Copenhagen

After 210km/hr Autobahn adventure and an afternoon exploration of Bremen I made an impressive entrance to Denmark. My 15-carriage ICE train drove directly onto a ferry in North Germany and then 40 minutes later drove off again and into Denmark.

Copenhagen won me over right away. +50 points for the locals being incredibly friendly and outgoing. +500 because they're all tall, blonde and ride bicycles in tights. Bonus points for the people who opened up their first-story apartment window to hold an impromptu rock concert.

Although the weather was mostly awful, I did manage to explore several huge parks and a cemetary with the impressive ability to attract sun-bathers. Another highlight of the trip was spending the weekend with Tim who flew up from Dusseldorf. He almost didn't survive to fly back down again after I talked him into joining me on a 70km bike trip up the coast.

The rest of my time was mostly spent repeatedly opening the hostel door with a bunch of cool travellers, befriending locals as they drank wine from plastic cups outside a convenience store, singing along to a fantastic Irish Wes-Musician and having a more unsavoury discussion about cheese than you can possibly imagine.

I've started making a shortlist of places in Europe where I would enjoy living for a few months. Copenhagen enters near the top!

Wildeshausen

My first taste of Germany was a young kid at the airport who couldn't have been more than 12 wearing a T-Shirt that read, "SAVE WATER, DRINK BEER!". This turned out to be an appropriate message.

Wildeshausen is a town in Northern Germany of about 20,000 people. Once a year they host a week long Pfingsten Festival and I was invited by two of my German friends to join their family for the celebrations. The fun began on the night two with my introduction to 'Dixie' - basically Craps but with a lot more vodka. Sitting in a circle everyone takes turns rolling two dice and on a seven everyone has to yell "DIXIE." Whoever is slowest has to drink. There are plenty of other rules which also lead to drinking as proved by Day 2's scorecard:

Everyone was feeling understandably seedy by the morning of Day 4 when the main event began. Just before lunch more than 2000 guild members and one Australian assembled in the centre of town dressed in tailcoats with top hats and rifles. After dividing up into 400 man companies we marched out to the first 'feeding of the troops' for an hour of free beer. After another march through town we snuck home for a barbecue and then returned just in time to see the new king of the festival crowned. The new King then led all 2000 troops on a 2 miles march back through town while everyone else from Wildeshausen lined the streets to cheer us on.

Our final duty was to assemble together in huge hall for another hour of free beer. The atmosphere in a room with 2000 drunk German men, all singing, dancing and pounding their rifles into the table has to be experienced to be believed. Almost completely deafened, we rejoined the rest of the town in a giant tent where the party continued until well after sunrise.

Many thanks to everyone in Wildehausen for being incredibly friendly and showing me an amazing time. Special thanks to my marching crew "The Dixi Dicks":

Thorsten "Humerous Remark Not Appropriate In This Family Blog "

Nico "Actually I'm from Denmark"

Lars "I need to pee"

and our support crew, "The Dixi Chicks" without whom we would never have survived.

Yvonne "Anybody"

Nicola "Mum Noises"

M M M My Girona & I HATE Airports (Part 74)

The route I took from Toulouse to Bremen was a little counter-intuitive. I headed by train and a couple of buses in the completely the opposite direction until I reached a whole different countryand then flew straight to Bremen from an airport in Northern Spain.

I expected Girona to be just an airport however it turned out to be the unexpected gem of my trip so far. I spent the afternoon wandering the picturesque old-town - narrow winding cobblestone streets, a partly intact roman wall and a magnificent Cathedral. Best of all, the city was almost completely void of foreign tourists.

In the evening I headed out to a lively plaza with a friendly Slovakian hostel-goer, and spent the evening sipping beer and eating a banquet of tapas. The perfect one-day spanish experience.

My experience at Girona Airport was a lot less enjoyable. Budget Airlines have made travelling across Europe quicker but vastly more frustrating. In Europe RyanAir are the worst of the worst. They force you arrive at the airport the earliest, have the most uncomfortable seats with the least leg-room, the lowest baggage allowance and although their flights seem cheap, after you include taxes and all the other unavoidable, booking, baggage and credit card fees, you end up paying about three times the advertised price.

And while most airlines are at least somewhat flexible with their baggage limits RyanAir have staff waiting at every gate to weigh and size test every bag during boarding. I tried to walk on carrying a small book and my iphone and they actually made me put them back into my bag just to make sure they didn't weigh 3 kgs. My advice - don't fly RyanAir.

Too Loose?

A short flight from Orly airport got me to Toulouse, a city in Southern France with about half a million people. Toulouse is world famous for its Aerospace industry and also for being the current hometown of The International Swing Dancing Sensation: 'Alana'.

After the first of several great meals, I met Alana's French boy Vincent and several of his friends who all happened to be employees of Meteo France. After the terrible weather in Paris, befriending a group of Meteorologists turned out to be a fantastic idea. After several hours 'consulting maps' they drove us from rainy Toulouse to the sunny Mediterranean Coast for a weekend of rock climbing, hiking and camping.

On the way back home we pulled over right in front of a public toilet and I almost made the amateur mistake of going inside to use the urinal. The real Frenchmen walked straight past the 'toilet' and instead used a tree with a great view of the highway. Other acceptable places to take a slash include, any grassed area, roadsigns and the side of buildings.

After a rest day in Toulouse, we borrowed Vince's car and headed to the Pyrenees for a couple of days of snow-hiking. Although it was still too early in the year to reach some of the higher summits, the weather was amazing so there were plenty of sensational views at lower altitudes.

I rounded out my time in Toulouse with a night at the Circus. No Fit State are a non-profit troupe based in Wales and comprised of performers from all over the world. Although the acrobats are incredibly talented, the main draw card is the uniquely interactive atmosphere. Throughout the show the crowd is ushered around and even under the acrobats as they perform which makes it feel like everyone has front row seats. Highly recommended!

I'll finish with a few tips and tricks that helped me survive in France.

Don't be fooled by Zebra Crossing and Pedestrian Traffic Lights. It is a common misconception that they are designed to help Pedestrians cross the road safely. In France the opposite is true - they are actually designed to indicate areas of high pedestrian density. This allows motorists to be more efficient in their attempts to run people over. When in France, stay safe and Jay-walk.

If you want to look convincingly French (and have an empty bladder) try walking around with a baguette under your arm. If you don't have a baguette, you can substitute a large roll of pink toilet paper (as all French toilet paper is pink). The first time I tried this technique, it only took a couple of minutes before I was identified as a knowledgeable local and asked for directions. This allowed me to complete the perfect French impersonation by completely ignoring them.

Stereotypes aside, I really enjoyed my time in France. The food was outstanding - I probably ate about 3kg of cheese - and although the language barrier was more apparent than in some other Northern European countries, I was able to chat with enough English speaking locals to least get some feel for the culture. Thanks again to Alana and Vincent for putting up with me for a whole week!

L'aventure Recommence

The weather in Paris was awful. Continuous drizzle and strong winds made me wish I'd packed more than just t-shirts. I'm ashamed to admit that I abandoned a walking tour part way through to avoid freezing to death - In the future I'll stick to mountaineering in shorts. Although some locals have assured me that the weather is unseasonal, my stewardess just announced, "the weather upon our arrival will be quite nice - 10 degrees with rain" so I'm not so sure.

Having already visited Paris a couple of times, I mostly skipped the tourist attractions although I did spend a day admiring Louis XIV's palace at Versailles. Seeing it in the late 1700s would’ve been enough to turn me into a revolutionary. The rest of my time was mostly spent I wandering the streets with all all 13 of my t-shirts layered under my windstopper.

Although so many things about Paris are beautifully charming, it was hard to stop thinking just how much better it would be without the 13 gazillion map wielding tourists. If I could eliminate just one group ‘loud Americans that use $2000 DSLRs to take flash photos of the Eiffel Tower’ would be first against the wall. I wish I could have visited Paris 40 years ago when Parisians still formed the majority.

There have been a few amusing incidents so far including:

Stumbling into my hostel at 9am after 30 hours in transit to find a bunch of under-age Americans priming themselves with breakfast-beers.

Being asked to take a photo of a young gay couple as they french kissed in a secluded corner of the Versailles Gardens.

Heading out for a few drinks with a mixed group of fellow hostel residents. We returned a few hours later, minus the female members of our group who had all been picked up and taken home by Frenchmen.

Il est bon d'être le roi.