On June 6th, Brian left Ireland's shores on tour of Europe and European Cities for the next few months, sending his reports and experiences to us here - Prague, Budapest, Munich.... and many many more ..... Enjoy.

Prague
13 June 2004 
Damien, Mark and I are currently sitting in a "Pension", in the Zizchov area of Prague. The England - France is about to start (we are all tipping France, Mark and Damien say 2-1, I say, very optimistically, 5-0. It will be the only time in my life where I will cheer Thierry Henry and Patrick Vieira. I draw the line at Robert Pires though)

Tonight is our last night in Prague. We have resisted the temptation to watch the game in an Irish, English or even local bar and are sitting, drinking beer and eating crisps in front of a TV that reminds me of an old TV we used to had which exploded in the late 80's when I was a kid. We decided not to watch the game in the centre of
Prague because we had already been in Caffreys Irish Bar for the first test between Ireland and South Africa, and it was full of English guys over for a birthday. Beer in there was more expensive than other places (goes with the Irish tag I suppose) but the food was nice and there was a friendly atmosphere in there. 

Before I go any further I suppose I should explain a little about this trip, and ourselves. Damien, Mark, Steve and I met in college in WIT, in 1997 and have remained friends since then. Damien are I are going to be travelling around Europe for about two months in total, whereas Steve and Mark came out to Prague for a bit of a holiday. 

Prague didn't start well for us. We trusted Steve (well, forced upon him) to book accommodation, which he thought he did, but didn't. So there we were, in Prague at twenty to twelve on our first night and having nowhere to stay. We ended up getting a hotel for around 35 euro each, on Wencelas Square (Grand Hotel Evropa, which contains a nightclub. "Nightclub" in Prague, apparently means "brothel"). Accommodation sorted we decided to have a stroll around, to see if we could find a bar to have a beer or two. In Prague, like most European cities, Prostitution is very common, with hookers every thirty yards down the street. One of them "done" me (that is, pickpocketed me!), by coming up to me, pushing me against a wall and lifting a knee to my groin while "relieving" me of about 65 euro. I didn't even notice until I got back to the hotel, so she was obviously a talented girl in that aspect of her profession. 

It's not only the prostitutes that indicate Prague,s liberal standpoint on all things social. On every street corner guys hand out fliers and cards for various strip clubs and brothels. It was very funny listening to two guys try to outdo each other to entice us to "their" club; one of them told us we could get "fresh punani" in his place! We must have looked like we were from Staines. 

For the first few days (Steve's holiday; Steve arrived with Damien and I but Mark came later in the week) it was all about the beer. We told ourselves that once Mark arrived we'd do some sightseeing and cut back a bit on the alcohol. Fat chance. The beer over here is fantastic, much better than the piss we get back at home. Also, when you can get 9 pints for about a fiver, you tend not to notice yourself drinking so much. Because of the way beer over here is brewed, you don't get a hangover either. Not one us had to take tablets any morning, despite spending the night either on something that was too soft or too hard, which meant an uncomfortable night's sleep on top of a rake of drink. The one downside to this is the weird dreams we've all been having (Steve dreamt the he scored sixty five goals against England but it was only because "Steve McManaman was playing centre half") Our goal is to drink 100 beers by the end and although at the beginning we thought this would be an easy target to hit, it's become apparent that it won't all be plain sailing - a lot of hard work is going to have to be put in to reach our goal. 

It's a pity we didn't do more sightseeing in Prague (we did the usual things, in one day!). I'll come back again in the future and do all that properly with a girlfriend. Coming over here with a group of lads just means you'll drink about 10 pints a day, wake up the next morning fresh as a daisy, and with pretty much the same amount of money in your pocket as you had the night before! 

I´d recommend Prague to anyone who was thinking of visiting. Everything is dirt cheap but despite this 
quality is in abundance - beer, food, and the women are fantastic looking!

Onto Budapest.........
PS  If you come to Prague and you´re travelling on the trams make sure to get a ticket. We chanced it and got caught, and had to pay a fine of about 13 euros. I know it doesn´t sound much but over here it means 26 pints!

Budapest 
Sunday, 20th June. 
We have been in Budapest (just myself and Damien) since last Tuesday morning having arrived by overnight train from Prague. Not the most comfortable of journeys´; nine hours in an extremely warm carraige, interrupted every couple of hours by someone either wanting to check your ticket or your passport. I tell you, it´s a strange experience to be woken up in Slovakia at 5 am by someone who then laughs at your passport picture. The journey wasn't helped by the fact that we had spent the preceding hours in Rocky O´Reilly´s Irish bar drinking copious amounts of Budvar, while watching Sweden beat Bulgaria 5-0. 

Speaking of Irish bars, we have been in two here in Budapest - "The longford" (I think) and "The Irish Cat". The Longford looked alright on the inside, but we were there during the day so we couldn´t really gauge what kind of place it was. The Irish Cat was full of Hungarians supporting England, a strange combination of nationalities. There are other Irish pubs in Budapest, but we took it handy for the week, after Prague we were wrecked and weren´t too interested in boozing. 

Since Wednesday we have been staying in an apartment, fairly close to the city centre, for 16 a night. I know we could have got somewhere for about 9 a night, but we wanted a bit of luxury, more specifically, a tv to watch the football! This is going to be the last of the expensive accomodation, we´re heading to Munich after this and we´ll be camping there, to save a few quid. 

Budapest is a big city. For some reason, I had assumed that it was smaller than Prague; but it´s far bigger. When you compare the two cities, they´re not dissimilar. Both have a river flowing through (similar shape also!) and there are various historical buildings on the "other" side. It´s more cosmopolitan the Prague, but fewer people speak English and generally we found it less touristy. Trying to do Budapest on foot will really take it out of you, we walked around for about three hours the other day and we still didn´t see half of what there is to see in the city centre. It hasn´t been as hot here as Prague, although I don´t think that´s always the case. 

To be honest, we didn´t enjoy the week as much as last week. We preferred Prague, but Budapest is still a fine place to visit. It was always going to be tough following Prague; especially with just the two of us here now. Perhaps I´ll come back again in the future NOT having spent the previous week in a drunken haze! 

Off to Munich tomorrow, getting a lift through an agency. Should be there at 7 o´clock (the journey is about eight hours) and we have nowhere to stay. We´ll worry about that when we get there.

BEER Review

Altough we are compiling a beer list, there are a few
little things that have to b taken into account when
rating various beers. First of all, to really judge a
beer, you should spend the whole night drinking it, to
get a feel for it. Also some of the beers on our list
were bottles, and therefore not on draught, which is
what we would have perferred. Marks out of ten were
awarded, and some people might disagree with a few of
our decisions. But tough, it's our list......

Oh, and excuse the spellings!

Prague
1. Pilsner Urquell
Most common of all the Czech beers, refreshing crisp
taste, although found to lose it's quality after a few
pints 7/10

2. Gambrinus Light
Nice beer, similar to Pilsner, Steve and Damien
preferred it to Pilsner, I didn't 7/10

3. Gambrinus Dark
Drinkable dark beer in a country not known for it's
dark beers. More of a nod to dark beer than anything
else 5.5/10

4. Brannik
Not a great beer, we thought it was quite bland
compared to the beers we had previously that day
4.5/10

5. Bernard Light
Wheaty tasty beer, best we had in Prague. Not easy to
find, but was in our local, a music bar where one
night some woman kept lifting her top of to show her
boyfriend her chest 9/10

6. Bernard Dark
Mix betweeen Smithwicks and Guinness, not fantastic,
may struggle with it if not a stout drinker 5/10

7. Kelt Stout
"Like drinking a can of Guinness out of an empty
peanut packet" - Steve
Salted peanut packet, according to Steve. Mark liked
it 4/10

8. Staropramen Sveltly
Very nice beer, although not as nice as out of a
bottle at home 7/10

9. Staropramen Granat (semi dark)
A good cross between light and dark beer 7/10

10. Krusovice
Another excellent beer, one of the best, drank a lot
of it in Pizzeria Einstein, served to us by waitress
who we all had a thing for (someone you could bring
home to your mother!) 8/10

11. Budvar
Common, Americans would love it. Mark was very
disappointed with it, him being a Budvar drinker back
home 5/10

12. Velvet
Very creamy dark beer, got it in "Rocky O'Reilly's
Irish Bar", similar to Kilkenny and Caffreys 6/10

13. Kosel Dark
Nice beer, similar again to Smithwicks 6/10

14. Starobrno
Very smooth, light and refreshing. Very drinkable 7/10

15. Platan (Btl)
Very nice beer, crisp, similar to Franziskaner Kristal
6.5/10

16. D
Bland enough beer, brought to us by the same people
who brought us Staropramen. Lads think its worse than
Budweiser, I don't agree 1/10

17. Kosel Light (Btl)
A step above "D", bland enough 2/10

18. Samson (Btl)
Similar to Budvar, who make it, drunk by that type of
person 5/10

19. Radegast (Btl).
No taste whatsover. Sh1t. 1/10

20. Rytir (Btl)
Better than Radegast, but unusual taste 2/10

21. Zlatopramen (Btl)
That's more like it. Crisp, tasty beer 6/10

22. Primus (Btl)
Quite nice, surpirisingly tasty. Damien is not sure
about it however 5.5/10

23. Klasik (Btl)
Boring enough 3/10

---
Myself and Damien took it very handy in Budapest,
having done a rediculous amount of boozing in Prague.
So, we probably didn´t get some main beers. But, we
got a few
----

24. Dreher Light
Very good beer, easy to drink, and everywhere sells it
7/10

25. Dreher Dark
We think this is Dreher dark, but not sure. Damien
didn´t like it, I thought it was alright, if a bit
heavy 5/10

26. Borsodi (Btl)
Quite impressive beer, clean taste, but loses its
taste after a while 6/10

27. Tikettes (Btl)
Slight smokey, meaty taste, very strange, not great
but gets better as you drink it 5/10

28. Szalon (Btl)
Again slight smokey taste to begin, weak, it´s label
suggests 4.8% surprisingly. Gets better as you drink
it 5,5/10

29. Zlaty Bazant (Btl)
An average beer, drank while having pizza 5/10

30. Kobanyai (Btl)
Only ok average beer 4.5/10

31. Arany Aszok (Btl)
Same as above 4.5/10

32. Soproni Aszok Quite a good refreshing beer, very
enjoyable 6,5/10

33. Steffl (Btl)
A very good strong beer worthy of 6,5/10

34. Kaiser (Btl)
Austrian beer, I think, another good beer not as good
as Steffl 6/10

35. Borosyzan
A very good beer according to Damien, I thought it was
only ok 6,5/10
---------------

Beer Review 36-67
July 4th
----------------
36. Spaten 
Disappointed tohave found out not really regarded in Munich, although we're big fans back home. Still thought it was nice 7.5 

37. Hacker- Pschorr Hell 
I thought it was a bit sweet, but we'd had a few Spaten at that stage. 6 

38. Kuchlbauer Weissbier 

39. Kuchlbauer Dunles Weissbier 
Both drank in Killian's Irish bar, both very tasty. 8 and 7 respectively. 

40 Augutiner Hell 
Irish barman in Killian's recommended this as Munich's finest, we thought there were one or two better around. 6.5 

41. Franziskaner Weissbier Hell
 Best of all beer in Munich. My favourite at home, and expectations were met. 9 

42. Franziskaner Weissbier Dunkle
 Excellent as well 8 

43. Hacker- Pschorr Weissbier
 Another quality Weissbier 7.5 

44. Erdinger 
Most people know it at home, we don't drink it over there, and Germans agree with us! To be fair, it is better on tap over here but it's rare enough to see it served 7 

45 Lowenbrau 
I wasn't superimpressed by it, Damien thought it was alright 6 

46. Augutiner Edelstoff 
Apparently stronger, we thought it was weaker going by taste. Not great but drinkable enough 5.5 

47 Augustiner Pils 
Best Pils of the lot, very tasty, pity about the lamb cutlets that we had with it that made Damien sick 8

48Augustiner Dunkel 
Another fine dark beer 7 

49 Hochzeitsbier 
Campsite beer, drinkable. Because we had to drink a lot of it, we got used to it so we're giving it 6 

50 Paulaner Weissbier$ 
Nice , drank in the company of a pimp who tried to do a bit of business for himself and his ladyfriend 7 

51 Paulaner Hell 
I struggled with this, in the same bar. Damien give's it his ok 6.5 

52 Hacker-Pschorr Dunkel 
ANOTHER FINE DARK BEER 6.5 

53 Hacker- Pschorr Pils 
Nice, drank after visiting Dacau. Needed something strong 7 

54 Spaten Pils (Btl) 
Very nice, albiet of a bottle 7 

55 Prizregent Luitpold (Btl) 

56 SchneiderWeisse (Btl) 

57 Paulaner Wiessbier Dubkle (Btl) 
All nice all get 7 

58 Tucher Helles Weissbier It's a Weissbier, it's nic (they all are) 7 

59. Tucher Dunklee Weissbier Same again 7 

60. Ayinger Hell 6 

61. Ayinger Dunkel 6.5 

62. Ayinger Helles Weissbier 7.5 

63. Ayinger Dunkles Weissbier 7

64. Ayinger Pils 7 
All of these drank in the HardRock cafe. All decent enough 

65. Kaltenberg 
Ok, not bad 6 66, Hofbrau Hell Had a "Mass" (ie 1 litre) in the Hofbrau Haus, enjoyable 7 

67 Hofbrau Dunkel Ditto 7 

We did miss some beers but we did 32 different ones so I think that's enough, don't you?

Beer Review 68-88
20th July
since the beginning of July we have eased up on the
beer. 20 in 20 days

68. Nastro Azzuro

5 euro for o.4L in a restaurant serving the worst
pizza in italy. Ok beer better on tap than in bottle
5.5

69. Jupiler
Initially though it was French, now we think Belgian.
6 euro in a bar in Nice. Not great 3.5

70. Kronenbourg
Drank in an Irish bar in Nice, better but still not
great after drinking so many great beers in Munich 5.5

71. Estrella Galicia (btl)
Drank in Michael Collins Irish bar in Barcelona, again
could be better 5

72. Estrella Damm
Better beer, but still a long way to go to match
German beer 5.5

73. Irish Gold
Drank in Paddy Wacks Irish bar outside the Stade de
France. Even the barman admitted it was shit. And
that's being generous 0/10

74. Gosser
Drank en route from Liechtenstein to Munich/Prague. I
thought it was alright, Damien was less impressed 5

75. Zipfer
A bit pissy 4

76. Schofferhofer Weissbier
Barmaid put lemon in it, ruined it for me. Was loaded
at that stage so I could have been drinking battery
acid for all i knew 4

77. Krusovice dark
I thought alright, but it was my last pint that same
night 5

78. Warka
First pint in Poland, decent enough actually 6

79. Zywiec
Not as good as Warka, but drinkable enough 5.5

80. Belfast
Drank it "Irish Pub" in Warsaw, it should have stayed
in Belfast. Piss 2/10

81. Lech
Not too bad at all 5.5

82. Okocim
Pretty good, worthy of 6

83. Tyskie
Simialr to Lech, drank in same place 5.5

84 Kasztelan (btl)
Drank in hostel pub, pretty decent 6

85 Krolewskie (btl)
Same as above 6 

86 Edelweiss bier
Only ok for a weissbier 5.5

87. Berliner Kindl
Not bad at all 6

88. Schoffer hofer kristall
Clear version of the weissbier, drank in Kilkenny
Irish bar in Berlin, barman couldn't give me a
reasonable explanation why he put lemon in it (told me
not to ask tough questions, but as a scientist, i had
to! ok beer, not a beer to throw a party over 5.5

Munich, Milan, Florence, and Pisa

4th July 2004

As I’m writing, Damien and I are sitting on platform 1, in "Pisa Centrale", awaiting a train to Turin. It's 1 a.m. and our train is at 2.40 a.m. I'm not looking forward to it, night trains are a pain in the ass and I know I'M NOT GOING TO GET ANY SLEEP. I'm Listeninging to R.E.M.'s "Eponymous" album, on Mark’s MP3 player, hoping Michael Stripe will soothe away the Next hour and a half. We are truly in the land of the Euro rail ticket holder.

Let me explain; for three weeks myself and Damien had to do something (i.e. Prague, Budapest and Munich) before our month's rail ticket kicked in. Being the lazy bastards we are, we spent a week in each of these place but this was not great preparation for July - we have to get as much use of our ticket as possible, which means as much travelling as possible, which in turn means doing a lot of walking, a lot of sight seeing, and just being generally b****ck tired.

Like I said we're in Pisa, home to Mona Pisa (see, the travelling is getting to me already!)I jest, of course, it's home to the Leaning Tower, which is the is the only reason we came here. We have temporarily given up booze (well, beer anyway) and are attempting to inject some culture into our sweat-dominated lives. We arrived this evening at about half nine and headed straight to the Tower (about 25 minute walk), took our pictures and listed to an Italian guy play Bob Dylan songs on his guitar. A very nice setting for a Saturday evening. Last night we got into Florence from Milan, and stayed the night in a hotel slightly out of town. It was the best night's sleep I’ve had and by God did I need it! For the previous 10 days or so I hadn't slept in a proper bed so this hotel seemed like heaven! Florence is a beautiful city, best so far in terms of aesthetics. Florence house Michelangelo’s "David" and both myself and Damien were taken aback by it. It has to be seen in the "flesh", if you catch my drift, because it really is an amazing work of art. I've never really had much appreciation for art, but I think it's something I will get into when I go home. The only disappointing thing is that you're not allowed to take any pictures, but that's a minor complaint considering the memory of it is something we'll have forever. We also took a trip up the Duomo, a favourite of Hannibal Lecter's, for a bird's eye view of Florence. It's along way up, so if you can't handle nearly 500 steps don't bother.

New paragraph, new album, Christy Moore's Graffit Tongue. I have a feeling I have a few more to get through tonight. Okay, onto Milan (or should that be back to Milan?). We got an overnight train from Munich to Milan, and arrived yesterday morning feeling absolutely shit. Damien's been sick for a few days, and I was just wrecked. As the train approached I would gladly have not got out if I could have had even three hours uninterrupted sleep (we had to change at Verona at about 5 in the morning). We did shag-all in Milan, bar see the Duomo, which is mightily impressive. Italy is full of religious iconography, and Catholicism is everywhere you look. Here's a hint though, don't get anything at the Duomo Cafe, a cup of tea cost me 4 euro. Thank God I wasn't hungry!

So that's Italy, so far. We're not bothering to go to Rome for 3 reasons: (1) we're too lazy and too fu**ed to go that long way and back (2) It's too big to do in a= day or two (3) See (1) again. Right that's enough, onto Munich.

Munich is beer. Beer is to Munich as Catholicism is to Italy. We drank a lot. And then we drank some more.  If you read the end of the Budapest section you'll know that we were getting a lift (www.kenguru.hu) on Monday 21st June. The journey took 7 hours but it didn't feel like it, the road was perfect and the driver, who spoke no English but had another Hungarian passenger for company, did about 100 mph for the most part of the journey (he hit 170 kmph at one stage). I think we got in at half seven, with nowhere to stay, but soon got a hotel fairly central. Then we went on the piss, had some food, which I saw again the next morning. For seven nights we drank sh**loads in Prague, and always felt fine, but the next day after the first night in Munich I was in ribbons. I felt as though Munich was shaking me ferociously and saying "So you think you drank a lot in Prague, well you ain't seen nothin' yet pal!". Politely of course. Everyone in Munich is polite; from the attendant in the women’s(!) toilets who heard me vomiting in a cubicle and asked me (in English) if I wanted a doctor, to the woman who asked us were we ok (in English) when she saw us looking confused on a train platform, to the pimp who spoke to us for half an hour (in English) about Ireland before trying to make a few quid for him.

Munich was a bit of a wake-up call for us. After spending the first night in a hotel, we have to go for a cheaper option for the remaining days, so a campsite called "The Tent" (imaginatively titled, I know) was where we went. It's about 1.5 hours walk from centre, but with Germany's excellent public transport it seemed a lot closer. We have our own tent with us but there's a big tent at the campsite with wooden floors that would have been as cheap as camping out (about 8.50 a night, including 2 euro worth of breakfast), so we took that instead. We needed some human interaction after the previous weeks and a campsite was perfect for that (An album by Johnny Cash now, one of the ones he made just before he died). We took a few days to get going, both Damien and I are a little shy when it comes to new people, and there were plenty of out going Irish people there, which both helped and hindered our interaction with them. By the time we left, we had come out of our shell and would really have liked to stay on with the Irish crowd there, but on the other hand we needed to get a move on. Pretty much all the Irish staying at the campsite (and there were loads!) were looking for work in Munich for the Summer. Damien and I were together in saying we wouldn't have been able to do that but then again we out of college a few years and too used to having money in our pocket. Second to the Irish at the camp were Americans, all travelling through. Irish people generally don't have a good impression, but in fairness I thought most of them were grand, although there were one or two "stereotypicals". But I suppose you could say that about any country. Damien would disagree, but he's a cynical bastard! He was fit to kill one or two by the last night.

Okay it’s 2.37 a.m. and there's no sign of the train.
This wouldn't have happened in Germany!

We had a couple of rough days in Munich. The beer was taking its toll, physically we were not great (not eating enough, drinking too much, Damien's back was hurting and my ankle was killing me: a week before travelling, I damaged ankle ligaments and even as I write, it's still huge, the swelling hasn't gone down much) added to this we were a little bit bored, and I, not sure about Damien, was feeling homesick, I missed= my friends, family, and my ex girlfriend, and was a little fed up with being away. Plus, money was worrying me. Munich is far more expensive than Prague or Budapest and it was hitting my pocket. Thankfully this problem has since been rectified.

Train has arrived. Might try to get a bit of kip. Will finish in Turin tomorrow (Sunday) morning.

-----------------------------------------------------

Well I never did finish it Sunday morning, it's now Monday lunchtime, and I'm typing while I'm thinking in the town of Ventimiglia, on the Italian Riviera. I’d better finish Munich first.

If you go to Munich, take a trip to Dachau. It's the town where Hitler built his first concentration camp, and visiting the free site is a worthwhile if strange experience. Also, go to the Olympic Stadium. Even if you're not a sports fan it's worth a visit. Taking a bike tour around Munich looks to be worth it, although we didn't do it.

Like I said the main thing about Munich is the beer, by far the best beer in the world, no probably about it (Carlsberg drinkers take note). From what we see, there are five categories : Hell, beer as we know it, Dunkel, dark beer version of Hell, Helles Weissbier, cloudy wheat beer, Dunkles Weissbier, dark weissbier,= and Pils, stronger, nicer tasting version of Hell. Of course there's much more detail than this snippet, but I don't have the time to go into it. Onto the beer list! See Beer review 36 to 67

Turin, Ventimiglia, Nice, Barcelona, Andorra, Paris
11th July

Paris. Rain sodden Paris.

When last I wrote, we were in the town of Ventimiglia, on the Italian Riviera. I kind of skimmed over how we got there, from Turin on the Sunday. We went to Turin because of the Turin shroud, something which has always fascinated m. unfortunately you don’t actually get to see the shroud but you get to see the box it’s kept in (wa-hoo!). We didn’t even see that, but we went to museum dedicated to the shroud and saw the only full size replica in the world, which was the best we could do. Unless you’ve done a thesis on the shroud, don’t try to find the museum, I think I aged about 5 years walking around in the Italian sunshine trying to find it.

We stayed just one night in Barcelona and then headed to Andorra. Unlike my trip a couple of years ago, we had to go in on the French side rather than the Spanish side, and the scenery was breathtaking. By coming in the French side (through L’Hospitalet) you go through the ski resorts, which means you’re a lot higher up than when you come in through Spain. The only downside is a drop in temperature (30°c in Barcelona compared to 0°c at the highest point. spot the Irishmen in t-shirts and shorts!)

We stayed I Andorra la Velle, which is pretty much the main place in Andorra. Coincidentally, we stayed in the same hotel (hostel del sol) and also the same room, as I stayed in two years ago. Andorra is a strange, but nice place. Everything is duty free, so there are tons of shops selling jewellery, clothes and electrical goods. There are cranes and building works everywhere that neither Damien nor myself could work out what for. The main streets have a very cosmopolitan feel to them, but if you lift your head you se beautiful mountains all around you. It’s certainly a weird contrast. We took it nice and easy in Andorra (again). We got in late the first night (Thursday) so we didn’t do anything. On the Friday we went to a leisure centre/watermark called Caldea (26 for 3 hours), which was so relaxing- Jacuzzis, swimming pools, roman baths, steam rooms saunas. It’s a lovely feeling to be lying in a swimming pool, looking up and realising you’re in a valley in the mountains of the Pyrenees. It doesn’t get much better (well I suppose I could have had a pint of Franziskaner or Bernard in my hand)

Speaking of drink, you may have noticed that we haven’t done much beering in the last week. For a start we needed a break after Munich, plus the quality and price in Italy, Spain and France would be factors to hold us back. Once we get back into Germany we will start up again.

From Andorra, we went to Toulouse for a few hours (raining, wasn’t happy) and then took a night train to Paris, a horribly uncomfortable journey, where we are now.

Paris. Rain sodded Paris.

I was here exactly seven years ago and the heat was sweltering. Not this time. P**sing down. Still, we have some sightseeing to do. Today we went to the Louvre, to see the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo, both of which left us unimpressed. Neither can compare to David in my opinion. Actually if the two weren’t so famous I think id pass on by them without even noticing. You won’t do that in Florence, visiting, big Dave. Tomorrow we (hopefully) will see the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, Stad de France, and have a drink on the Champs Elysses before getting a night train to Zurich (all because of a pencil, more of that later!)  

Liechtenstein, Prague (again) and Warsaw
Monday 19th July

I defy anyone to tell me that travelling around Europe for two months is easy. Before we left the general reaction from people upon hearing what we were doing was "Oh, well for ya, swanning around Europe all Summer while I'm slaving back home". Boll**ks to that. The real hardship is travelling, trying to get to train stations, getting kicked out of seats because you don't have a reservation, standing in queues in tourist offices only to be told that, when you finally get to the head of the queue (despite old grannies just "wandering" in front of you) "no Ingleesh, go vindow tventee" , and that stressful, sweaty and painful process must start over again. The "easy" thing to do would be stay at home, stay in my job and leave my brain on the kitchen table before doing 8 hours of monkey-work.

This sounds like I'm bitching, but I'm not. I've made this decision to leave, not anyone else, so I have to stand behind it. This trip so far has been the experience of a lifetime, I'm certainly not denying that, but it can be really tough at times. Like this past week in fact.

Last time I wrote, it was Sunday the 11th July, and we were in Paris. We had one day of sightseeing to do, before heading to Liectenstein (you might ask why do you want to go to Liectenstein? Well there are a few reasons (1) Our mate Mark [who started off the trip in Prague with us] has a strange collection - pencils. Anytime a member of his family goes anywhere they bring him back a pencil, and seeing as it's unlikely that Mark would ever get one from there, we thought we'd help him out (2) We wanted to add Liectenstein to the list of places we've been (3) It was kind of convenient as regards the direction we were going, back to Eastern Europe)

We didn't get much sightseeing done in Paris that day. We had an arduous trip to the Stade de France (my fault admittedly) where we had to take a our in French because they don't just let you in to see the stadium. The plan was to see the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame and have a drink on the Champs-Elysses but the weather was too sh*tty for any more sightseeing, so we went to the pub called Paddy Wacks just outside the stadium, where we spent the evening. Nice bar actually, staff were very friendly (pity about the "Irish Gold", see beer section) The obligation to "do" and "see" things while on holiday is immense, but I think over those few pints I realised that that's not necessarily what a holiday is about, and consequently ,was quite happy to chat to a Cork barman and an English barman instead of going to the Eiffel Tower (especially since I've been to Paris before).

That night we got a train from Paris to Zurich. Thinking there wouldn't be many on it, we decided to chance our arm and take a couple of beds. This led to our first encounter with the Japanese. Within 10 minutes a conductor came looking for our reservation ("reservation" being something of a foreign concept, pardon the pun, to Damien and I) which of course we didn't have, so he kicked us out, to let some Japanese people in who DID reserve the beds. This incident annoyed me, for one reason - the Japanese were so polite (too polite for me!) even though they must have known we were blagging. I know if the roles had been reversed, I'd have been very pissed off (as in "Get the fuck out of my bed") or smug/smarmy (as in "bye bye", said sarcastically). I suppose this is what was bugging me; by them being so polite it made me out to be an ass*ole (in my head at least). We had another run in with Japanese in Munich, on the way to Prague, but we feel we were right in that instance, so I won't bother going into it; let's just say they caused us to go to Dresden rather than Prague.

Anyway, Paris to Zurich, another horrible, uncomfortable sleep. Train to Zurich to Sargans, bus from Sargans to Liectenstein, bus from Liechtenstein to Feldkirch, train from Feldkirch to Innsbruck, train from Innsbruck to Munich, overnight train from Munich to Dresden, train from Dresden to Prague. In the space of 36 hours we were travelling for 23 hours (I think this statistic is what prompted the beginning of this section!)

Liechtenstein (Vaduz) is really a village, a picturesque village, but a village none the less. The highlight for me was being on their international football pitch; the "stadium" is smaller than a lot of league of Ireland grounds but the fact remains that it is an International pitch, and probably the only one I'll ever set foot on. For this reason I preferred it to the Stade de France, which left me a little cold (pitch is a fair distance away from the crowd) I know it's weird but that's the way it is.

At the end of that 36 hour journey we were in Prague, because it was a stop-off before Poland and we needed somewhere cheap for a few days (plus, once we arrived it felt like home!) Not much to report from Prague, except that we got somewhere cheaper and nicer than the last time, and we added a couple of beers to the list. From Prague, on Friday we "enjoyed" a 9 - hour train journey to Warsaw, and tonight, Monday, we leave Warsaw to go to Berlin.

We have been pleasantly surprised by Warsaw, it's a nice city with decent beer, it seems safe enough and it's cheap , importantly (paying 10 euro a night in Strawberry hostel) We've been to a few Irish pubs here, and they all seem grand. One is worthy of a mention though, "Morgan's Irish Pub" is by far the best. We went in last night and had a good chat with the owner, who offered to do us up a fry, and throw us out another pint even though he was closing up. We came back for the fry this morning, served by a gorgeous barmaid who Damien wants to marry. Damien also reckons the Guinness was very good, which leads me to think: Irish breakfast, couple of pints of Arthur's finest and a tall, blonde, Eastern European barmaid? Doesn't get much better! Maybe we are "swanning" about the place after all!

Berlin to Ireland
Tuesday, 20th July – Tuesday, 27th July 

Well I’m home. And have been now for about a month. Since I’ve been back I’ve fielded a lot of questions about the trip, the most general being “how did you get on?” to which my reply was almost always “Great, but it’s really tough at times”. The last time I wrote for the website I was feeling a little stressed, but had come to the conclusion that maybe I needed to look at what we had been doing, and realise that there was nothing to get stressed about.

That was Monday, the 19th July, and Damien and I were in Warsaw. That night, we were to get a train to Berlin, after visiting a cinema to watch “The Ladykillers”. For the next 24 hours, my fears of being too stressed turned into reality.

Being in Warsaw train station that night, waiting for our train, really depressed me. In the main area, there’s a kind of an eating area, and there were loads of homeless people sitting around. Whatever about people coming up to you and asking you for money, I can cope with that, but when they just sit there, and look pitifully at you, thinking that even if they did ask for money, they’d probably get turned away anyway, well, that just wrecked my head.. I assumed they were going to be there for the night, they were probably there the previous night, and they were probably there the night after that as well. There was me, bitching to Damien about having to take a night train (oh the hardship. Not only were we going to be warm but we actually had reserved beds, the only ones on our whole trip) and these people spend their lives in a train station. Makes you think. When we got to the platform, our train was late. There was a man and a woman sitting on a bench on another platform, the woman was sobbing, and the man was trying to console her. Now I don’t think she was crying out of joy, so I can only presume something had happened. Seeing an adult cry. I don’t know how to describe my feelings towards that.

Now, someone might accuse me of dragging Warsaw down, when in fact, that is not what I’m saying. You see this sort of thing in train stations all across Europe, and Warsaw certainly wasn’t the first place to have beggars asking for money. My mental state at that point was fairly fragile and I suppose my emotions were closer to the surface that they normally are. In fact, you, dear reader are lucky I’m writing this a month later because I would really have saddened you had I wrote at the time! 

Anyway, our train came eventually. We shared a carriage with a couple, the guy leaving his light on all night which I admit, didn’t notice, nor would it have bothered me, but it drove Damien mad. It’s very hard to get any sleep on a train, even in a bed. Twice in the space of half an hour at about six in the morning we were asked for our passports, and then when we finally got into Berlin (a station nowhere near the centre) we were barked off the train by the bastard who interrupted us earlier. But at least we were there, and after another train to Zoo Station, we felt we had a good day ahead of us. Then everything went wrong. Nothing major or anything, just little things, constantly for the whole day.

1. We needed somewhere to stay, and went  to a big hostel near Zoo Station. Having agreed with the guy at the desk for 30 euros a night, he then told us it was 30 euros a night EACH. Bye bye.

2. We rang a hotel from the station, and we agreed a 38 euro room for the night (19 each). We had to try to figure out how to get there, so we took a couple of U-Bahns and then we realised the hotel was within walking distance from Zoo Station (which we could still see)

3. Went to the hotel, woman who I had spoke to on the phone then told me the room was 48 euro, and that I must have misheard. Not very happy about it, we took the room anyway. Door was very difficult to get open. There was no remote for turning on the tv and the buttons had been taken out of the tv. Going back to the unfriendly woman at the desk she informed me that there was a 10 euro deposit on the remote. Of course that would have been too much to tell me when we checked in. I only had a fiver on me, but luckily she said that would be okay. I say luckily, but understand that I mean luckily for her.

4. Had a shower, the hot water ran out half way through it.

5. Went to an Irish bar “Kilkenny”, not really bitching about it, but both Damien and I had omelettes (recommended by the barman) and there were tons of kidney beans in them. Neither Damien nor I like kidney beans that much.

6. We decided to go to the Olympic Stadium, only to find out, when we got there, that we couldn’t actually get in to see it as there was building work going on. We had to go to the top of a tower to get a look into the stadium, and it looked very impressive, from the little bit we saw. That just made it worse.

7. From the tower we could see loads of football pitches around, and having bought a football that day, we thought a kick around might cheer us up. Couldn’t get into any of the pitches.

8. There is a big park in Berlin and we decided to go there for a game. We couldn’t follow the map to find the soccer area (there was no “you are here”) and ended up walking through an area of naked German men sunbathing. Either that or they were waiting for an orgy to kick off.

9. We found an area where we could kick the ball around for a while. My runners were in bits after all the walking, and the football was too hard. Damien also nearly broke his toe.

10. Got an S-Bahn back to where we were staying, thought I was going to faint on the train. Needed some water so we went into a supermarket, where the sweat literally pored out of me. Finally got back to the hotel, felt sick.

11. Had another shower, water went cold again half way through.

12. At this stage I was feeling like I was close to a nervous breakdown. One night in Berlin and I couldn’t mentally get out of the front door of the hotel.

13. Then a thunderstorm started outside.

The next morning we got out of Berlin as soon as possible. We weren’t actually sure where we wanted to go, so a quick look at the train timetable told us the next train was going to Hamburg, and that did for us. I was quite happy with that, as I’m a big Beatles fan, and they had played there before they became famous (when I got there I couldn’t find anything to indicate that The Beatles were ever there). To save on accommodation that night we decided to take a night train to Cologne (when I say night train, I mean at 4.40 a.m.) and off we set on our day in Hamburg which involved drinking as many different beers as we could find. We popped into a couple of Irish bars in Hamburg, Thomas Read’s on the Reeperbahn and some other one just off the Reeperbahn that wasn’t very Irish but was decent enough. The Reeperbahn is basically the Red Light District in Hamburg and it’s fairly scummy, although apparently, it’s better these days than it used to be. There are an unbelievable amount of prostitutes on the street, and actually one tried to rob me, but after my experience in Prague I was a little more street wise and copped as to what she was trying.
So at 3 a.m. we were on the train platform, waiting for our train which wasn’t due for another hour and a half. At this point I sobered up considerably, and thought to myself “what the hell am I doing on a train platform in Hamburg in the middle of the night? What’s the point of all this?” I admit that since we’ve come back, Damien and I have laughed about that point of the trip, but at the time, I wanted out. I’d had enough and from that moment on, there was only one goal in my eyes, and that was getting home.

I woke up the next morning, sleeping bag around me, face firmly leaning against a window, and surrounded by Germans going to work. We were still on the train to Cologne. Someone sat beside me and said something to me, but I couldn’t work out whether it was in English or German, but at that point I had already decided that I wasn’t going to answer him, just smile and nod. Amazingly the nod didn’t hurt, so no hangover, but I was wrecked tired. I wasn’t too bad I suppose, but Damien had some German woman talking to him about our trip and Ireland and so on. Germans are very polite people, and quite friendly but I’m sure Damien didn’t appreciate this bout of chattiness.

Got into Cologne, got a hotel as quickly as we could and slept for the rest of the day. Stayed there for the next four days, because we were fed up of moving around so much and we really liked the place – we found a couple of Irish bars (Flanagans and The Corkonian) and both places were very friendly so we were happy to stay, especially since the Corkonian was showing the hurling quarter finals on the Sunday. I’d like to say we did a lot of stuff there, but we didn’t really, just chilled out.

From Cologne we went to Amsterdam, and that evening Damien got a call to say his uncle had died. We had planned to come back a week later anyway, so we really only lost a week of the trip. We booked flights home from Charleroi for Wednesday the 28th. I’m glad we didn’t stay in Amsterdam, I didn’t feel as relaxed there as I had in Cologne, plus if we had stayed there any longer we would have spent a fortune, it’s a fairly expensive place.

So that’s it. Trip over. We did our hundred beers and more. We estimate we had about 250 pints in the 7 weeks we were away, and as I’ve been typing away this morning, describing the shitty way I felt at times, I have to conclude that all the alcohol probably contributed to my mental state. I wouldn’t trade it though, for every bad day there was 10 great days and at the end of it all, that’s what I’ll remember the most.

The best and the worst ……

Best Pub:

Our local in Prague, (not sure about the name) only place to serve “Bernard”, plus when we sat outside we got a view of Pizzeria Einstein and the gorgeous waitress there. Also, in the toilets there is a poster of Sam Fox from 1986.”Morgans” in Warsaw runs it close, but we were only in that pub twice so it just loses out.

Best Beer:

Franziskaner Weissbier beats Bernard (just). One of the reasons we went back to Prague was to reappraise Bernard after drinking so many good German beers, and we found it wasn’t as good as the Franziskaner.

Best Looking Women (nationality):

Could have a heated debate about this subject but we have decided to go for the Italians, although the Czechs and the Polish get honourable mentions.

Best Looking Barmaid:

Blonde Polish barmaid in “Morgan’s” in Warsaw, although the previous day we thought we had seen the best looking barmaid in “The Cork Bar”, also in Warsaw, but she loses points based on the fact she wasn’t as friendly as the blonde girl.

Best City:

Although Florence was the nicest looking city, Munich was probably our favourite out of everywhere. This was due to the beer. Munich will be done again, with a group of lads, on an educational field trip.

Best Stadium:

Liechtenstein’s International stadium, only because we got to go onto the pitch (it wasn’t difficult!)

Best Country:

Germany. Hands down. It’s got the friendliest people, best beer, the best public transport system, it’s cheaper than Ireland (although still expensive compared to other countries) and the women are pretty tasty also!

Best Scenery:

From L’Hospitalet to Andorra. Stunning.

Best American:

Michaelangelo in Munich. Cool guy even if he does support AC Milan.

Best Barman:

No point awarded for looks here, so the joint winners are the owner of “Morgan’s” and Darren, in Flanagan’s in Cologne. Both sound blokes.

Best Pizza:

Pizzeria Einstein in Prague. The second time we were there there was no sign of the waitress or Lippy, our mascot for the trip.

Best Night:

Wednesday, first week in Prague. Steve, Mark, Damien, myself and a s**tload of beer. I’m getting nostalgic thinking about it.

Best Football Match:

It’s a toss-up between England vs. Portugal and Damien/myself against Adrian/ Eamon in Munich. Actually, we lost so I suppose I have to go for England vs. Portugal.

Best Beard:

Damien’s “Grizzly Adams” look wins this one hands down!

Best Train Journey:

Although it was a long trip the journey from Prague to Warsaw was the one I enjoyed the most. Listened to “The Freewhellin’ Bob Dylan” constantly while staring at the passing countryside and deciding my first daughter is going to be called Corina.

#######

Worst Beer:

Irish Gold, in Paris. Laughable. Thank God we didn’t pay for it.

Worst City:

Berlin. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it’s a fantastic place but it causing me to nearly have a nervous breakdown qualifies it to win this category.

Worst Pizza:

We had a couple of pizzas in Ventimiglia, Italy. There’s nicer pizza down the back of my couch.

Worst Nationality:

The Japanese!

Worst Barman:

There was a really rude barman in Cologne, can’t remember the name of the bar, but needless to say, he didn’t get a tip.

Worst Stadium:

Stade de France, in Paris. Sterile place.

Worst Train Journey:

We estimated we took about 25 trains, and about 20 of them were horrible. Therefore there are a few joint winners in this section: Paris to Zurich (miserable), Hamburg to Cologne (depressing, felt like a tramp), Munich to Milan (tiresome), Warsaw to Berlin (pick a negative adjective).

Worst Feeling on the whole trip:

Standing on a cold train platform in Hamburg, 3 a.m., having been drinking since 3 p.m., and waiting for another hour and a half for a train to Cologne. I felt like crying. (Honourable mention: realising I was pickpocketed on my first night abroad)

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