The World Cup final and Post Cup depression: 2/2

After wrestling between a once in a lifetime flight on the Antonov and watching the World Cup Final at the same time as everyone else (taping it and doing the both just wasn’t going to cut it) I finally realised that I hadn’t watched nearly every game to miss the climax. Feeling bad for declining the generous offer, I stayed home to await the final. After jumping onto Volker’s bike to test the forest path to nearby Nürtingen I quickly realised that riding a bike that was too big for me, without a helmet, through a forest I didn’t know was the quickest way for me to ensure a return to the injury list. And so I turned back for Tischardt after half an hour.
As 8 o’clock approached I sat down to watch the final. It was a sensational game to say the least. A penalty to the French gave them the early lead but the Italians soon equalised via a header later that half. The game was played at a breakneck speed as both sides attempted to out play the other, attacking and then quickly defending, back and forth like a long rally in a good tennis game. Slowly, the French gained the upper hand but failed to convert. As the game went into overtime, it was certainly the French who looked the better of the two. Despite the Italian tactics (behind the scenes trips, shirt holding and generally underhanded play) the French still didn’t secure the goal that seemed just beyond reach. And then, all of a sudden, it happened: Zinédine Zidane attempted his impersonation of a ram as he blatantly head-butted an Italian defender in the chest. A red card later and the French were down to ten men for the remainder of the 2nd half of overtime. Still the Italians failed to capitalise on events and take control. As the whistle blew it was crunch time…a penalty shoot out. As it happened, Italy was faultless in the shoot out and ended up victorious.
One can’t help but feel bad, not only for the French, but also for football in general. One would be hard pressed (unless they were Italian) to believe the best team won on the day. It seems that the team that “cheated” the most, taking dives in the penalty box, shirt holding and so forth ended up being the World Champions. Despite this, one must concede that the Italians had only 2 goals scored against them. At the end of the day, I can only hope that the Socceroos get the opportunity at the next World Cup to remind the Italians who was playing the better football, and even the score. In truth I was stuffed either way; either unhappy that the Italians won, or unhappy because I wasn’t in France when they one. With baited breath, I await the next final in 2010.
The following day was like a blur. As we walked around Stuttgart central it was if the place had become a ghost town. People walked aimlessly but with the defined purpose of a routine Monday. The spark in their eyes and the spring in their step seemed more than tempered by the briefcases in hand, replacing the horns and flags from the previous weeks. After all of the emotion, tension and excitement that was The World Cup the day after the cup was surreal. People seemed visibly depressed. For the football crazy, The Cup is a feast of the best teams in the world competing for the ultimate prize.
What had started as a 4~5 day stay with Volker ended 3 weeks later when I boarded the train back to Paris. Volker, I believe, is more Aussie than German although the fact that he prefers a shante (half beer – half lemonade) to the real thing does leave him a little in no man’s land. He graciously welcomed me with opened arms, and never battered an eyelid as my stay seemed to go on…and on!! He doesn’t wear socks and sandals, a truly German trait, and enjoys quick jokes and taking the piss as if it was normal for his demeanour. Unfortunately I will be unable to return the favour when he travels to Australia in September of this year. However, should any of you guys out there have the time to take him to a milk-bar for a meat pie, or down to pub for the counter meal, I can guarantee it time well spent.



Cool and Not Cool – Germany:
1. hospitality: WAY SUPER COOL;
2. coffee: many places have coffee “machines”, the push the corresponding button kind. The coffee was okay but not the same as the real thing. VARIEDLY COOL
3. food: It was nowhere near as bland as I was originally lead to believe. I even enjoyed the Sauerkraut!! COOL
4. beer: The variety, price and size all combined to make any beer drinking person feel like he has died and gone to heaven. The emerging of multiple, and good, micro-breweries in Australian can only be a positive step forward for our nation of beer drinkers. COOL
5. language: phrases like “bitter….” (please give me) “danke” (thanks) “gutentag” (hello) and “affiedezen” (goodbye) won’t help you pull the beautiful girl in the corner but will make you trip around germany easier. For the later, international sign language is always yours best option. COOL
6. radio stations: generally limited to a song selection of 10 songs which get played continually, in different orders, during each day meant the possession of an iPod™ to be invaluable. NOT COOL
7. music: exposure to a variety of music did not do any favours for the German music scene. Admittedly I am yet to experience the Berlin club scene, however the need of the Germans to mix and remix songs (usually one’s completely incompatible) meant that the sound of two constipated ducks having sex was more melodic. NOT COOL
8. driving: the freedom to floor it and travel at a far more practical speed is way and above anything like driving back home. Unlike France, where the majority of cars are small things with dents front and back (the French are the kings of the touch park) the Germans take great pride in their automotive industry. Mercedes, Audis, Porsches and BMW’s are everywhere. Add these high performance cars to the autobahn and all you need to do is remember which side of the road to drive on and off you go. SUPER COOL



9. dress sense: while liederhose are cool because they are traditional, the fashion of socks and sandals is not. STOP DOING IT.



There are times when practicality really must take a back seat to fashion. Unfortunately, the sight of young children sporting the same attire leads me to think that there is no stopping the phenomenon. WAY SUPER NOT COOL

10. german haircuts........speak for themselves!!



11. lighting a cigarette from a candle. The myth in German, stemming deep from their history, is that everytime you do it, a sailor dies. It related to a need for the large numbers of unemployed sailors to sell matches whilst waiting for someone to die so they could take their spot on a boat….or something to that effect. NOT COOL

Overall Germany rating: COOL.

Bi-planes and World Cup finals. 1/2

Author note: As I only get a few opportunities to update my blog, when I update with multiple posts, I shall preface them with a counter of what number and order to read so you won't miss a beat.....or get trapped into some weird time warp that goes forward and back in time (while describing the past as it happens!)



One of the many great things of travelling is experiencing other cultures and languages , trying new foods and seeing landscapes and architecture completely foreign to our own comfort zone, pardon the pun. This is nothing new to those of you that have travelled and hopefully words of inspiration to those thinking of leaving down under for the first time. Despite the all of the joys of travelling, there is also a downside; leaving family and friends for a while, losing a comfort zone and the familiarity in life that these bring. One thing you know in you’re local area is where to get a good feed. Some are even lucky enough to know a good chef well enough to leave the menu closed and ask for the to “whip something up” for you, leaving the decision to the chef in the knowledge that you will not be disappointed. This kind of dining is difficult, if not impossible, when backpacking around foreign countries. While in essence every time you pick up a menu and order something, particularly when you don’t understand the language, it is the same thing. Then again it’s not.
Fortunately, another great thing of travelling is the people you meet and the people you meet through them. Friday evening was finally time to catch up with a close friend of Volker’s named Uli, also a pilot. We met Uli as we waited, with some 6,000 other supporters, for the German team to arrive in Stuttgart for the 3rd place final the following day. To the disappointment of the fans, the bus slowed and drove through the throng of supporters with the players waving from windows. There was to be no time for autograph signing this evening. After consoling a young toddler who couldn’t quite put it together that the team was on the bus and that’s all that was going to happen, we headed off to a small Italian restaurant well known to Uli. We were warmly greeted by the owner/chef and it became quickly clear that Uli had eaten more than the take-away pizza they had on offer. A quick decision was made to leave the details up to the chef and we sat back to get acquainted. Over a glass of beer and then some wonderful white wine we settled into what turned out to be a sumptuous 4 course meal:
Starter – German style Garlic pizza
Entrée – homemade 3 herb pesto pasta
Salad
Main – pan fried king prawns, some fish (I can’t remember the name) and calamari, with rocket and a light balsamic dressing.

This meal was washed down with a glass of red and topped with a small nip of Grappa. Despite all protests, it was clear that I was not going to be able to contribute my share of the bill however had I thrown in my ≈ €40, it would have been money well spent. We left to get ready for the following days activities with included an air show and the Germany vs Portugal game.
The air show was a real treat, the highlight being a 1953 Antonov A2(?), single propeller bi-plane that was the heart of the Lufthansa fleet in earlier times and later for East Germany.



As Uli was working with the Antonov he kindly secured us free seats for one of the accreditation flights, i.e. the flights not allowed to take regular passengers as they were assessing a pilot for solo flight status. Cool?!?!?!? I was admittedly already a little nervous about getting onto this 1950’s plane that spewed incredible about of oil out of it’s single propeller engine the entire time. Pilot competence was not my greatest concern, it was more the combination of old plane and air show. History tells us that the introduction of “air show” into some circumstance has led to trouble, crashes and death. Now I was about to get into a plane that combined old plane, one engine, pilot assessment and air show into the same equation. Was I crazy? Oh....did I forget to mention bad weather?!?!



Nonetheless, with earplugs in place and camera at the ready, I climbed in to take up one of the 9 passenger seats in the passenger compartment.



There was no cabin service on this baby, it was strap yourself (work that out for yourself too, no safety video or steward demonstration, although there was a safety card)



and hope to God you got the opportunity to get back off in one piece.
At the end of the day, it was an awesome flight. Despite the close proximity of the trees to the wings during the 2 touch go landing-take offs we did, the experience was well worth the apprehension and there was now an opportunity to take the return flight from the airfield to where the aircraft was based the following day. Despite the awesome, and generous offer, this left me in a quandary…the flight would mean missing the World Cup Final.
The game between Germany and Portugal was a spirited contest between two teams wondering about what could have been. However it was the German team that looked to have dealt with the disappointment, of missing out on the finals, in a more positive way showing a lot of the class that had been the hallmark of their campaign. A brilliant goal in the 1st half, followed by an unfortunate own-goal later in the half kept the keen Portuguese supports quiet. A second brilliant goal by the Germans was the nail in the coffin for the Portuguese team who left the tournament, without a medal but still knowing that they were No. 4 in the world. The German fans were back to their best as car horns blared and sirens wailed. Initial concern that perhaps the magic had gone after being knocked out of the race for the final was quickly dispelled leading up to the game, with flags out windows, over bonnets and even out of roofs. It ended up being a good result for them and a fantastic World Cup. I was certainly glad to have been a part of it.

24 hours in strasbourg

Due to the practised efficiency of airline administration my carefully arranged, and eagerly anticipated, trip in the cockpit with Volker was cancelled (or more likely postponed). Needing to get some more credit for my French phone meant the best thing was to hop back over the border to France and so to Strasbourg it was. After finding the tourist information office, and successfully changing back from my backyard German to more formal French, I quickly ascertained where the Youth Hostels were and, more importantly, how to get to them. Following the written and verbal instructions given I jumped onto the number 10 bus, after eventually finding the bus stop which, as it turned out, was not where she said it was (probably the first sign that things were not as they seemed). Keeping a keen eye on the bus stops, I got off at the advised stop,(the one she circled heavily whilst saying Il faut sortir à cet station- you have to get off at this station). ignoring the little voice inside me questioning the point of having a bus stop named Auberge de Jeunesse, (Youth Hostel), the next stop.
After walking and passing the said bus stop about 800 metres, two busy intersections and a silent tram that came from the wrong direction later I eventually found the street upon which the hostel was located, not 5 metres from said bus stop. Luckily, for the “kind person” at the tourist information, I did not have my full back pack with me and was travelling light. Had I had my main backpack with me, I would have taken great joy getting onto the bus (bags and all) at the correct bus stop, riding back to tourist info, kicking her in the arse, before returning to WHERE the bus stop was, getting the bus and then getting off AT THE CORRECT STOP. Thankfully I had better things to do and so instead laughed calmly (umm?!?!) and checked into the hostel. The hostel was a reasonably sized place with a camping ground attached, entertainment room, internet and bar. Oh, I almost forgot the close proximity to the TRAIN LINE!!!!!!!!!! Thankfully ear plugs were a planned item this journey so sleep would be forthcoming.
First point of call was to find a Tabac or phone store to buy more credit for the phone. It is very easy to appreciate that when someone calls your mobile when you’re not in Australia, the phone call costs you as well. Unfortunately the same is true when using or answering a phone in another country whilst in Europe. Apparently European Union is a loosely used term that does not include similar co-operation between phone companies!! Unfortunately it seemed that the small throbbing in my head, after celebratorials with the French from the previous evening, was nothing compared to what the rest of France was experiencing as nearly every shop, including the Tabacs were closed early. With remembered skill from my first trip to Paris, I left my map and bus timetable at the backpackers and then proceeded to get myself incredibly lost in the old streets of Strasbourg whilst looking for any shop that would suit my needs. Choosing to continue to use my internal male compass rather than the unnecessary task of asking for directions, I eventually found a Tabac that was open…yer; computers were down and therefore unable to buy more credit…..doh!
After spending nowhere near enough time in Strasbourg (less than 24hours) it was back to Stuttgart for the weekend’s games, including the much anticipated final. After that, who knows? Perhaps Paris for Bastille Day and the Rane, Vienna to see friends from language school or maybe I’ll just throw a dart at a map of Europe and see where it lands?
As for Strasbourg, an enchanting place bisected with small canals and paved pedestrian streets. The main part of the old town is surrounded by these canals, and the abundance of ducks and swans, lack of traffic, and weeping trees gives a wonderful tranquillity not able to be fully appreciated in the time that I had. It is a place that is perfectly set up for bicycles and with places hiring them for €2 a day it won’t be long before I return to enjoy the city more.

Tips for young players: How to get lost in a foreign city
1. obtain city map but don’t look at it more than to follow “directions” given by tourist office to get to place of accommodation;
2. leave map at accommodation;
3. walk around looking for a particular place taking no notice of anything else;
4. make random Left and Right hand turns (or use the coin method – flip a coin at every second intersection, heads for left, tails for right).
5. stop and look around.

You know when you have succeeded in your goal as you have that funny sensation in the lower part of your abdomen, or when you look back and ask yourself “did I just walk down that street?!”
Knowing “I’m lost” or “I’m looking for..” in another language is really only useful if your grasp of that language is good enough to understand the reply. Although that being said, whilst nodding and initiating the “Universal Sign Language” discussion will get you in at least the right direction. Sometimes, if not often, it is good to get yourself lost in foreign countries. You certainly stumble across some untold treasures (shops, restaurants, architecture etc) that can make your journey unique, and that awful feeling in your stomach, go away.

The reality of travelling

Facts for the traveller:
1. Bills will always find you;
2. Money owed to you needs to be chased up through a series of irritating, and expensive, phone calls made at awkward hours of day since you are calling people in another time zone well removed from your own;
3. no one returns a call when it requires them to call you back at a time that might be a slight inconvenience to them or involves calling an international number;
4. administration is exactly the same for any business and company, changing plans and rosters at moments notice irrespective of carefully laid, paid for and booked arrangements made by “the Little People”.
5. tourist cruise boats on the Rheine can not out run a lightning storm it headed straight into before turning to travel away from it as the down pour, and thunderclaps directly overhead, cause all people to crowd into the humid, and already busy, lower decks;
6. passing the bank used by nude sunbathers, whilst on the way towards the storm, was not one of the high lights of the river cruise;
7. continuing to play the prepared recording in three languages explaining the sights from the Rheine becomes redundant when you can’t see out of the window because of the amount of rain falling outside!!;
8. most historical structures will have precisely placed scaffolding to ensure maximum disruption to any photos you are attempting to take!!

And now for sport:

France vs Portugal:

Having a vested interest in the French going through to the final has not blinded me to the fact that they were very lucky. I left Volker to get some sleep, for his early start the following day, and to find some Frogs and support Les Bleus. Draped in my expensive (€3) French flag, I meet a cool bunch of French people from Avignon who welcomed me with open arms. After accepting their heartfelt disappointment at the outcome of the last Aussie game against Italy, we sat down to watch a nerve racking 90 minutes of football. After Zidane scored a goal from a questionable penalty given in the first half (was he actually tripped or did be dive?!?), Les Bleus took the lead. From there they went into “save our arse” mode as the Portuguese made numerous attacks. If it were not for some excellent defence and some athletic saves by the French goalie, it would certainly have been the French going home at full time. The Portuguese forwards were unlucky not to goal as they did a lot more work on the field than the French. Nonetheless, the strategy worked and the French were through to the final. One can only hope that they play a more attacking game against the Italians in the final, otherwise they are likely to get their butts kicked as the Italians did play well against the Germans.

Cologne and a morbid silence:

Whilst Volker has been doing his refresher-update pilot thing, I have been on walkabout around Cologne. Near the western corner of Germany, Cologne is an enticing city centred around an immense Gothic Cathedral known as “The Dom”. As with Stuttgart, most of the picturesque squares have been transformed in to large public viewing areas and make-shift beer halls called “Fan Mile”. These Fan Miles are wonderful places to soak up the World Cup fever but are uninspiring for photography.
Not to be deterred, I set of in search of something else sporting my tank top, shorts and sandals, digital camera and film (B&W) camera. Cologne sits on the Rheine, an important commercial and transport means around Germany. Spanning the river Rheine are numerous rail and road bridges of varied design. Added to the skyline, was also a variety of churches of Romanesque design. The abruptly squarer appearance of these spires contrasted beautifully against the dramatic conical gothic design of the Dom.
Unfortunately whilst with Volker in Cologne, I have been forced to suffer Airline company accommodation. The first night at the Crown Plaza, a four star “dump” was only made worse after having to move the next night to the Radisson, clearly a move in the wrong direction!! After a sumptuous Mexican dinner with a few of the other pilots,it was off to the biggest of the “Fan Miles” in Cologne, located on the river bank, to watch the semi-final between Italy and Germany.






Sporting my gift of a t-shirt, with German colours and “German By Honor” printed on the back, I watched with my hands on my head as the game swung back and forth. Both teams played superbly as they each tried to penetrate the others defences (who are really the unsung heroes of any good team). The nil all score line at full time pushed the game into overtime and as this wore on, a penalty shootout as well. However when Italy scored a fantastic goal late in the 2nd half of overtime, things looked grim. Any hope of a German equaliser and hence penalty shoot out were dashed when Italy scored again in the dying moments. And so it was, the crowd of 100,000+ were silent, save a few cheers from the small contingent of Italians located somewhere near the front. It was over. The dream finish to what had been a spectacular display by the young German team was not to be. There was no spirited chanting and waving of flags, nor tears of joy and the blaring of horns (which actually sounded like constipated ducks). It was over. After the initial stunned silence, the chorus started again as fans tried to rekindle something from the loss, trying hard to sing in support of the efforts of their team but the energy certainly wasn't there.

Differences between the Fan Mile in Stuttgart and Cologne:
1. Cologne was a bigger site easily accommodating the 100,000 plus spectators;
2. Cologne took a total of 5 minutes to get into as opposed to Stuttgart which took closer to an hour;
3. beer was cheaper in Cologne;
4. the screens were better in Stuttgart;
5. the plastic cups in which the beer is sold (with a deposit which you got back when you bought the cup back…a great idea I thought) were better in Stuttgart. They were more sturdy and had prettier pictures;
6. between the halves, Cologne turned into a massive, spontaneous outdoor rave party.



7. Germany won when we were in Stuttgart!

The brighter side of the German loss is that I am no longer in a quandary regarding the final should France make it. Allez Les Bleus!!!!!!!

When Football meets a Music Festival

A weekend by myself, whilst Volker left for Hamburg for the night, left me with:
1. the apartment to myself;
2. two quarter finals: England vs Portugal and France vs Brazil;
3. a local music festival.

As I spent time catching up on emails, going through photos and trying to keep my blog up to date, I managed some catching up with friends over Skype™ and MSNmessenger™. The whole idea of Skype™ is awesome: it’s a free telephone service over the internet, using your computer as the handset. To get it, just Google™ it and then download for free.
Now, the phone connections you have with someone can range from perfectly crystal clear to communication between NASA launch control and one of the space shuttles. As it’s free you can’t really complain and the problem can be easily fixed by buying a headset microphone unit. However, the problem is that some people think it is perfectly okay to just call you. I’m not talking about mates, I’m talking about randoms! This is unacceptable behaviour!! You don’t just pick up the phone and randomly call someone on the other side of the world…do you?!? I know it’s free but come on!!
After humouring the first person that called, in a mix between her bad English and my not quite so fluent anymore Chinese, I decided that things needed to be done about this. Apparently changing to “Do not Disturb” meant that nothing would get through to you, even from friends, and that simply wouldn’t do. What worked the best was, completely contradicting my profile (English speaking, Australian in Torq):
1. answering in English;
2. quickly changing into French explaining it as the preferred language because;
3. I was currently living in Germany.

Confused?!? It certainly confused the hell out of the randoms calling and soon I attained a blissful, uninterrupted working environment. Had anyone answered back in French I probably would have talked to them to practice my French. Unfortunately, none of them did.
As for football, to continue my missed calling to be a football analyst:

England vs Portugal:

Essentially a disappointing display by both sides. No one really impressed as an attacking team as the game turned more into kick~to~kick between “professional players”. Without being too harsh, trying to understand the German commentary was more entertaining. England went down to 10 men and lost Beckham to injury and there still wasn’t any excitement! Portugal eventually won after a textbook display of “how not to” English penalty kicking. Sorry to my English mates but I reckon some would even agree with me on this one.

France vs Brazil:

Now this game was exciting and not because of my vested interest in The Bleus. There were plenty of worthy attempts and skilful play as both teams had their chances. Slowly, it looked like the French were beginning to get the upper hand over the highly fancied Brazilian team. France went on to score early in the second half and despite continued attempts buy the Brazilians to equalise, the final whistle blew and they were out of there!

My original hopes of a France-England and Germany-Italy semi-final were unfortunately dashed however should there be a French-German grand final I might very well be in a quandary. Perhaps escaping across the border to Switzerland and watching the game there will be the best option!!
The Saturday of football was engulfed in “culture” as well. Tischardt had a music festival. This entailed closing the main street, setting up a makeshift beer hall



with a stage at one end,



and then covering the whole thing with massive parachutes suspended from lampposts.



The music was a mixture: concert bands, cover bands, attempted rock bands, traditional German and even some yodelling. Some of it was actually quite good, no Hydrocoele mind you but entertaining nonetheless. Others were awful. One can only hope that they were sight-reading blindfolded because you couldn’t practice to be that bad. The locals didn’t seem to mind, although I believe this was due to:
1. they knew someone in the band; and
2. they were absolutely tanked on the beer.

As this was an alcohol free weekend for me, I was left with only one option: Run and Hide. Thank God for heavy shutters, good window seals and iPods™.
Monday and it was off to Köln (Cologne) in the western part of Germany. Volker, my good friend with whom I’ve been staying, is a pilot and certainly meets the criteria for being an excellent pilot:
1. well presented;
2. punctual;
3. co-ordinated;
4. friendly;
5. knows where he is flying to;
6. knows what time he is departing and arriving in all relevant places
7. knows which gate he leaves from.

Unfortunately, not all of these qualities are transferable to train travel. After a random delay on the way to our first connecting station of Mannheim, we quickly raced onto the next waiting train which, as it turned out, was the wrong train. Apparently platforms are a completely different thing to airport gates!! Luckily the train was headed in roughly the right direction. North, and it was then a short wait to make a connection in the correct direction. Despite the amount of crap I gave him for the mistake, it was really just another part of what makes travelling fun.

Football and supporting the home team

While gaining increasing popularity back in Australia, even before the Socceroos showed the rest of the world that we could compete and weren’t the “worst team in the competition” as some opposition coaches were quoted as saying, one really needs to experience the full deal in a country where football is lived: places like Europe, the UK, South America for example. Hopefully, with entry into the Asia league, Australia will start to pressure the top sides and show that, when it comes to sport, we only know how to play one way on the world stage, and that is to keep going until we reach the top. Be that as it may, we have some work to do but forward progress has to start from somewhere.
Being in Germany, the country hosting the World Cup (for those out their without contact with the outside world- itself an interesting paradox because you wouldn’t be reading this blog then) it is very hard not to get caught up in the World Cup Fever. Large plasma screen TV’s and massive open air displays seem to have grown out of the pavement as every beer hall attempts to cater for the hundreds and thousands of tourists and sports fans alike who have come to be a part of the event. Even in France, just over the border, the plasma sensation was quickly taking over even the smallest of bars. After Australia was knocked out, naturally I needed to find another team to support. Due to my Swiss friends from school, I adopted Switzerland as my next team only to see them knocked out on the same day. That left the mighty Bleus (France) to hold the fort and thankfully they made it through to the next stage. However, it is a brave person (fanatical fan or just an Englishman) who goes to Stuttgart central to cheer against the Germans. For today, I was to be German for a day.
Volker and I lined up to get into the main area 3 hours before the game, and at about 2 hours before kick-off, it was announced that the gates had closed after some 30,000 people had passed into the area. There were three huge screens and the area was surrounded by stalls selling beer, beer, beer , soft drink and food. Of the 30,000 inside, about 6 were from Argentina!!! At least that was all I counted. Another game of where's wally:



We were the lucky ones; we had a good view of the screens, ample supplies of beer and food and, most importantly plenty of portable toilets. The estimated 70~80,000 people outside the barriers had access to expensive beer (€10 a jug) limited toilet facilities and a crap view of the big screens (a view we knew first hand after the first elimination round against Sweden when we arrived late…2 hours before the game!) The scramble to obtain good vantage points outside of the barriers left the toilets looking a lot worse for wear!!



Without telling people how to suck eggs, I was not sure that playing tunes like “We are the champions” and singing chants like “Berlin, Berlin, we’re going to Berlin” before the game even started was necessarily the best way to approach the game. It certainly kept the crowd lively in the hours leading up to the game but certainly asks for Mr Murphy to stick his boot in at the wrong time. In fact after a scoreless first half, dominated by multiple penetrating attacks by the Argentinians , it almost looked as if the Germans might just be eating their words. The thing about home grounds is it’s great if their winning, and shithouse if they lose.
The second half quickly turned sour when Argentina scored a brilliant goal. There were no shots of Maradona celebrating, which was weird since in all of the other coverages he is shown with his family, swinging the Argentina jersey high above his head in celebration…perhaps he was busy doing lines of coke with his family in celebration instead. The mood amongst the 29,994 people in the area was solemn. Chances went begging and supporters became destitute. This was not going to plan…I was there to party and get right into it, not fade away as 100,000 supporters left home in defeat. Come on Germany.
The thing about football, as we Australians now know, is that the game is truly not over until the fat lady sings. Unlike a game of Aussie Rules or Rugby where a dominating team can make it clear, with points on the board, how the match is going to turn out, the international game of football is different. The Socceroos experienced the good (against Japan and Croatia) and the bad (against Italy) of this fact. The nature of football therefore means that you can have frustrating draws, devastating loses and ecstatic victories right up until the end of the game. And so, when Germany finally scored in the 80th minute, the crowd went nuts and the entire mood of the place changed. There was now hope for Germany to continue its rampage towards the final. The crowd lifted, flags waved and the signing started again. It was neigh on impossible not to get caught up in the whole thing.



The game itself went to overtime and then a penalty shoot out which the Germans ended up winning after their goalie saved two attempts, thus making the fifth attempt irrelevant. Party mode was in overdrive as the thousands of celebrating Germans hit the streets and began to party. The underground became a mass of red, yellow and black as people blew horns, whistles and hugged each other randomly down the platforms. The celebrations didn’t end there of course. They spilled onto the streets, stopping traffic as gangs of supporters stopped people from going anywhere until they’d blared the car horn for a solid 30 seconds. Car loads of people …with people sitting on the window sills mind you, waving the German flag, circled the streets as the police just blocked off streets to avoid any further congestion.




And so now it is time to await the next group in the semi-finals. Despite the days events, I’m still hoping that the winner of the Brazil~France game goes on to take the championship. Either way, I know I’ll be watching it, and as I suspect I will still be in Germany at the time, maybe I will have to go in my Aussie jersey and cheer for whoever wins!!

German hospitality and home made cooking

After safely making it home to Stuttgart, going a comfortable 220km/hr on the autobahn, it was time for this Santa to get some much needed rest. (Note: I got my shoes off!!) In the morning (after the night before), I had to pinch myself to make sure that it had really happened! Thankfully all had happened as I thought and we were through to the next stage. Unfortunately, despite everything, the Socceroos came undone against Italy. On the subject of “dodgy penalties in the dying seconds of a game” I shall remain quietly mute. No matter what I feel that the boys, and us as a reborn football nation, can hold our heads high and aim for the next World Cup to go that one step further. Everyone I’ve met since that day (still making to time to see every match but will talk about that later) have been honestly disappointed by the result. The Socceroos certainly gained the respect of the people here in Europe and that, in itself, is an achievement beyond any score on the board.
To fill in the time between games, Volker and I researched the possibility of hiring a Porsche for a day. Unfortunately, although not outrageous, we decided that it was going to be a bit too expensive. For anyone out there keen to look into it:

1. erento.com
2. €315 for the day including insurance (excess of €2,500)
3. 150 km free
4. €1.10 per km over the 150 km
5. 911 cabriolet

Fortunately, there was still plenty to do. My wonderful host had plans A, B and C worked out already. Initially I was planning to stay for “a couple of days around the Aussie game”. At this stage it looks like I’ll be here for about two weeks?!?
Currently I’m staying in Tischardt, (pronounced “T-shirt”), about 30 minutes drive South from the centre of Stuttgart. Stuttgart itself is home to Porsche and ?Mercedes (there’s a massive “city” known as Mercedes City so maybe it was born here too). Therefore, as was my duty to my father and sister, I went to the Porsche museum. There is a new one currently being built and it is expected to open late 2007. Thank Christ because the one they’ve got at the moment took all of 15 minutes to get around!! That included using an English-German dictionary to translate the plaques!!
Like the rest of Europe, the U.K. and Asia, Germany has castles and castle ruins and it was off to one of the castle ruins that over-looked Stuttgart. Thankfully my leg continues to improve because after parking the car, the steady walk up hill would have sucked the pus a week ago. The site gave amazing views of the surrounding area and gave me the ability to put everything into perspective. While one gets to know the regular roads, having no map and not being able to pronounce let alone read the road signs, can leave you feeling a little bit like Alice in Wonderland. Getting a birds-eye view helps to put things into perspective.
The next part of the extended stay in Stuttgart was to get out of there and down to Singen to meet Volker’s mother and brother and to try Sauerkraut. After the quick pop into Volker’s mum’s place to drop off the bags (and have all of our plans for the next 48 hours changed by plans that his mum had made for us…parents, the same everywhere!!) it was off to some near by ruins with an even steeper ascent than the last one. I guess I call it rehab for my leg!! Again, we were afforded spectacular views of the city and also of the nearby Lake Konstanz., were we headed next, after collecting Volker’s brother Axel.
Konstanz is a beautiful city across the border from Switzerland. The placid lake on which it rests was full of sailing boat (none as beautiful as Quetzal of course) as well as rowers and self-perpetuating paddle boat things. After cruising around the city it was off to one of the many micro-breweries for dinner. This brewery was basically a restaurant surrounding the distilling tanks and served awesome Weiner Schnitzels.
Tips for young players:
1. when the weather permits, always try to eat outside;
2. in case of extreme weather, try to get a seat under the large umbrella;
3. when it starts to spit, make sure that you are well under said umbrella;
4. when it starts to hail, continue to remain under said umbrella provided no rain gets into your beer or onto your food;
5. when it starts to hail, as well as torrentially down pour, in a horizontal direction it may be wise to move inside;
6. when thunder and lightning becomes associated with point 5, it is definitely time to get inside;
7. soggy chips and schnitzel do not taste good.



After the dramas of dinner, it was back to Singen to get some much needed rest prior to trying some homemade sauerkraut.
A wise man once said that: you don’t have to like everything in the world but you can’t say you don’t like something until you’ve tried it. Sage advise and especially true when something is homemade. The morning was fresh bread with homemade jam followed a few hours later by lunch with the family…and home made sauerkraut. It was good…in fact better than good; a little bit salty (made more so by the smoked meat it was prepared with) but complemented perfectly by the mash. Despite being 1100, initial reluctance towards the after brunch schnapps was quickly dispelled by the famous words “home-made schnapps”. As was explained, it has to burn inside the stomach before you’ve finished the shot. Now I appreciate why we have strict rules regulating what can be sold legally from licensed premises!!
After a relaxing stroll and dinner in Zurich (having taken another 2.0 GB card of photos at the waterfalls on the border) it was back to Stuttgart for some well needed rest…both after the hectic last days, and the coming Quarter Final between Germany and Argentina.