Phil and Alli's Excellent Adventures

Don't mention the war! (Bavaria, Germany)

cmdwedge — Sun, 31 Dec 2006 22:18:00 GMT

Morning all! I know that I've been a bit tardy with the posts, but here goes. We're in England now, at Alli's great-aunt's place. On dialup.. always fun. As a result, I won't be able to post any pics, it'd take years (and would hog the phone line). I'll try and write up the three countries we've been to in articles, though.

Anyway, we took the train from Amsterdam to Frankfurt (every single time I type 'Frankfurt', I actually type 'Frankston' and have to hit backspace). There are two Frankfurts in Germany, and they're both reasonably big, so the official name of the Frankfurt in the middle is Frankfurt-am-Main, or Frankfurt on the Main river. And Main is pronounced 'mine'. Damn Germans. Anyway, the train was about 5 hours from Amsterdam to Frankfurt, and was pretty much without incident.

After arriving in Frankfurt late in the afternoon, we found our cheapo hotel across the road from the Hauptbahnhoff (main train station), dropped our packs off in the room, and did some washing at a local coin laundy. Took us a bit of trying to figure out all the German writing everywhere, we wasted €4 trying to put money into the wrong machine (it said 'defekt'.. somehow missed that!). Got everything washed and dried, so we were good to go for another week. We had a bier at the pub up the street while waiting for our clothes. And herein lies my favourite little tidbit about Germany. Bier (beer) cannot be taxed. Beer is considered to be 'liquid bread', according to some royal decree back in the day, and as such, is considered a staple food and cannot be taxed. And as a result, beer was cheapest in Germany, by a long shot. About the same as water in some places. Brilliant! And the beer in Germany was more than acceptable, so we drank beer every day. Hoorah!

We had a good night's sleep, then trotted downstairs the next morning to begin our bus tour of Bavaria, the Black Forest, and shitloads of Christmas Markets. Shitloads. One a day - 7 markets in total. We had enough of them by about day 4. They're a very German concept, though there are markets in other European countries. We met the tour guide, Arthur, and the bus driver, Franz. I could look it up and tell you what we did and saw each day, but I'll spare you the boredom. It was exciting for us, of course. But I'll give you some highlights (obivously, these are the towns and places that really stuck out in my mind).

The first town we went to was Heidelberg. Really stunning place, looks like it's from the 1400's or so. Probably is, actually. After wandering around town for a few minutes (and briefly looking at the Christmas Markets there), we took a lift up the side of the mountain to the castle overlooking the town. Now, this is the first European castle we'd seen, so we were absolutely in awe. After mentioning how bloody huge the place is, we were told that only 20% of the castle remained - when the French invaded the place, the attempted to raze the castle to the ground. It looked mostly complete to us - though of course, there were big torn-off chunks here and there. One particular bit that I found absolutely fascinating was the powder tower - they kept all of their gunpowder for their cannons there. The wall was 8m of solid stone thick! Amazing. And of course, we could see that it was so thick because some clown inside had set off the powder (again, in the 1400s) and sheared half of the tower off. I took a few pics of it, and will upload them soon. It's really something that you have to see to believe.

We came to Rothenberg on another day of the tour, it was a walled, medieval town which had basically never been modernised. All of the buildings look as original as ever. We visited the torture museum, which did our heads right in. Torture was apparently a valid way of getting a confession out of a potential criminal! Thank god we don't do anything so barbaric in 2006! *cough* Trotted about 100 steps up the tallest tower in the town, only to have the door right up the top closed, and the German lady tell us that they had closed for the day. We were all of 5 steps from the top, ffs! German efficiency, I suppose. After seeing all the tourist wankery on the main street, we decided to walk down some little alleyways, away from the tourists, and find some 'path less taken' shots with the camera. Found some great spots, including some arrow slits in the stone wall from which we could see the countryside (and almost see the barbarian invaders!). Brilliant town, but a bit too touristy.

It was sometime after this that we found ourselves in the Black Forest. Our first stop in the Black Forest itself was at a cuckoo clock shop. Apparently, it was the best one in the Black Forest, all hand made by a father and son who ran the shop. We were liquored up with a shot of cherry wine by the owner, took some shots of the world's largest working cuckoo clock (about two stories tall, fully functional!) and proceeded inside. We had agreed to purchase a real cuckoo clock in Germany, and had, as such, set aside the funds to do so. Got a really great 7-day one (slighty more expensive - they only need to be wound once a week, as opposed to the once a day ones), duty free, 10% off because we were with this particular tour group, and packed, shipped to Australia and insured, for a grand total of about $400AUD. Sounds like a lot, but it's something we'll have forever and it looks the shit. Our cat is going to go mental. Moreso, anyway. We also ate a piece of Black Forest cake (as you do) which was great. The coffee that I had with it was awful, but.. well, they make beer, don't they? It's no Melbourne.

After dropping a fair whack of our funds on a clock, we got right into Bavaria. Started seeing patchy ice and stuff and thought that we'd never see snow. Boy, were we wrong. For about 3 of the 7 days of the tour, we were in proper, ridgy didge snow. The weather was overcast but it never actually snowed while we were there - no matter, we had snow fights at every opportunity. That is, Alli screamed at me to stop throwing snow at her because she was sick. Probably should have mentioned that - Alli caught a nasty cold on the tour. I caught it a week later in Paris. Both still fighting it off now in England, but it's almost finished off.

Before I proceed, I must mention our tour group. There were about 25 of us, I think. I can remember the following (and forget most of the names).

An Aussie from the Gold Coast - about 60 years old, really funny, really well travelled sort of person. Really liked her. Addendum: Alli reckons this woman didn't like us. I disagree. We're adorable.
A pair of Scottish ladies.. mother and daughter. Mother was in her mid 80's, daughter must have been well into her 50's, maybe early 60's. Both excellent value, we talked about kilts and haggis with them (they loved haggis!).
An Aussie couple from Tasmania - they had won a trip to Europe at some travel show, sod them! We had dinner with them a couple of times, they were really cool too.
About 5 New Yorkers - whom I more or less detested at the start of the trip, but liked them by the end.
A few other Yanks, some from Colorado, some from.. Wisconsin? All nice.
Couple from South Africa. Weird. Didn't speak, not even to each other. We were stuck on a table with them for breakfast one morning, and they said all of three words. Bugger them.
And.. drumroll please.. the single most annoying human being I have ever met in my entire life. I am not making this up. The shameful part is - she's from Melbourne (well, Olinda technically). She is 29. She lives with her parents. She saved up $20,000 to go on this trip to Europe (good on her!) I could go on forever about this girl, but let me make a few dot points.

1. She kept referring to € as 'dollars'.
2. As a result of #1, she kept telling us how cheap everything in Europe was. She had absolutely no idea about currency conversion. I explained it to her (double the number, and knock about 10% off) about 20 times. Literally, about 20 times, not a rounded number. And she'd then come back with a set of 'antique' cutlery (tarnished crap from someone's mum's drawer) for €14 and tell us how it seemed like 'very good value for only fourteen dollars'. Or the Christmas decoration that she bought for just €10 (about $18AUD). Idiot.
3. As a result of #2, she was burning through money at a rapid rate of knots. She was down to $6000... less that one week into her tour. She bought anything and everything she could buy at the Christmas markets - with no idea about luggage, extra charges on any planes she takes (she would have been tremendously over the 20kg limit within days of starting). I mean it, everyone would ask how much she bought after any given day.
4. Constantly asking me to help her with her digital camera. Daily. Hourly almost, it seemed. She'd bought a new one in Singapore from a 'nice man' on the way over to London. It had an English-language manual. She refused to read it, simply expecting that everyone else on the bus would know how to operate a Canon XYZ80. Once I had helped her out a couple of times, she kept coming back to me. I had to explain that she couldn't move her bloody hands around when taking a shot. I had to explain autofocus. I had to explain the flash. And so on.
5. For some strange reason (I do have a theory), when describing something, she'd use the most obtuse, bizarre method of describing it. For instance, when returning to the bus one day, she said 'It's cold out there! I'm as cold as a snowman with no mittens on!' Who speaks like that? This chick does. My theory is that she speaks like this because she works in child care - and thus she speaks like that to children all day, and has somehow never made the distinction between children and adults.
6. She had bought a new ski-style jacket for the tour of Bavaria. Good idea. We had too (back in Australia). Problem is, she had the tag still hanging off the main zipper. The BIG tag. The one about the size of a piece of bread, with all the wank about 'water resistance' and 'wicking moisture' and 'cockspank technology'. She had the tag there.. for 3 days. I know she knew about it - she had to grab the bloody zipper to do the coat up. After three whole days of formulating clever, witty, polite ways of broaching the subject, I just got sick of it. 'So Nicole, when are you cutting that tag off?' Alli belted me. I didn't care. I hated that bloody tag, dangling away. 'Oh, eventually'. 'No, you're doing it right now'. Another belting from Alli. 'I've just never gotten around to it'. She rips off the paper part, leaving the plastic loop. This is not enough for me. 'I have my Leatherman here, I'll cut off the rest for you'. 'No, it's ok, I'll do it later'. 'Come here. We're doing it now'. And I cut it off. I swear, I slept so well that night.
7. On one of the last days on the trip, she opened up a bit and told us about her love life. Along the lines of a guy she sort of liked.. who once said to her 'would you be up for a threesome, because I'm desperate'. This was a mate of her brother. This did not offend her.. she knocked him back, but wasn't remotely offended. She had no idea that it WAS offensive. Alli and I thought she was joking. She was not.

And I've left the best till last. On our tour were the best couple I've ever met. Ever. They are from Brazil, Maurizio (Maurice) and Katia. Farking awesome people. Both spoke English pretty darn well (certainly better than my Portugeuse). Maurice was a history professor, Katia is a lawyer. Maurice was somewhere in his late 30s or so, Katia in her late 20's to early 30s. Hard to tell. Maurice was telling the funniest jokes all the time, talking to me about Brazil, eating with us, etc. I really cannot say enough about the two of them. They even bought Nicole The Idiot a card at the end of the tour, as she was getting teary about having the tour end (suck it up, princess!). Just amazing, wonderful people. We exchanged email addresses, etc. Can't wait to see them again.

Best night ever on the tour - the Hoffbrahaus (German beer hall) in Munich. All you can eat pork knuckles, sauerkraut, schnitzel, bratwurst, etc. And one litre steins of German beer. Yay! There's a full German show up on stage with singing, dancing, leiderhosen, bell ringing, wood chopping, the whole shebang. Farking awesome (litre of beer helps lighten the mood!). Anyway, about an hour into the show, which lasts around 3 hours, one of the performing troupe tapped me on the shoulder and said 'where are you from?'. 'Straylya'. 'Come with me'. Shit. Germans. Being marched off, away from my friends. Bright light in my eyes. 'Ve have vays of making you talk'. Instead, I was taken behind stage, given leiderhosen, and told that I had 2 minutes to be ready for stage. I was then taught the very basics of slapping my knees and my feet. Which I did, badly. A Japanese bloke was behind stage with me, he looked entirely nonplussed. I was petrified. 'But I can't dance! I'm white!' 'It doesn't matter.. just freestyle'. Well, alright then. So up on stage, bit of bowing and smiling and all that. Crowd of circa 300 people (more? 500?) roaring with laughter. Me in green leiderhosen and felt hat. And dance, I did. So utterly, utterly badly. Australia, I let us down on the world stage. I apologise. Looked over to our tour table, and could see flashes going off every few seconds. Gawd. Got back to the table after a bow and round of applause, to big smiles and laughter from all. The Hoffbrahaus even gave me a picture of my performance about 30 minutes later (with eyes closed for the shot, of course). Gold. Great night indeed.

After the tour, we ended up back in Frankfurt. Washed our clothes, hopped onto the night train headed for Munich, then to Venice. The airconditioning in our car was on full and stuck there, so whilst we managed to get a 6 seat compartment to ourselves, we froze our tits off all night. Absolutely terrible journey, couldn't sleep. It was about 12 hours of misery. Italians kept opening the door to the compartment, standing there, and then walking off.. often leaving the door open. One stood there standing, staring at Alli for about 3 minutes, in the dark. Freak. Thankfully, we got through unscathed, and arrived in Venice. We had no idea just how sucky the trip across Europe could be.. Belgium, Holland and Germany were so farking awesome.. and everyone loves Italy! What could go wrong?

Strap yourself in.

Adios,

A+P.

Amsterdam, pot and hookers

cmdwedge — Fri, 15 Dec 2006 07:17:00 GMT

I participated in two of the three. I ask you, the viewer, to guess which two.

Before we proceed, I must protest against this hellish keyboard. Farking Germans. They lose the war, they fark the tourists. Y and Z are flipped around. So if you notice any spelling mistakes, blame them.

Anyway, onward and upward.

We finished up in Amsterdam, 3 nights, 2 days of solid rain, then blue skies and beautiful scenery. Just as we left Amsterdam Centraal Station. So I didn't get many decent pictures, unfortunately. What we have, I shall post.

As already mentioned, we saw Anne Frank Huis, which was really fascinating. On the 2nd day, we did a couple of things that we kinda wanted to do, and missed one that we really wanted as well. We ate 'stamppot', which is a Dutch specialty that we saw in the Lonely Planet guide. It consists of (to my understanding, anyway), mashed spuds, bacon (or sausage, or whatever), and a few veges. Like a fancy pants bubble and squeak, but not fried. Found it at a deli, took it back to our B und B, and nuked it. Is nice.

Seriously though. This keyboard is the devil. I thought that the Germans had it in for us by inventing SAP. This keyboard is worse!

Anyway.

Did I mention the canal cruise? We did that too. Stood in the pouring rain, freezing our tits off, until it started. The tour was quite nice, saw some crazy stuff, and it gave us some inspiration to see what we did the next night.

The Red Light District.

Yes, it needs underlining. I considered using bold as well, but that's just getting too showey. Anywho. It was a real eye-opener. We were told that it was pretty amazing, but nothing prepares you for it. Hundreds, literally hundreds of hookers, stand behind glass doors, gyrating around and smiling and waving to you. Even if your girlfriend is standing right there - they'll flirt with her too. There are literally red lights (neon bar lights) above each 'room', which designates it as a hooker's room. Farking crazy. The 'johns' mosey along, looking at the girls, window shopping as it were, and picking the one that takes their fancy. I'm not kidding or exaggerating. These men will walk right up to the glass, stroke their beards, furrow their brows, and give the quiet nod, if they like what they see. Bizarre. After this little song and dance, the lady (should have used quotes!) will open the door, allow the man inside, and close the door. A red curtain is then drawn across the window, to show that the lady is 'occupado'. Like a toilet. But you'd probably rather eat a meal with a toilet. Bleck.

A quick rundown of the types of ladies in the RLD.

1. Normal chicks.

2. Fattie boombahs (there was a row of these. some weird Dutch fetish bizzo).

3. Sammich-needin' bitches. Seriously, eat something.

4. Half decent chicks... and

5. Grannies. Ew. Hotdog down a hallway sort of thing. *shudder*

Alli just reminded me - 'did you forget about the men'. And when she says men, she means ladyboys. Girl on top, man downstairs. Small man, but man nonetheless. More shuddering.

Another fun experience in the RLD - being offered drugs on the street. Like, five times. 'Speed, ecstasy?' No thanks. My trick was to simply shake the head, wave them away like a fly, and keep walking. Alli, being as adorable and cute as possible, when being asked 'speed, ecstasy' replied, in her nicest voice 'no thankyou!'. Not a hint of malice. Like she'd just been offered a sample of a new Maggi product at a sample stall in Coles. I set her straight, of course - no eye contact, just wave them off, they'll leave you alone. Not true, of course. We then were asked whether we wanted the aforementioned drugs by a nice gentleman. I waved him off, as normal. This time, 2 other gentleman joined this man, and started following us. Seriously. We had one more store between us and a stretch of very dark, unlit street ahead. I quietly told Alli to head into the store (a bottle shop, for what it's worth). 'Why?' 'We're being followed'. 'Oh my god!' We ducked into the shop, did a pretend lap around the store.. the three gentlemen passed, and we were safe. Whew! One needs to keep their wits in the 'Dam.

OK. Enough of that. What else? Oh yes, the rain. It rained nearly nonstop for the two days we were in Amsterdam. Almost got me in a shitty mood, but it was too awesome to really care. Now for the bit you've all been waiting for.

Pot smoking in Amsterdam.

We seriously debated whether to do this or not. Alli practically dragged me into a 'coffeeshop' (as opposed to a 'coffee shop' or a 'cafe' - all marijuana-selling places must be called 'coffeeshop', one word). Just kidding of course.. I was fairly keen to try this unique cultural experience. We found a not so seedy looking place.. some places looked decidedly seedy, but, given that it really is legal there, there are many unseedy shops too. Clean, neat, nice. We walked in. Sat down opposite the bar. There were two seperate bars - one for beers, one for pot. I asked for a couple of beers (Heinekens, natch) at the beer bar, in the hopes of getting up the courage to ask for something entirely different, and somewhat naughty, at the second bar.

I eventually took myself off to the second bar. There was a little chart there showing the various types of dope, and the price by the gram. I asked the guy (he was Dutch) 'what would you recommend for two Aussies who haven't had a smoke in ten years?' He suggested the Thai - 'very smooth, very mellow. Easy to smoke.' How much? 4 Euro - about $7AUD, for a prerolled, ready to smoke, doobie. It even came in a little plastic tube, somewhat like those used for cigars. We borrowed a lighter from a Pommy bloke next to us, and lit up. We shared it, of course. Lightweights that we are. Smoked pretty much all of it, got absolutely ripped. Walked to an Italian place, oddly hungry all of a sudden (I told you - ten years). Figured that we'd share a pizza and a pasta, and take the rest back to the B&B for 'later'. Somehow managed to eat them both. Walked to a tram station (I still don't remember doing this) and taking the tram back to bed. Which I also don't remember - but there were two stamps on our tram card to prove that it really did happen.

Drugs, my friends, are bad, m'ka'?

And that's almost the end of our little Amsterdam trip. Except for one last thing... the morning of our departure for Frankfurt in Germany, and given that we had 2 hours to wait before the train departed, we decided to avail ourselves of a coffee and a hot chocolate in the very, very opulent cafe at the station. After a few minutes, Alli trots off to the loo, and comes back momentarily. Phil's turn.

Here goes.

I trotted off to the bathroom. There was one stall, and it was free (and clean, yay). I closed the door.. had some trouble getting it to lock, but fiddled with it and got it locked. Did my sinful business, finished up, stood up, flushed, zipped up, et al. Then I tried to open the door.

It wouldn't open.

Fiddled some more. Smiled as I thought 'this will sound funny on the blog'. It still didn't open. Then I started getting desperate. I banged on the door. I called out. No-one answered. Uh oh. I then tried to shoulder it open, like in the movies.

Movie version: door splinters off the hinges, man emerges unscathed.

Real life: shoulder fucking hurts. Door doesn't budge.

Oh hang on now. I have my phone. Salvation! I'll call Alli! She'll ride in like a knight in shinig armor, and save me! Yeah! I ring Alli.. she.. doesn't recognise the number (stupid international shenanigans, it blocks the number), and given that it's eleventy billion dollars to take a call in Europe on your Aussie mobile, she hits reject.

Moments later, my signal drops out. Emergency calls only. Fark.

Another five minutes of stressing, cursing, shouldering, kicking and altogether being a man, and I cave. 112. International emergency number. 'Hello? Do you speak English?' 'Of course, how can I help?'. I'm stuck in a toilet. In Amsterdam Station. Yes, seriously. No, I am not kidding. The one in the restaurant. Yes, the lock is broken. OK. OK, you're sending the Politie. Uhuh. Fine. Thanks.

All of 30 seconds later, and a staff member arrives. 'Hallo?' 'Hello? Can you get the staff? I'm locked in here!' 'You are stuck in there?' 'Yes! Get the staff, please!'. 'OK, one moment!'

Staff arrive. Screwdriver in hand, and I am liberated, 25 minutes after entering the stall. One takes a moment to point out the 'Defect' sign on the door of the stall. The very same door that was wide open when I entered, and thus, completely hidden from all eyes. They start laughing. 'Very funny, yes? This is a Dutch joke on the Aussie, isn't it?' 'No, not a Dutch joke, just funny!'.

Ha.

I trot back to Alli, and explain the whole thing. A minute later, and 3 police (Politie) arrive. All armed to the hilt, wired headsets, and serious looks. I explain that I was, indeed, the one who called, and that I had been saved by the bar staff. They just smiled and thanked me, and walked off. Nothing fazed them (as shown in a flyer distributed by the Dutch police ... and I quote 'If you fall into a canal after smoking too much, do not be embarassed. We have seen it all before'). Top stuff.

And we hopped onto the train, and took first class all the way to Frankfurt. Even had a beer on the train. Very smick.

I'll leave it there. Internet in Europe ain't cheap. Will post some more pics in the next couple of days.

Love yas.

Phil and Alli

Gallery: Netherlands, week one

cmdwedge — Fri, 8 Dec 2006 16:57:00 GMT

Pics from Amsterdam

Gallery: Belgium, week one

cmdwedge — Fri, 8 Dec 2006 16:56:00 GMT

Pics from Belgium

Week one (London, Brugge, Amsterdam)

cmdwedge — Fri, 8 Dec 2006 16:28:00 GMT

Hello all!

Well, we're a week into the trip now. Flew into London (not literally).. 9 hours from Melbourne to Hong Kong, 2 hours stopover, then 13 hours to London. Cattle class is bullshit. We arrived at Tullamarine very early in the hope that we could get an aisle seat, but no luck. My 6'2" frame unfortunately had me with a pillow jammed between my knee and the seat in front - my poor knee was being smooshed into the people in front of me! Pah! Slept a few hours, but nothing really substantial.

Arrived in London, found our way on the Tube to The Oval and our hotel for the first night. Had a curry in London's West End with my sister Mel and her friend Judith; they have recently moved to London to find work and probably boyfriends. Here's a tip - try and hold your breath when waiting for a train on the Underground. Even after taking just one train, if you blow your nose - all your boogers will be black from the soot down there (seriously). Curry was excellent, we got an early night for the big start the next day.

Hopped onto the Eurostar at London Waterloo Station at 10:38am. Zipped over to Lille, then Brussels (Belgium). Changed trains to a domestic line, on to Brugge (or Bruges in French). Pronounced 'Broo-zhe'.

Brugge is the most amazing city I've ever seen. Just astounding. Tons of Gothic architecture (you know, buildings that cut themselves and listen to Marilyn Manson). Many buildings dating from the 1400's and 1500's. Our B&B was built in 1740.. predating the First Fleet by about 48 years. Ate steamed mussels (moules) on the first night - Alli had Flemish stew (with beef and kidneys). Loads of frites (fries), they're ubiquitous.

The beer and chocolate are spectacular. Really. There must have been a chocolatier in Brugge every 50m. Pastry shops every 100m. And cafes (pubs) every 100m too. It's awesome drinking Grolsch and Trappist beers as 'local' beers - they're the cheap ones!

Climbed all 366 steps of the Belfry in Brugge, took quite a few pictures, and jumped 10 feet into the air as the giant bell next to my head rang out the 11am chime.

We spent 3 nights in Brugge (2 full days), and then zipped off to Amsterdam (via Antwerp - where all the diamond traders .. trade, er, diamonds).

Amsterdam is fucking wet and fucking cold. There, we got that out of the way. Our jackets are working triple time - ski jacket, jumper, beanie, gloves, scarf. And it's not enough. Brugge was cool, Amsterdam is cold. Canberra cold, but windier and wetter. We have had a few hours of no rain, so it's not a bust. Having such a good time, that the weather doesn't seem to dampen our spirits at all.

We first visited Anne Frank Huis (Anne Frank House). Does your head right in, standing in the real-deal place that Anne and her family hid in for 3 (?) years before being marched outside by Nazis.. off to Auschwitz (Anne died a month before the English liberated the camp). Very packed, but well worth the visit. Lots of videos and pictures to see there, it takes about 30-45 minutes to walk through the lot. Really sad stuff.

After wandering around for a few hours, we took an evening canal cruise last night, which was 90 minutes with an English speaking guide. Top stuff, you learn and see more about the city in that short time than wandering around aimlessly. Saw some crazy stuff, including the red light district (pot and hookers), and 7 houses with dodgy foundations - so dodgy, that they're all leaning against each other, almost falling over. The council just keeps putting new concrete pillars into the foundation, as repairing the walls would destroy the houses.

OK.. couple of quick things that may explain the pics.

We've been to an Irish pub around the corner here in Amsterdam, 2 nights running. On the first night, we saw a pub cat that just walked around and did whatever it liked. We gave it a pat, walked back to our table, and it followed us. Hopped up onto the table, then sat on Alli's lap. For the next half hour, it kept taking turns sitting alternatively on my lap then Alli's lap, purring loud enough that you could hear it over the music. The 2nd night we were there, there were 2 cats! The one from the night before, and another one - curled up with each other, asleep, on the counter of the bar (no exaggeration). Got a great pic of them, with a Guiness tap behind. :)

Yes, stuff is expensive. It's best not to convert the prices of things, or it does your head in. It's not unbearably expensive, but the Aussie $ could be stronger (please!).

We're having a top time. One more night (tonight) in Amsterdam, then off to Frankfurt-am-Main in Germany, and a one-week Christmas Markets tour.

Will try and update this journal soon!

All the best,

Phil and Alli