Railway Lines

Berlin - Downfall 2012. Euro 2012 blog - part 3

It will be impossible to articulate how good last night was. I actually found myself taking a step back at times just to admire what was going on around us. By midday yesterday the hostel, like most of the guests, was full to the gills. After trading countless stories on the journey so far we decided to take a break from the asylum and head into the town. Just in time too as the Buckfast was being passed around the breakfast tables by people who wouldn't last the day.

The rail passes work for all the trains in Berlin so we did a bit of a hop on hop off tour to the likes of the Berlin wall, Checkpoint Charlie and the Brandenburg gate. All a bit underwhelming to be honest, I reckon I could hop the wall actually. Definitely with a leg up. The best part was bumping into all the other green jerseys doing the same thing, and the roars out of every pub we walked by.  Not to be rude, we'd pop into a few on the way for a Pilsener. Then we saw the main attraction. A sky scraper with a rooftop bar, sure we could see all the sights from up there without moving anything but the drinking hand.

Watching the games in the hostel bar, word started spreading of a bar in Berlin that the travelling contingent had selected as the venue for the night. With absolutely no idea where it was, we just grabbed a taxi and asked for "Bier Boerse". We obviously weren't the first to ask. He dropped us off and said it was a five minute walk down along the river. The minute we stood out of the taxi all you could hear was "Stand up for the boys in green" as clear as day.

We absolutely pegged it and towards the noise and what we found was absolute pandemonium. A picture of beauty. The pub again was a sea of green and it had burst its banks out onto the street. "Stand up for the boys in green" was soon followed by deafening silence for "sit down for the boys in green". Then "shoes off for the boys", "tops off for the boys in green" and finally "jocks off for the boys in green" Luckily the latter request was largely ignored. I headed inside, through the throngs of shoeless, shirtless, feckless Irishmen. Honestly, it was spine tingling. The video may not do it justice, or be of decent quality, but it is worth a watch. Remember, this is only Berlin, a pit stop on the way to Poland.

The hostel room this morning was like the scene in the Hangover as I saw lads from the neighbouring bunks trying to figure out where the were, and how they got there. As I looked down I saw we had an extra lodger. A young red headed lad, naked as the day he was born, lying face down on the wooden floor. He got up, reached for his jeans, and then remembered why he was starkers. He then woke the rest of the room shouting in his Navan accent, "awh jesus I got sick in me jeans, me good bloody jeans too, ah no!" Two more weeks of this. It is apparent already that sleep is not going to feature too much on this trip. Four hours a night if your lucky but you get up with the sun. Ive always been a man for his sleep, but over here you just dont want to miss a minute.

Later today, we catch a train to Poznan and the Carlsberg fancamp and I cant wait. We have just checked out and waved off the Campervans who headed bright and early, in convoy to "beat the traffic". The rocky Road to Poland is coming to an end.