When in Rome

Uh, Ron, that saying doesn't really apply here. Well, actually it kinda does. Rome. A lifetime would not be enough! But i will attempt to convey the sheer amazement which every single day brought on my Roman Holiday...not the film fool, my actual holiday!!

Day 1 in Rome...post sweaty arrival at Termini and an even sweatier bus ride to some obscure monument (which was to be a point of reference in finding one of the most elusive hostels in history), engtalian directions to said elusive hostel and finally arrival at hostel it was time to sight see. And see the sights we did. **Refer to previous post for wicked explanation of former death centre/amusement park.

Next came the Monumento Vittorio Emanuele II, a grandiose white marble beast, honouring the first king of a united Italy, which was dazzling when lit by the late afternoon sunshine.

Such a sight could only be topped by something delicious to put into my grumbling belly and it was henceforth we decided to venture to the Trevi Fountain in search of Gelato. And wow! I would give my left pinky to go back now. I mean...the left pinky is really kind of useless, no? Argh...i digress. Winding through narrow cobble stoned lanes, dodging scooters, shiny cars ( which i swear must have been enchanted; for their ability to be in such tiny lanes defied all logic...bus in Harry Potter 3 anyone??) and imigrants selling 'genuine' Dolce and Gabana (hello?) handbags, strategically laid out on blankets which could easily be swept up as the sellers flee from the Carabinieri, we found the place were wishes are made and our Gelato wishes were granted. The Romans have an uncanny ability to illumiate fountains in a way which gives a 5star hotel pool advertisement hue to the water and a most ominous presence to the crowning sculptural decoration. Sitting in a post-gelato sugar coma and throwing pennies over our shoulders into the blue abyss (the first to ensure your return to Rome, the second for a personal wish) i was horrified but simultaneously amazed at a roaming gypsy's ingenuity. Along comes beardy with an extendable rod with a magnet at the end picking out pennies from the fountain!!! I was so amazed by his device i failed to realise he was taking my wishes!! Never fear...the 2nd time i threw in so far he would require a life vest to go fishing for them!!! In your face gypolata!!

In an vain effort to walk off the gelato we climbed an excessively steep hill to watch the sunset over Piazza del Popolo, in the centre of which sits an Obelix pilfered from Egypt thousands of years ago!! At this point ´the lunch time pasta high had wavered and it was nearing the time to wind the backstreets of Rome back to our nun fortress of a hostel to prepare for the coming day of bliss!



Having explored a munite corner of the east bank of the Tevere, the following day was devoted to visiting the most religiously concentrated quarter in existence. The Vatican city.

An independent state with its own currency and police force. Brimming with devout Catholic pilgrims, religiously apathetic youngsters and vestment clad priests, this is an unmissable experience. The queues, the security, the strict dress code; when one finally enters the heart quickens at the opulence. Every corner of the Basilica San Pietro (burial site of one of Jesus# 12 apostles; Peter) is dripping in gold and religous art. History's popes are entombed within and for those Dan Brown fans out there, the altar which Ewan McGregor once stands beside in Angels and Demons, a four pillared obscure looking thing (baldacchino), is one piece of Bronze and was made, in part, by Michelangelo himself. TRIVIA!!! From the basilica a 3km queue around the walls of the Vatican city lead us to the Sistine Chapel and adjoining museum, where centuries of obscenely lavish treasures were gathered and stored by consecutive popes. An entire menagerie of carved marble animals in the first room is merely the beginning of a most fascinating and simultaneously frightful journey through the overt riches of the Catholic church. Beware of this journey though, as all individuality is sucked form you and the crowd moves as one. A bleating, photo taking herd being shepherded through kilometres of corridors, where every square inch of wall and ceiling is masterfully adorned by works of Michelangelo and his artistic counterparts of the day, including hundreds of square metres of Raphael's tapestries. It is a strange feeling when one finally descends the narrow stone steps into the silent hall of the Sistine Chapel, (the site of Papal Conclaves although more reknowned for being the home of Michelangelo's work 'Creation', whereby God's hand is giving Adam life). I could have spent days gazing, jaw dropped at the wonder which covered every space of ceiling and wall in the Chapel. I won't try and be witty here as it would be too disrespectful to the years of mastery which went into creating such a space.

On the eve of my planned departure it was time to let our hair down. Wine is cheaper than water and restaurants serve pasta well after midnight so we were set for a blast! The night saw us in the tre cosy Campo dei Fiori eating pasta and interrogating locals as to the reason behind uneven coupling ( whereby a fairly attractive male is seen with a ghastly female mate) and the rates of adultery. Results: Italian men will almost definately stray and only date ugly girls as prety girls won't mother them as well. Love it! But never fear, not all males in Italy are twats. The tourists are ok!

Here is the fun part...I had everything booked for Prague and was to fly out of Rome the following day. Didn't happen. Unable to tear myself away from what Rome had to offer i never got on the flight. I never saw the castles or the cheap beer, instead i romed hahah roamed the Pantheon and the Piazza Venezia, unable to remove the giant smile plastered fast to my pink face. I wandered the Roman Forum and tiny backstreets, so pleased with myself and utterly titillated at the thought of the extraordinary people i had met and sights i had seen.

The sky was a most vivid blue, the crumbling ruins blindingly white, the parks painfully green, life was marvellous!! The only thing that dragged me from my fantastical world of wine, british accents and history was the thought of meeting my family for the first time in Poland. Now i know why i m the way i am...

Oh Mein Gott!

Wow! I know not where to start so the beginning is a good place.

The 8hr train trip to Venice on which i witnessed an intercultural slaying match over a seat was the prelude to Italian hospitality! I arrived in Venice, the city of dreams, alone, slightly terrified and sweating like an animal in the sweltering 28deg heat!! I boarded the vapporetto and sailed away into the late afternoon air towards my hostel. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry! I was doing it. I was there! All by myself, seeing things i had always wanted to see and feeling the cold air whip through my hair as we sailed along the Canal Grande, houses leaning slightly, aged and damp; front doors leading to open water, boats following no apparent set of rules but, somehow, avoiding collisions, i gripped the barrier on the boat for fear that i was about to float away on the weightlessness of my own emotions!!

Arriving in the hostel saw me man up and approach a girl who was also travelling alone and through whom i met such a super fantastic girl it makes me sad that i won't be there to tour the rest of Europe with her!! Enough of my sop! After a day of exploring Venice both by boat and on foot, through tiny dark alleyways where old men sat on lone chairs pondering life's existence, it was time for dinner and wine! There is no way i could possibly explain the intensity of all the flavours! They put salt in their food!! You remember that white stuff that they used to put in food in Australia when you were 2? It was around the same time that Maggi noodles still had a taste...the tomatoes are not floury but sweet and slightly sour. The olives glistening and still bearing a pit! Washed down with some marvellous local white wine my gastronomique journey was set to continue with a canal side picnic of wine, cheeses, chocolate and late night cards. Oh i am pining over the memory already! The next day saw me convince Amelie that a day in Verona with me is worth far more than a day alone in Venice...wow wow wow wow! Verona. Where do i start?

With a terrifying bus ticket buying adventure whereby the lady stared blankly at my request to get to the obscure little township of Pedemonte, followed by a 25 min wait alone in the street, during which i considered strapping my documents and cash to my abdomen for fear of a gang of gypsies cursing me and my bag exploding for not giving them any 'spare' change...what a word..spare...as if...i'm travelling...all my fears were unnecessary as i arrived at my bed minus breakfast (in Italy coffee=breakfast) which was so luxurious and so cheap i was convinced something bad was going to happen, settled in for a recharge night excited about my day ahead exploring the famed city of feuds and romance with Amelie. Verona was the gift that never stopped giving. I got into Flight Centre travel agent mode and planned a fantastic circular route around town visiting every sight the town had to offer a well endowed (map bearing) tourist! We started at Juliet's tomb. After swooping through the museum dedicated to the queen of hearts we descended into the bowels of the earth to explore the deathbed of literature's most famed couple. Love messages were scrawled into the rock, depictions of flames long gone and perhaps enduring...a truly girly awwwww moment! From there we followed the old town walls which are approximately 2000yrs old and in which the Veronese have established cafes, restaurants and offices, into the town centre. Piazza Bra was a feast for the senses. With Verona being the most Roman city in Italy after Rome itself it is not surpirising that a spectacular arena, which is still in use for opera season and holds 20, 000, greeted our smiling faces! From here we headed north to Juliet's house to leave our own messages of love upon its graffitied corridors. Decades worth of love notes pinned to the wall. Layers upon layers of permanent marker scrawled dedications in every language, barely a square inch of blank wall remained! After rubbing Juliet's right breast in the hope of good love it was time to explore the remaining ruins of the Roman gate to the city Porta Leona. A surreal remnant of an ancient time beneath the city, bordered a few metres above by cafes and souvenirs! In a truly educational experience we ventured through to
the Scaligeri palaces, built by one of the feuding families upon which the bard based his magnificent tale, now the location of the Veronese parliament. From here we crossed the river to get a better view of the Ponte San Pietra bridge, historically laden as it was bombed several times. The last time it was destroyed every rock was taken from the bottom of Fuime Adige and it was rebuilt as per the original! Crossing the bridge and climbing miles of stairs between ivy covered houses we discovered an amazing view of the historic town! Our journey south took us through Castelvecchio, a medieval castle built purely as an exercise of opulence by the Scaligero! A quick meal of cheap pasta and white wine finished the day and from there Bologna awaited!

This will be a quick one. Bologna was a downright disappointment! From the amazing experience offered by Verona i arrived to the greyish red concrete jungle that is the university town of Bologna. After discovering the 'charming' bed and breakfast was merely someone's house with a spare room and too much pot pourri housed in a faceless, nameless grey shroud of cement my day just delcined! Everyone was so angry looking. I ate my Ragu for which i came, yes i planned an entire stopover to try real bolognese sauce. And that was it. I sat alone, literally alone, in the restaurant. The food and service were amazing and the sweet wine dirt cheap but heading home in the dark for the first time in my life i was scared. I hurried back through graffiti poisoned streets where gruff looking guys passed me without even a glance...well maybe a glare but that was all. Dark alcoves were unavoidable and i skipped in front of cars simply to get into bed all the faster! The next morning i left Bologna. A ransacked handbag was sprawled at the door.

My disappointment was overshadowed entirely and my every expectation was blown completely out of the water when i got to Rome and back to my old pal! Waiting map in hand, Amelie greeted me with a smile and it was off to the Colloseum! The real deal! 50, 000 spectator capacity, crumbling facade and a 500m queue! Oh mein gott! Nothing could have ever prepared me for such a sight. We entered the arena, the sun glinting softly through the archways. I couldn't move. The sight of the ruined cells and corridors which once housed prisoners beneath the floor of the stadium, waiting to die a most gruesome death. The deathly steep seating, the marble steps worn out in the middle from millenia of stamping feet. I could feel the years of life pressing in on me! Or perhaps it was the tight feeling in my bladder from the lack of toilets. Either way, i was finding it hard to believe my eyes. Frome.hahh get it..rome...from here we ventured past the ruins of the Roman Forum, former CBD of the Roman world! and on to visit the many monuments the marvellous city had to offer by twilight!...it is at this point i take a pause..
Oh mein Gott!! i can't write anymore. If you have read this far i applaud you. If not...your deadded from Facebook.

Fill In The Gaps

Austria! the hills were alive and i thought i was dying most of the time! But for the time that i was alive and kicking i kicked it good! Vienna is a city of wonders! i was, however, disappointed when i IMDBed Tobias Moretti and found out he lives in Munchen and not Vienna...but Komissar Rex disappointment aside i discovered the city in which i want to live! For the first time since leaving home i felt like i was at home! I walked the streets and could imagine myself carrying fresh rolls and cheese up four flights of stairs for breakfast before embarking on a leisurely stroll through the Schwarzwald forest which circles the city...wait that WAS my life for a week or so!! It was crazy! I spent the afternoons battling men dressed as classical composers trying to sell tickets to Mozart concerts while attempting to not let a single drop of my crazy nutty chocolate eis drip on the pavement. Eyes wide, i admired the most amazing architecture, the Sisi and Kaiser apartments, part of the Hofburg palace...yes i said palace, the palace square is also where Hitler first assembled his masses... are in the heart of the city. Crossing the archway from the Kaiser apartments took me to my heaven on earth. The Spanish Riding school! Watching baroque shaped white stallions execute motions one thought only existed in oil paint while listening to Blue Danube in a riding arena built over 300 yrs ago and which was built to accommodate the entertainment needs of the Hapsburg royal empire my heart almost burst! It also happened to house a human bird flying attempt some 100 yrs ago. accounts beyond the gentleman's ascent are hazy! We toured the stables and my chin started to hurt for it was dragging on the floor my mouth was open so long! The stable the stables...the cleanliness...the tack...pieces worth up to $500,000 exhibited as if in a museum. You get the point...i loved it! The come down post Lipizzaner land was tough. But i managed. A ride on the Viennese version of Melbourne's-fantastic-wheel-thing-which-is-so-insignificant-i-can't-even-remember-its-name-in-Docklands. The view was spectacular! A visit to the local castle...yeah just the local one not one of the hundreds sprinkled like chocolate shavings over the flourless chocolate cake that is Austria, was in order. Schloss Schonbrunn, with its meagre 300yrs of history and sprawling lawns was amazing! Literally. My first maze ever. Was so unbelievable! I could just imagine the inbred royal society sprinting madly through the 2m tall hedge labyrinth skirts in hand after so naughtily pinching that handsome cousins rear end screeching....Oh! One will never find me!!! Every corner of the castle and its plot were dripping in opulence. Flowerbeds manicured better than Janice Dickinson's Eyebrows, a Zoological Garten, servants quarters and stables, enclosed within a wall of pale yellow stone all decorated tastefully with gold and all in the city! After a day of exploring such wonders, however, my guts began begging for food! And feed them i did. My first rib experience. I was served off a surfboard sized board and am convinced i ate an entire pig's worth. Along with about a dozen potatoes and the best garlic sauce my polish tastebuds have ever encountered! Washed down with beer i was so satiated that had i died at that moment i would have been smiling. its sick what food does to me. the garlic sauce did come back to haunt me later, though, the audience at the opera did not appreciate the ribs as much as i had!
My Austrian adventures end here as i boarded the train the following morning and headed for what was to be the best adventure of my meagre life! Italia!!!

Auf Wiedersehn for now

Next Please!

Post München landscape was awe inspiring.
It is the kind of area one expects to find two small children left in the woods destroying and eating a poor old lady's porch. Or a burly axe weilding man, crying on a rock after sending a young beautiful girl into the woods instead of murdering her as his orders had been. Yes woods. Real woods with dark green canopy's shielding a damp mossy floor. Wild mushrooms under century old trees. And mountains. Lots and lots of mountains. Snow peaked mountains. Glacier water lakes that looked like a smurf had had a bath...

Our come down from the seizing fit that was Oktoberfest consisted of immersing ourselves into mother nature's wide and comfortable bosom. Welcome to Berchtesgaden. We stayed in a little old bed and breakfast nestled between snow capped mountains, with flower boxes beneath every window, a waterfall beside it and run by a charming old lady with a moustache. A short stroll down steep and winding roads lead us into town where the streets were lined with cafes and restaurants all oozing charm and wafting alluring scents of plums, cream and stewing meat. A hike came first, however, and once the fog had lifted from the lake, a little electric boat transported us into a world unbeknownst to my imagination. Walking can be tiring at such times and no one seems to appreciate this more than the Europeans, hence, gratiously, they had converted an old farmhouse into an Alm on the far side of the lake. The Alm is a feat of human ingenuity. First there were the lush green pastures, then the bright ginger cows, then comes the dairy goodness. I had certainly walked up an appetite...heck even if i hadn't that wouldn't have stopped me from throwing myself face first into the barrels of fresh cheese and bread. Oh mein Gott! I smacked my lips together as i sucked down a fresh krug (handled glass) of butter milk, could hardly breathe as i scoffed on dark rye bread with smoked meat and fresh, soft, white cheese then, when i thought it had ended, what should be thrust into my hand but the traditional stampl of post meal schnapps. Not just any schnapps. Obstler. Clear. Herby and oh so burny! But if it's good enough for the locals it will do for me!! Getting a little drunk somewher one requires their footing is, however, not such a genius plan. It did make the trip home seem slightly shorter and the slippery sheer cliff face rock paths a little less intimidating. Now, after such a trip one can only imagine how hungry we were so a slice of wasp coverd (everything is always surrounded by wasps when it is warm which is something i still struggle with) plum küchen was in order. Time to go shower and prepare for dinner, with a pause to frolic in the fields Julie Andrews being tasered style. Dinner at another warmly lit, meat smelling, culturally infused gasthaus. Venison gulash with spaetzle and wheat beer. Wow!...sorry i need to stop writing here a i have just eaten a pebble of brown grey cheese which tasted like fresh cow poo. radnerkäse. Thanks Alex.

Hmm hmm. Dinner was followed, in the traditional manner once again, with more schnapps, this time far more palatabe pear and apricot but just as burny and powerful. I later found myself drinking from the troughs of mountain water located around town. Not sure if this is something the locals take a shine to or not.
The next morning found us cable-car ing it up to the summit of Jenna where a short but difficult trek took us to the very peak. With the thin air slightly rasping through my lungs and the flocks of europeans and their special walking sticks, termed nordic walking...looks very dicky to me! zing! we finally found our panorama! Could see all the way to the Alps. Felt insignificant.

It is at this point that my disease prone lungs decided they had had enough and a bronchial infection took hold!! Woo! I was taken to a small town in Bürgenland, Austria to recover, where Alan Rickmann's doppleganger made me better. I did, despite my being mostly housebound, experience a true small-town festival in celebration of the ancient art of corn kernel air drying. It was just an excuse to drink white wine spritzers, as this is wine country, and eat more. And eat i did! I thought it would take away my disease. Crepe style pancakes with chocolate nut cream and fruit, rich red gulash and soft bread, and far too many wine spritzers which when combined with german paracetamol (which is twice as strong as the stuff back home but of which fact i was unaware until the effects had worn off) left a bizzare stocking-over-the-lense type sleepy haze in place of normal thought function. I lost a week sleeping and attempting to ooze all the phlegm from my body but have recovered and am currently in Austria where i have been searching for Rex and dining with the Von Trapps.

But the opera is calling my name so i shall reconvene at a later date...which might be much later as i am not sure how Italy is with internet....whether that technology has spread there yet i am unsure...

Photos

Just some as they take a million yrs to upload

Seoul by night. This is just a quiet little alley behind our hotel

Xanten's guard tower.

The Dom cathedral in Köln. I love this city!

I struggled to finish this. Sour cherry strudel.

But it's a giant brezen!

And a giant Maß.
An Australian guy was arrested and is now sitting in prison awaiting trial for throwing one of these at someone.

The fresh fish in a roll stall

This place is 400yrs old. The food was not. But it was awesome. i didn't even get a photo of it as it was gone before i could think to do it

Shit...I've done it again!

Ok, so i shall pick up where i left off...

Upon arrival to the country famed for the BMW, beer and invading Poland **according to lonely planet....i would have thought bratwurst, lederhosen and punctuality really...i enjoyed a superfast train from Frankfurt to Bochum in the North ( where no one shops in op shops but are still wearing their electric blue shoulder padded blouses). My first experiences of this nation are bizarre. There is no rubbish on the streets. Anywhere. You need to pay to use a public toilet. And people take their dogs everywhere. Well, not everywhere, one butcher has put a kaibosh on it but you are still allowed to take your dog up an 1800m mountain via chairlift. (have to buy them a ticket or hundekarte ofcourse!!) The supermarkets are one of my favourite things so far. Desserts cost under a euro and half of the store is normally taken up by disgustingly cheap alcohol. Yes, my father did buy a one euro bottle of red when he was here but insists it was a decent drop. My top finds so far; 2 toothbrushes for 69cents and a pair of amazing grey and pink leggings for 50cents. High five!!

Post enjoying small city life i ventured south west through fields of little flowers and train stations which resembled the miniature ones you find in expensive toy stores where the ladies wear reading glasses on gold chains around their necks and give you the look of death if your child reaches for a toy, towards the border of the Netherlands to meet my sister's ass band's not-a-word-of-english speaking parents. I found out that i don't need to talk. I can just eat. A slice of pflaumen kuche was placed in front of me, a jar of cream, a coffee, a cream cake...i was set for anti-dicsussion mode for the better part of the afternoon. After ingesting as much cake as my amazing expanding belly can hold...which is a lot, really,..we waddled down to explore the little town of Xanten. I was dumbfounded, well...so to speak! If i could speak German i would have been exploding with all forms of typical tourist tyrade! But i didn't need to. I stood. mouth gaping up at the entrance to the old town beneath a castle wall gate where centuries ago short fat german guards would hae been standing sentry to warn the fair maiden and the priest of any oncoming danger...Hide the cheese!!! This slap in the face of people going about daily life amongst such relics was sobering. The sugar wore off and i found myself screaming in my head...`You are serving fries and bratwurst like its 1999 but your kitchen is over 500 yrs old and made of stone!!!`Must be time for more cake...

From Xanten, Germany could only get prettier. But before i launch into how spectacular European country side is i must first divert to the embarrassment that was Oktoberfest...

Arriving in München saw me haul my life-containing backpack up 4 flights of stairs to the pension before having a wander around the old town. Wow! Every twist and turn through cobblstoned lanes lead to a new visual delight. My senses were in overdrive. The marktplatz was buzzing with about 20 different sausage stands, more fruit, dairy and florist stands than i could ever imagine and hundreds of people wearing lederhosen and drinking beer in the square. And this was on an average Saturday! The hours of wandering around smelling amazing aromas but not daring to try my german to ask for some, left me starved and parched. Along comes my host and very dear friend Alex to save the day. This is where my demise into the pits of gastronomical hell starts. Craving some traditional German grub, we sat and downed some spätzle, sauerkraut, veal and, of course, a giant beer. Now it was time to drink proper! So we take the really very overly long way to Theresienvise where the Oktoberfest is held. Now, no words that i put here can ever truly explain what i encountered but i will give it a fair shot.

I was spewed out of the underground station into a world so fantastical; positively buzzing and completely overwhelming. People were streaming past. Hundreds of thousand of people as far as the eye could see. Most dressed in traditional lederhosen or dirndl and those who were't were either stripping off or Australian. I, however, left the traditional oceania pacific uniform of board shorts, thongs and a t shirt which screamed Auslander, at home. I couldn't move. I didn't know where to look. It was a beer festival city! Rows upon rows of stalls selling every kind of delicacy you could imagine paved the way between the tents. And when i say tents i mean hangars. They are filled by 9am with hundreds of those eager to reserve their place for the evening's shenanigans but are not willing to encounter disappointment when 3000 more people squash their way in to pour beer down eachother's fronts whilst trying to see up that girl's dirndl at 7pm. But back to the stalls for a moment. There were stalls selling thousands of traditional gingerbread hearts decorated with such heartfelt messages as 'hearty love' and 'Oktoberfest wishes fun' which all the lovely ladies wear around their neck. The one hanging from my oversized neck was inscribed with a message about being someone's forever...i bought it myself in the hope that every other girl who passed me would read it and sigh....awwwww he looooves her. Didn't happen. i should have known people are drunk, they don't read them, they just make a perfect excuse to stare at healthy european girls' chests while looking innocently at a cookie!
Other food stalls sell food only europeans could claim to be festival food. Where back home one pays $8 for a bottle of water and a sweet bun of cottonwool stuffed with something that looks like a pink stick and dubbed a hotdog at festivals, in Germany one can eat fresh fish sandwiches made in those rolls you see on Inspector Rex, drink Schnapps in public, gorge on chocolate covered fruit, yes fruit, inhale every type of sausage you could dream up, and eat fresh pastries. Not even at festival prices. I love this place. After 4 failed attempts to get into the beer tents we decided we had the rest if the weekend to explore Oktoberfest so decided to head back into town an drink at another watering hole. We drank beer out of glasses that gave me a bruise for being so heavy and i realised i had paid about 4 euro in toilet fees for all the peeing i was doing. We had broken hand/english/german/italian conversations with fellow travellers before hitting a super fantastiche german night club for some super fantastiche german pop musik!

I need to pee now so i will finish this at a later date...hold this thought....ok back from pee

Day 2 saw us far more prepared as we headed to the beer drinking paradise that is at a riduculous hour...let's just say we had been out dancing until a few hours prior. We coulnd't get into the most popular tent as that was already full...perhaps some smarter than we had never returned home. We eventually did make it into a tent and didn't move unless we were standing to sing Ein Prost, for a good 8hrs at which point we were told that our paticular table had been reserved for the afternoon and we had to move. It was imposible to find anywhere else to sit inside the tent. Every table was filled with old women eating ribs sitting shoulder to shoulder with their ancients lederhosen wearing husband's who were busy looking up the kiwi girl who flashed to much's skirt; obscene australian cross dressers and 8yr old kids asleep out of sheer boredom of sitting still for that long. The european sun was still shining bright and so we ventured out the biergarten where more maßs were consumed and more pork, kraut, sausages and senf inhaled. After hours of listening to odd eastern european girls prattle on about the über couple comprising of Ukranian girls and German boys and that Hitler was right....(even i didn't mention the war!) i decided to escape the lunacy and head back inside. WRONG MOVE!!! A terrifying sight greetes my weakly adjusting to the light eyes. Once rustic floorboards were now polished with a sea of beer. No table was clear for people were crammed dancing atop them. And then the bout of national guilt. Australians. Clothes and hair dripping with beer. Attempting to skull beer but instead vomiting it back into the glass and then feeling 'awesome cool' and when the maß was empty the floor became a great place for stomach toboganing, what with all the beer and vomit seeming like adequate lubrication! I started telling people i was English.

It was time to go home.

Day 3 at Oktoberfest was, by far, the most enjoyable. After a day of pretending to be cultured at the Deutches Museum (I merely ran around all day pressing all the buttons that made things move noisily enough to wake the dead and played with wooden mind puzzles that i couldn't understand and felt angered by the knowledge that generations of German kinder had acomplished what i couldn't by tesselating the diamons in a certain pattern) i decided to go back and experience the night time family festivities in the Familien Platz. It was like Seoul on steroids. So many flashing lights, kilometres of allyways of rides and a food stall squeezed in every gap! I ate and ate to my porky little heart couldn't handle anymore richness. I even couldn't stomach a 0.5m bratwurst as i was too full!! But i did almost pee myself when i found out that i could get a rollmops from a food stall :) Full, fat and farting a lot it was time to leave the beautiful town of München and explore the south.

It is here i say fare thee well and i hope u have managed to stick with my ridiculous crepp!!!

As Rafiki says about the circle of life...it starts!

Like all Disney adventures mine started with eleven hours wedged between a window and a middle aged snoring korean woman. hmmm

After my years of watching border security i was very disappointed with the lax level of suspicion amongst customs workers both at home and at seoul airport. i was expecting total bag diasassembly, a frisk and maybe some sweaty asian man being spoken to overly loudly by an officer for trying to take more than 100ml of liquid in as hand luggage. i got none of this. i stood waiting nervously in the maze of seatbelt, fearing the more i stessed the more i would sweat and the more sweat means the more condoms of cocaine must be shoved in your a höle. no. not even a second glance. scan the passport. doesnt seem fake. yeh...she´ll b right mate! hmph
and seoul was not much better although it was slightly more intimidating as upon exit of the aircraft we were confronted by a wall of masked korean customs officers armed with thermometers and weird neck scanning beeping things to test for swine flu. to top off my angst, they would not let me pass through as i had left the space on my entrance card which required a korean address blank. not smart. i tried to explain that the airline was taking me to a hotel the location of which had not been disclosed yet. but after what seemed like a millenium he must have decided that my complexion was not one which would endanger his country and stamped my passport with brutal force.

Once arriving at a hotel far beyond any of my expectations, my new australian teacher friend and i exchanged opinions on the philosophical nature of science before sitting down to dinner. i had high hopes for the food in the place. after being laughed at on the plane for chosing korean rice over ´western beef´i wanted to prove my openness to other cultures by embracing their food in front of them. fail. i had cordon blergh ordered only for the promise of accompanying steamed vegetables....a bean, a slice of cooked capsicum and a handful of crinkle cut oven fries does not meet the description. Setting aside our disappointment we decided to try and see what we could of our nuuuu surroundings!! we hopped into a taxi map in hand and requested to be taken to downtown seoul, maybe 10 min away by car. NO! i do NOT go there!!!! oooohh kay. hop out try again. repeat. hmmmm. so we decide to hoof it and just see what is around our hotel. GOLD!!!!!! thats what!!!! tiny alleyways lined with guys trying to flog off faux ed hardy jumpers, women trying to charge $3 a nectarine, seedy sex bars and neon lights!!!!! so many neon lights!!! i didnt know where to look!!!! one sign would command my attention by promising cans of budweiser and fake palm trees while another would direct me down stairs steeper than Henry st´s into a lair of sticks and jazz!!! loved every second of it. everyone is so genuinely polite. so so good!

On departure from seoul i managed to catch another episode of an amazing korean tv drama which was more addictive than even amazing seizure robots could even dare!! the flight was not too bad. once again boxed in between a window and a middle aged korean couple; the one filter coffee i downed at breakfast keeping me wide awake enough to watch 5 movies back to back. 49 hrs after leaving the comfort of my own doona and moncchichi doll i arrived with my turlte squid bag in Bochum in Germany´s north west. It is at this point that i leave you for if you have read this far then doom on you....you could have been doing something productive!!!

photos will komm!!!!