea bass with pearl barley risotto, quail cutlet with celery and potato crust, small assorted cheese specialties - which come with chutneys/sweet accompaniments, and mille-feuille of white chocolate mousse with chocolate and pistachio ice candy (this I would say isn't one of my favourites so I swap with Darren who decides to have a dessert so well are things going down - so becomes rhubarb and sorbet in a champagne soup (i.e. champers poured all over it)). With this I have a few glasses of house wine at about E8 a pop. Overall great meal and at £120 for two it shows (and mine at about £80). Off to a few Irish bars but they are largely rubbish so back to the hotel room for some orange stuff and a bit of Jagermeister which I had picked up for a Euro. Asleep in no time.

 

Tuesday 15th April 2008

Off to Koln for game number 3. It's Cologne v VfL Osnabruck. Have a look around Cologne. It's got a cathedral and erm... a touristy area, and that's about it. We got there fairly late for this one, but thank god, as there is little to do. Sat up in the gods for this one, in a very large stadium (c60,000). The crowd was pretty large and it is another that keeps its atmosphere. All the German grounds so far are helped by standing areas and a bloke with a megaphone telling the crowd which songs to sing (and a drum that is soft rather than earsplittingly loud). Decent game, but a bit one sided. Cologne go two nil up and we leave to beat the rush. About 40,000 there to see the game though. Darren gets excited as Kaiserslautern win and may not go down if they manage a couple more victories. Mark fancies a third division game next time he's there again, so hopes not as we'll probably watch them. Back to Dusseldorf and it's Spanish time. I have snails and a steak. Darren has soup and a more expensive smaller steak. Irish bars, but back pretty swiftly, i.e. by half one.

 

Wednesday 16th April 2008

The one we paid all the money for today. It turned out at £70 a ticket each, but it is Eintracht Frankfurt v Bayern Munich. Set off at 12ish and get in by half two. Locate the ground and then try and find the restaurant Mark had in mind. Darren doesn't fancy it as it is all in German and we have no menu and it looks a little

too local. Instead we find an Indian and have a meal there. It's okay, but nothing special. Have a pint in an Irish bar which again is godawful (they're a bit hit and miss these things) and then off to the game. Stood up in the Bayern end wanting Frankfurt to win. Frankfurt score (Mark nudges Darren excitedly and takes a few photos). Bayern score (crowd jumps up and down, Mark takes a few pictures of that too). Frankfurt score (Mark nudges Darren). Goal disallowed (Mark stops nudging Darren), Bayern score. Bayern score again (which Mark gets a great photo of). Fans wave Auf Weidersein to Frankfurt fans. Bayern celebrate as if they'd won the title - to be fair they had practically. Great game, but wrong result and easily the best atmosphere. Back to the station. Mark buys a bottle of grapefruit stuff, Smirnoff Ice, orange alcopop, cider and a small bottle of sour apple schnapps. The grapefruit turns out to be beer so gets thrown away. the cider is the worst cider I have ever tasted. Beyond all levels. I manage about half a pint but that too is thrown. The rest is okay. Polish off the Jagermeister at the hotel and finish the orange stuff.

 

Thursday 17th April 2008

The long journey back to Munich. However this is helped that I sleep most of the way and the train does 302km/hour (beating the previous record). God German trains are comfy. Back in Munich we head out to Hallbergmoos by the airport. We get to the station and walk to the hotel. It's only 4km with 14kg of stuff so it's all alright. Drop the stuff off and head into Munich. Buses are free as they figure you are using the S-Bahn (which we were). Into Munich have a tradition (if touristy) German meal at the Ratskeller (town hall). I have soup with dumplings and veal sausages with mash and sauerkraut. Then it's off the Alliance Arena for our last game. TSV 1860 Munich v SV Wehen Wiesbaden. Munich win 2-0. An absolutely soulless stadium when there are 20,500 people in it. Looks alright, but I suspect it is much more impressive when Bayern fill it instead. Back to the Irish Bar in Munich. Miss last train back. Get it part of the way there before sharing with an Indian lad and two Austrians back to Hallbergmoos (and they go on to the airport). Have a celebratory bottle of wine from the minibar. Sleep.

 

Friday 18th April 2008

Buy 1 litre tankard to stop me from having to walk to and from the fridge so often and chocolates for the team (uses up the Euro's). Get back by ten past eight. Quick change and out to the pub by 08:45 in plenty of time before they stop doing meals at 9. They are doing no meals as there is a wedding next door. Do we go to the chip shop and the Duke? No. I say stay put, and hey presto by half ten chicken legs and garlic bread come as left overs from the wedding. We eat them. The rest of the pub asks where they went. I point at Darren.

 

THE END

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