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After working hard for 10 days harvesting grapes, doing some much needed physical activity (other than drinking) and more importantly restocking my spending money, I headed to Dublin for a much needed break. Stoked with the promise of warmer weather and heading back into nightlife and sightseeing – as opposed to sub-zero temperatures and physical labour – I was somewhat shocked when on landing I was greeted with cold dreary drizzle. Little was I to know (well, I WOULD know if I’d actually researched it a bit, but meh) that this would be the norm for the 6 days I was here.

Weather aside though, Dublin was pretty awesome. I was staying with girls I’d met on the Isle of Skye in Scotland, a bunch of yanks studying for a semester in Ireland. While I’d only met 4 on the tour, there were about 14 girls studying in Dublin and living together amongst two houses.  This meant that whenever we went out – often – I would go clubbing with an assload (heh) of girls. Entry into clubs was ridiculously easy, and guys buying the girls drinks would unknowingly be paying for my night out, as most of the drinks were passed directly to me.

I did another free walking tour while I was there, but sadlyDublin doesn’t have too much going for it sightseeing wise. The main attraction for Dublin is the nightlife, and that definitely lived up to its reputation. Best club I went to was a club playing only mashups, with various renowned mashup artists – Girl Talk and Super Mas Bros I think – performing live throughout the week. Shame I have no idea what club that was, things got a bit hazy..
Unfortunately, Dublin also has a reputation for being bloody expensive, and that held true too. 8 Euro for a pint of Guinness kinda hurts the pocket.

Speaking of Guinness though, the Guinness factory is located in Dublin, and I couldn’t miss out on that. Probably the highlight of Dublin for sightseeing, it has a full history of the beer, from production right through to various advertising campaigns – and of course samples!

While Dublin is a nice enough place, it was the people I was with and the friends I made that was best part about it, and I was loathe to leave them all to head to my final travel destination before finishing my journey. Bidding them all farewell, I headed to Seoul for the last 3 days of my trip.

So, back to countryside Germany, Erlenbach again. I’d be spending 10 days working in the hills (literally) cutting grapes to make various sorts of wine. One thing I didn’t quite count on – how miserable the weather would be.

Most days it drizzled. Those it didn’t, it poured, or in the one case snowed – briefly, before turning to sleet. Oh, and the temperature never really got above 10 celcius, the average being 5-6.

Getting up at 6:30 to be out there working by 7:30, knocking off in the afternoon…long, exhausting days. I’d done various wine harvests before, on my family’s vineyard, but this was slightly more intense.

Not only working longer hours, the method was quite different too. Being a large producer of wine, the Kerner family (same guys who made the oil) had much more machinery to speed things up. Tractors galore (loved driving them around, mad fun), massive trailers capable of taking tons of grapes, huge tubs to be mechanically lifted onto trailers instead of the old fashioned way of climbing up a ladder and dumping grapes in – all of it made the experience quite new and exciting.

For example, manhandling 300kg tubs of grapes down a frost covered grass hill with an angle of 35 degrees, trying not to lose control and have it slide away, wreaking havoc through the vineyards. Then, once the tub is emptied, slogging back up that hill dragging it back up to be filled again. Fun times.

We harvested Riesling (white), Trollinger (light red) and Lemberger (stronger red), and all had specific types of rot that could and couldn’t be harvested. A crash course in grape rot later from the boss, with a helpful eye out from coworkers, and havesting went smoothly.

Inbetween working like madmen, we’d be getting fed massive lunches of pretty much meat and bread. Now, not just ham and bread, oh no. I’m talking roasts, snags, chunks of bacon as thick as your hand dripping hot fat, served with crusty farmers bread and fresh butter and cheeses. It was amazing. And out there in the cold, on the hills, you used all that energy, easily.

The people involved in the harvest were great, absolute champions. All been doing it for years, all country folk, really had a blast doing it all. The Kerner family (distant relatives) knew our family well, and there was scarely a day when I didn’t go home without a bottle of wine, some grapes of even a live chicken as a gift.

Yep, a chicken. As my grandparents are old, I got to prepare a live chicken from scratch – that was interesting. Watching a chicken run around like a, well, headless chicken, was quite a sight. Made a damn good soup though.

Speaking of running, that’s another thing I did once I’d knocked off for the day. 1-2 hour runs nightly, up and down the various vineyards, gave me some truly spectacular views of the sun setting through the hills. Unfortunately, once the sun had set the temp quickly dropped below 0 and I’d often come back with frost in my beard. On that note, running in a singlet, 2 tshirts, a jumper and a jacket kinda sucks – and I was still cold!

Also got the chance to meet up with my cousin Stefan and check out an Audi 100 year anniversary car show, which was pretty awesome. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) there wasn’t any big festivities going on like last time I was here, because after Scotland I needed a bit of a detox.

The tine I spent harvesting were quite a significant change from my travels so far – obviously, I was working not partying – but 10 days was enough. Time to start the last leg of my journey – to Ireland and partying I go!

Although having lived in Stuttgart (Stuggi) for some time back when I first travelled, I had little recollection of the layout of the city, let alone it’s public transport. Thankfully Matze, an old mate from 2005 (first Eurotrip) was there to pick me up from the airport.

Exhausted as I was from Scotland, I had difficulties speaking English let alone German, but after 12 hours sleep we reacquainted ourselves. That evening I also went and saw the family I’d stayed with, the next day an old workmate. Stuggi has a lot of old friends, and I tried to make the most of my time there by catching up with them all.

Thursday night, after only 2 days in Stuttgart, I journeyed on to Rohrbach to catch up with yet another old friend (sensing a trend?). Only this time, first time for the trip, my tactic of winging it went horribly horribly wrong, and I spent the night in an equipment shelter on a sports ground with a cat to keep me warm. Oops.

Next morning I hightailed it to Heidelberg and a warm bed, fleeing to the safety of family. Last adventure for a while, because next 10 days is Weinlese (wine harvest) time!

Today I lose my last and longest travelling companion, Mr. Richards. He sits next to me on our return trip to London from Scotland, like me struggling to remain awake/concious – probably listening to The Horses by Daryl Braithwaite (I swear it’s his theme song).

After his snap decision to partake in the Europe adventure only weeks before the departure date, things have been pretty hectic and always fun. I think we only spent 3 days, if that, apart – that’s not bad for nigh on 5 months of travelling.

We’ve learnt a lot about each other while travelling – for one he doesn’t appreciate a drunk me falling on him while he sleeps, and that he can drink for days on end, especially if on a boat – as well as sharing some truly awesome experiences.

I’ll miss you dude, be good to catch up in November when I get back.

Holy Jesus Scotland was huge. Absolutely massive. 5 solid days of partying – some of the best fun I’ve had in my life. I’ll start from the beginning though – some would say lacking originality; I would say a stroke of brilliance on my part.

Arriving in Edinburgh late afternoon we made our way to the hostel – easier than it sounds as we had no real directions beyond ‘get to the castle, it’s right next to it’. Once there we were informed of a free, hostel run pub crawl starting shortly. And this is where everything begins.

Over the next 6 days, from that Thursday till Wednesday 1am – 6 days, 139 hours – I got 9 hours sleep. The remainder of the time was spent partying, sightseeing, partying, drinking, partying, doing stupid shit. Absolutely insane.

So, it started with aforementioned hostel run pub crawl. Karaoke, various clubs, culminating in a marathon pool session with a twist. As the pool table was free of charge, the challenger wouldn’t have to pay to play the winner – instead, the winner would receive a free drink. 26 games without losing later (I play better when I’m drunk, and I wouldn’t call the competition skilled), the first night ended. I by no means consumed 26 drinks, god no. I gave most of them away, cause I’d be fucked after 10 let alone 26.

2 hours sleep later, Dickie and I head off to start our 3 day Haggis Skye High tour. The tour would take us to many of the famous places of the Scottish Highlands, accompanied by our Scottish tour guide Joe who provided history, commentary and personal insights on most of them. However, Joe thought most of the places we were visiting were ‘SHYTE!’, and we quickly ditched our itinerary in favour of his  route.

Joe pretty much made the tour, his thick and often unintelligible Scottish accent and crazy behaviour livening any activity – from encouraging, nay promoting, drinking on the bus, to teaching us traditional Scottish dancing on top of a windswept crag, the man was just entertaining.

After a night (and morning) of partying on the shores of Loch Ness in Fort Augustus we continued touring around, seeing the castle Eilean Donan Kintail (from Highlander) amongst other things. One high point (literally) was Quiraing, a windswept plateau high in the  Trotternish Ridge. The wind there was so strong that there was a warning advising parents to hold onto children. It really was staggeringly strong, making it a nerve wracking venture to approach the edge and look at the view for fear of being blown off. It was there, in the lee of the bus, that Joe taught us the Scottish Country Dance (after we’d all had some whiskey of course). Needless to say, bloody hilarious.

That night we returned to Fort Augustus for another night of revelry, this time involving (for me at least) a quick dip in Loch Ness after a few brewskies. Shit it was cold – thats what you get swimming at night. We also had the pleasure of being given a history lesson of Scotland, spoiled somewhat by belligerent Americans (from another tour bus) being fuckwits and getting kicked out – returning later to break a window. Still, the wankerish yanks were the minority; the remainder were pretty bloody awesome – some had managed to sneak a bottle of vodka into the pub we were at and were sneaking shots in the toilets.
After that bar closed and kicked us out, and the next bar only allowed us to buy some roadies and kicked us out again. So, we ended up at Morags (the place from the night before), a hostel/bar which technically should have closed as well. However, the owner was pretty trashed, so kept the bar and music running all night. By the end of the night I was behind the bar, handing out drinks to all fellow tour-goers. Massive night, over £100 of free drinks hahah

The next and last day of the tour we saw the castle from Monty Python’s Holy Grail french taunting scene, kissed a Highland Cow named Hamish and climbed up the William Wallace memorial tower. Once back in Edinburgh however, we organised for most of the tour group to come together for a pub crawl that night. Drinking early into the morning, with the aid of a Jäger train and a devilish drink called Irn-Bru; an energy drink loaded with caffeine, sugar, taurine and quinne, a mild pain killer. One of them kept me going for a damn long time, definitely worth the £1.50

Monday dawned, 4 days awake, starting the 5th, with roughly 6 hours sleep. Brilliant. After yet another free walking tour (I keep pushing these cause they really are damn good) and some ambling around Edinburgh, we climbed to the highest peak in Holyrood park to watch the sunset. Then, off to the pub! We’d found a place which had live music, covers mainly, and chilled there for a bit listening to a bit of CCR, Men at Work and other classics. We also found, to Dickies delight, that they served Bundy Rum! After knocking a couple of them back (not for me, bundy burn no thanks) we went on our own little pub crawl, ending up at a heavy metal karaoke club…that was interesting. My body was starting to crash, so I wasn’t too opposed when we had an early night, crashing out at 5 or so.

8 am the next day we’re up and getting ready to catch our train back out of Scotland. Dickie, slightly more rested, managed this task readily enough and headed off to breakfast with a mate, while I staggered through showering and packing. Ran into a fellow Croatia Cruise-er while doing so and caught up with him a bit, which was pretty cool.

Catching the train was almost an adventure in itself, with Steve leaving it to literally the last seconds to arrive at the station, meet up with me, and find out seats. He had the tickets too, so I couldn’t have bailed even if I’d wanted to hahah.

And so ends the epicness that was Scotland. By the Tuesday of our train back to London I’d spent more time partying and drinking than I had sleeping or sightseeing, eaten huge amounts of haggis and met some amazing people. Oh, and experienced all the ‘liquid sunshine’ I ever want to

With the loss of David last evening, Mr Richards and I decided to do the touristy thing and go sightseeing – something Dave had already done.

Thankfully, the day was bright, sunny, and for London, warm. We spent the first half of the day doing our own thing, then joined another of the Free Walking Tours and saw some of the more classical sights. Camdem market was noteworthy, perhaps not as vast as Marrakech but with infinitely more variety. On the walk back from there we detoured through Regents Park and a fairly ritzy area of town – how could we tell? The counteless Porsches, Lambos, the odd R8 or R35 GTR kinda gave it away. I was constanly pointing them out, loving it.

The Museums ate up another full day, the Natural History Museum and the Science and Tech museum providing hours of entertainment – most highly recommend them, seeing as they are free and all.

Finishing off my second venture to London was a 6am run through Hyde park, the sun rising majestically through the mist as I ran through the crisp morning air (wankerish I know, but it truly was a beautiful sight).

London being done, Steve and I headed to our last joint destination – the Scottish Highlands

This is pretty much a placeholder post, as we haven’t really done enough to justify a full post yet. Not sure how frequent the blogging will be from now on in, as losing Mr Young’s laptop (and his company of course ) makes things somewhat more difficult. Nevertheless, I will try. Edinborough and the Scottish Highlands to go, then I work for a bit in Germany – hardly blogworthy.

This is pretty much a placeholder post, as we haven’t really done enough to justify a full post yet. Not sure how frequent the blogging will be from now on in, as losing Mr Young’s laptop (and his company of course ) makes things somewhat more difficult. Nevertheless, I will try. Edinborough and the Scottish Highlands to go, then I work for a bit in Germany – hardly blogworthy.

In any case, farewell Mr Young! Been a bloody good trip, look forward to catch up with you in a month and reminiscing.

P.S. Yes, I could have written about how much I drank and what kind of things I did, but you all know me well enough to make your own judgements. I will say that it was bloody awesome though

Amsterdam had special meaning for us. Not because the obvious reasons, moreso as it would be the scene of our last stint as a travelling group before losing another member. Dave would be heading home soon after, and we would be down to two. And of course, cause of the obvious reasons.

So with great anticipation we boarded the train from Antwerp (stopover from Bruges) and zoomed off to Amsterdam. Then promptly stopped. The train had caught fire. Typical. After that got sorted we were off! Finally stumbling into our hostel at 10pm, we were greeted by a room full of smoke and music pumping away. Thankfully, our room only had a slight haze of smoke, quite bearable.

Our first action the day after was to go on a walking tour of Amsterdam (yet another plug to New Europe Walking Tours), which showed us a lot. Afterwards Dave and I went on a wander ourselves, checking out some of the 260 coffee shops still with licenses and doing the touristy thing – no, not getting absolutely stoned off our faces and falling in the canals, but seeing the sights.

Beyond constant, constant partying, one of the highlights from Amsterdam would have to be a bike ride along the dykes on the north side of town, venturing out in the farmlands and villages barely half an hour from Amsterdam proper.

Another major highlight was the AFL Grand Final which took place at 5:30am on Saturday morning local time. Seeing how I went to bed at 4 after a big, big night, I didn’t expect to be in much of a shape to enjoy it. Turns out I was mistaken, and the next 4 hours were brilliant. Probably a new record too, 5 beers before 9am, and spending $20 AUD on a meat pie. Bloody good pie though, just what I needed to fully enjoy the game.

4 days of crazy experiences behind us, we headed to London, bidding (for most of us) farewell to mainland Europe.

P.S. Yes, I could have written about how much I drank and what kind of things I did, but you all know me well enough to make your own judgements. I will say that it was bloody awesome though

Man, I’m so original. We went to Bruges, so I called the post In Bruges. After the film. Hah, the wit!

On a less toolish note, the only reason we chose to go to Bruges was because we saw the film In Bruges. Random plug, but a seriously good watch.

Bruges is a picturesque town, amazingly beautiful. Cobblestone streets, canals and parks cutting through the town, the scent of chocolate, waffles and fries (Hot Tip: Belgium is the home of Fries, not France, and they are gooood) wafting out from the countless shops offering these delectables. Living, while not cheap, was by no means expensive, and finding the small places which had quality goods became a real pleasure.

Really, I can’t write too much about Bruges because it is something you just have to see for yourself. I can’t describe the enjoyment you get from wandering the streets, pictures can’t capture the sounds and smells, so I won’t waste my time trying.

I can however recommend renting a bike and riding the 20km or so to the coast, or even up north and ducking into the Netherlands for an afternoon before cycling home. We went to the coast, and it was a great ride. Till Steve’s tire went flat, 6km from home. That wasn’t too great, but the rest was!

After a less than peaceful 2 days in Bruges (1 euro beers from 9pm-1am makes any night big), we headed to Amsterdam, and our final stint in mainland Europe.

Oh, and I recommend not walking down the street, singing Bobby McFerrin’s Don’t Worry Be Happy at the top of 4 peoples voices at 1am. The locals don’t really appreciate it hahaha

Erlenbach is such a small town that as we walked through it (from a larger town nearby, as Erlenbach doesn’t have a train station) and passed a dance school, all the 15-16 year olds rushed to the window to wave and carry on. We were staying with my grandparents, well into their 80′s, so it was traditional German living all the way.

Our time was spent doing things not normally associated with tourists. Picking fruit, collecting walnuts, making jam, cleaning out and preparing the tractor and trailers for the upcoming wine harvest. Unfortunately, due to the lack of rain, the grapes weren’t quite ripe and everything had been pushed back some weeks.

Still, we were well occupied, even attending a oil presentation and tasting night (walnut, poppy, flax and canola) at my distant family’s farm. My cousin (twice or three times removed or something, we shared great-grand parents) offered to take us out to the Weindorf (literally Wine Village) festival that night, so come 10pm we’re in the midst of a MASSIVE crowd filling street after street in the middle of Heilbronn, downing wine like there was no tomorrow. Bloody surprise to me, as I’d never heard of it before and had spent a fair amount of time at my grandparents place. Highlight of the evening was Stefan (aforementioned cousin) buying a bottle of his own wine from a shop to drink with us. Hilarious. Well, at the time anyway. We were fairly drunk, wine not our normal drink of choice.

A horrible nights sleep later (wine dreams are MESSED up…not allowing a certain someone anywhere near me with a golf club again) we were roused to eat lunch before heading back to Heidelberg for a day trip, to celebrate a young cousins graduation or something. Hours of cake filled goodness followed by a table tennis tournament (as I said, one extreme – backpacking through Morocco, partying in Berlin – to the other – taking part in a family gathering playing table tennis), we retreated back to Erlenbach to pack and prepare for a long travel day tomorrow.

On a side note, pushing 190km/h on the autobahn with me in the boot…new record (for car boot speed)!