Spain. Espania. Home of paella. Home of Sangria. Home of women with hairy armpits. Home of San Fermin aka Running of the Bulls. Home to the Regina Hotel, the place that we would go on to maul, ravage its breakfast and give free bottles of scotch to its staff.

This is Barcelona. This is what Barcelona was about. I'm going to get detailed, but not as detailed as I could because I don't want to go to jail, but I'll use code like those Vietnamese people who got arrested did. I'm sure some of you will get the idea…

Actually, no, I'm not going to use code. I'm not saying anything. I better keep it to myself…or should I?

Barcelona

Anyway, we finished our Contiki in Paris after a MASSIVE night. The next morning we had to get up pretty early, the earliest of all days if I remember correctly (6:30). We all packed out bags and I got a phone call from my sister who wanted to know how Paris was. I told her it was "awesome…so awesome…oh my god last night was awesome," and Jonny, who was standing next to be, proceeded to yell "Man, you sound like a dirty pervert. Fag." He was right. I'd had 2 hours sleep and even after such a big night and still being a little drunk, I was practically telling my sister that I had done some bad things without actually saying anything.

Not all of the Contiki group got onto the bus, with some staying in Paris and doing their own thing. The bus was maybe half-full. We weren't going back to London with a majority of the bus, but instead were getting dropped off on the way at Paris airport to make our way to Barcelona airport.

We got dropped off at about 9am, and our plane didn't leave until about 2:30 in the afternoon which really sucked. After about 30 minutes of trying to find out where we were supposed to check it, we were all reliefed to see that our check-in desk was probably the least busiest of all the open desks. Unfortuantly, the lack of any logical and quick service by the stupid Air France attendant quickly diminished that relief. We had 6 people in front of us and it took us an hour to get to the desk, and then another 45 minutes to check-in. Whether it was this guy that was so slow, or the system, I don't know, but fuck me, Air France needs a fucking lesson in quick and speedy service. It took us the same amount of time to check into our flight in Paris as it took us to fly out of Paris, land in Barcelona, get our luggage, get on a bus to the hotel, find the hotel, check in, have a shit, and then pass out. Un-fucking-believable.

We finally check in, get something to eat and go through customs after a long wait. We all do some duty free shopping with Vespa getting two bottle of Scotch and the others getting food and whatnot. I bought myself a small bottle of Chanel Alurra.

Finally, we get on the plane and what at first looks to be a ¾ empty plane turns out to be almost full as just before take-off a group of about 40 French school children come on board. The plane was almost empty so I expected that I'd be sitting by myself and that the chances of them sitting right next to me would be slim. Well, let me tell you how fucking disappointed I was when a weird French teacher and weird 8 year old little girl sat on either side of me. Fuckers.

We get into Spain, get our luggage and head outside, trying to figure out how the fuck we were going to get to our hotel. Luckily, we bump into an Aussie backpacker who had been there many times before and he informs us that the bus he is getting on takes us directly to the place we needed to go. We get onto the bus (which is the same as a fucking Dyson's bus. Imagine lugging your suitcase onto the Bundoora Plaza-Northland bus) and sit out the 30-40 minute ride into town. Once the bus arrives into the heart of Barcelona, we get out and find ourselves it what seems to be the main square of the city. It's bustling, buzzing, and has a Hardrock Café so my first guess was that this had to be the tourist hub of the city.

There was an Australian tour-guide type lady hanging at the bus stop to help people who didn't know where they were going so asked her where the Regina Hotel was. She thought for a second, pointed in the other direction and said "over there". It was obvious she had no real idea, so we just walk around the place looking for the hotel. If there was ever a point that we looked like tourists, it was then. People were staring and laughing at us as we lugged out luggage around in 30 degree heat with clothes on suitable for the web and cold Paris weather.

Finally we find our hotel and check-in. We get to our rooms and Rob, Julian and me take the triple and Jonny and Vespa take the double. The rooms were fantastic and were easily the finest quality accommodation we stayed in throughout our whole time in Europe.

After we settled in we all cleaned ourselves off and rested for a bit. Me, rob and Julian headed downstairs for Burger King while Jonny and Vespa ventured a bit further out for something more traditional. I was way too hung-over and exhausted to go anywhere so we just kicked it in the hotel and did nothing for the night. Julian went out venturing in his own and bought a pair of Mui Mui sunglasses where he asked the saleswomen of some good places to go out. She directed us to a place called Moog which was't far from our hotel.

The next day wasn't that eventful. Jonny and Vespa went sightseeing and Julian joined them. Rob and I were going to go to the beach but we couldn't be fucked so we ended up sleeping in and doing nothing for most of the day. Earlier in the morning the five of us got up and early and absolutely destroyed the buffet breakfast which was good but nothing sensational. It is Europe afterall. It's probably something you'd get in Australia, but nothing compared to the breakfasts you get in Thailand and whatnot.

When Julian and the boys returned we all decided that that night we would head out and get some traditional Spanish cuisine as well as find a place to do our laundry. W come across a little Laundromat where we opted to have the little old lady who couldn't speak English do the laundry for us instead of have one of us wait for 3 hours to do the load ourselves. We left it there to be picked up the next morning.

There were the restaurants in the hotel guide that seemed appealing but we opted for something less touristy and more traditional. We came across a little Spanish place, which in Spain you don't actually call a Spanish restaurant cause the cuisine is just normal to them, but it felt a lot like a little Italian café that's owned by a grandfather and grandmother with true homemade cooking. We got some Tapas to start off with which was good and then all chose a Paella to get. For anyone who doesn't know, Paella is a rice dish with saffron and seafood and sometimes chicken. It was fucking awesome. While at the table, Vespa and Julian mentioned how two of their friends who they were later meeting in Mykanos were also in Barcelona that night for a one-night stopover on their way too Ibiza. They didn't have their numbers though so it was impossible to contact them. About 3 minutes later, to our shock, the two guys walk straight past our restaurant.

We returned to the hotel and me, Julian and Rob start to prepare for a night on the town. We all start drinking the scotch and get the music pumping.



The video is a bit dark but gets lighter.


After acting like retards in the hotel, we go to Moog which was about a 10 minute walk to our hotel. This club/bar was pretty small but had a unique and strange mixture of music. Downstairs it had progressive trance and house, whereas upstairs it had a mixture of garage house and indie rock. It was a really weird combination but the crowd was awesome. When we got there it was pretty dead but it slowly filled up.

After a while, and after a few failed attempts by Rob to pick up, we leave Moog and look for something else. Upon heading down one of the nightclub strips, we bump into a few promoters who direct us to a club directly opposite our hotel (forgot the name). On the way to that club, we bump into our fair share of prostitutes who all crave our business. For some reason it seemed as though the three of us had "vulnurble tourists" painted onto our forehead's. What's even funnier is that Julian seemed to get most of the attention, and I wish to this day that I had a camera with me that night. One prostitute in particular wouldn't take no for an answer. This one literally chased Julian down the street. Do any of you have any idea who funny it is to see a man being chased by a prostitute down the street? It was fantastic. We catch up to them, by which time the hooker had Julian by the arm, and head towards the nightclub. At this point Rob decides to call it a night and heads back to the hotel, leaving me with Julian and the hooker. We get to the club entrance where I had to convince the bouncers, who didn't speak English, that we didn't want the prostitute to join us. "Hables Inglese", which means "Do you speak English?" doesn't work, even if they speak English. If you say that, chance are you're a tourist and they won't help you.

Anyway, finally they pulled me and Julian inside and we discover that the club had a Metro feel about it, but the tunes were like nothing we'd ever heard before. Literally. While it wasn't hard trance, the house beats were all new and I hadn't heard any of them. And they weren't party sounds but more like progressive, chill-out house beats. After a beat of hanging around, a few drinks and checking the crowd out, Julian and I head home about 5am, just as the sun is rising.

The next morning (so about 3 hours later), the three of us wake up, leaving Vespa and Jonny, to go have some breakfast. We were also one of the first groups down there every morning, along with a group of fat American's.

We go back to our hotel and sleep it off until we're awoken by the other boys. Most of the day consisted of walking around the city, trying to find out how to get to the beach. Up to that point I couldn't believe we'd been in Barcelona for 2 days and still hadn't gone. Finally, after a shit load of walking, we find it and then go looking for a post office so the boys can send some shit home and unload their over-flowing suitcases.

On the way back we start looking for a place to eat. I suggested McDonald's, to the groans and abuse from the boys. After about an hour of trying to find somewhere, Vespa actually says "Let's just get Burger King", even after they all abused me for suggesting Maccas. We end up finding a Tapas place where get a shit load of food and stuff our faces.

That night me, Julian and Rob head out to the nightclub near our hotel. While there, we start talking…actually, no. I'll rephrase that. Rob and Julian start talking to two young girls from Malaysia or Singapore or whatever. Rob seemed for intent on picking up one of these girls, both of whom I knew weren't up for that thing.

After numours attempts to pull Rob and Jules away from the girls, all five of us end up in the club and on the dance-floor. Now, I don't mind dirty-dancing, especially when I'm drunk, which I was. But when the girl is up to my hip and looks about 14, I'm not that keen. Well, these cute little Asian girls were very keen on being sandwhiched inbetween me, Julian AND Rob, and it was probably the first time I was actually embarrassed by the attention from a girl.

We head back outside where we start talking about our trip. I mention the word Amsterdam and have a cute girl…no, women!...inturrupt me saying how she was from Amsterdam. We spoke for a bit and ended up on the dancefloor – yada yada yada kissy kissy kissy. Her friend was very drunk and that ultimately ended up ruining by chances with this girl, but granted, she needed to take care of her friend. We were about to go back to the hotel when I told her I needed to go to the toilet first. She said she would go check on her friend while she waited and when I returned, her friend had passed out and I was informed that I wouldn't be getting lucky that night. Ultimately, if I had of just held my piss in till I got back to the hotel she wouldn't have gone to check on her friend and yeah. But, Rob eventually gave up on the Asian girls so atleast if I wasn't getting lucky, no one else was lol … fuck I'm a loser…

The next day was beach day. It was also the first time, in over 3 weeks in Europe, that we would get some real sun. We get on the train and head for beach. Once we get there, we find a spot and do the normal beach stuff, like you know, sunbake, go for a dip, check out the naked people 5 meters from us. Oh yeah, naked beach!

The beaches in Barcelona also have a lot of vendors that sell a lot of interesting things. Not saying anything else.

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Anyway, that night in the hotel we rip it up again (not just on the alcohol) and get ready for the night out. Jonny decided to join us this time round and it would deem to be a good decision as he ended up kissing a hot Swedish chick. The night was very massive indeed for me and Julian. That's all I'm saying about that. Some things I can say, some things I can't.

Pamplona

The next day was Running of the Bulls day. Our train was scheduled to leave at 12pm from Barcelona and arrive in Pamplona about 6pm. The train ride wasn't that bad and the trains were ok, and I slept most of it anyway. Once we arrive into Pamplona we hop into a cab and go to our hotel, Maisanneave (or something along those lines). It was a nice hotel a little old and aged. Still good though. We looked as though we were the youngest people staying there though, as well as the only English speaking people.

Rob decided to stay in for the night as he was recovering from 3 weeks of partying. Weak bastard. The four of us head out into the streets, buy our Running of the Bulls attire, which consisted of white and red and all of which can be bought on the street.



I have to say that Pamplona is absolutely wild. It's filthy, dirty, crazy and never sleeps during this festival. It's nasty. But oh so good. It's a place that's either too wild for you or perfectly wild for you, and I was in heaven.



The night wasn't that big as we wanted to wake up early for the race. We got to bed about 1am and woke up at about 6:30 for the running. I have to say, this whole thing is not for the light hearted. You're crushed in with a lot of drunk Spanish men and there aren't nearly as many tourists as you'd expect. A lot of them don't shower and just stay out for days on end without sleep, so they get very nasty and rough.

With the running, the ring the bell when it's time and you run in "stages". A long street is blocked off and when you run you run up until the baracade. You can choose to stay behind and wait for the Bulls, which I'll do the next time I go, but I wasn't as brave this time round. You run about 100 meters five times before you get to the stadium and the bulls are released. We pretty much waited right up until the bulls were running the final stretch, whe we bolted in and jumped the fence. The stadium is packed to the brim of about 20,000 people and it's an amazing feeling. Julian decided to stay in the ring and ended up slapping a bull in the process.

After the amazing run, we head back to the hotel for breakfast and a sleep. Me, Rob, and Julian wake up at about 5pm because we had tickets to the bull fighting. We head down and find out that Rob and Jules were sitting together, but I was by myself. That ended yup working out for the best, as I was sitting with a bunch of cute, young Spanish girls and there guy friends, and the boys were sitting with rich folk.

The bull fighting is more about getting smashed and chanting rather than watching bulls getting slaughtered. As soon as they found out I was Australia, they were given me Sangria till my hearts content and throwing red wine all over me. It was awesome.

By 8pm, when it all finished up, I was abolsutely gone off my face. Earlier in the day we mentioned how cool it would be if we bumped into Jai and some of the other boys who did the Contiki with us. On the way back to the hotel we ended up doing just that, and they ended up coming back to our hotel to "party" with us.

That night, which was to be my last real night out with the boys, was enourmous. Julian, Vespa and Jonny stayed in for the night, but me and Rob, tanked from the bull fighting and everything else, absolutely mauled Pamplona. We went though about 5 clubs, drank about 14,000 litres of Sangria and kissed randoms. Awesome night.

Rob ended up going home about 2am but I decided to stay out at a club as I had met a group of Spaniads who were pretty cool. I ended up hooking up with one of the girls, but I was shocked to find out that her brother wanted me. He wouldn't leave my side and kept touching my neck, and even at 6am when I was walking back to the hotel, he followed me all the way back, about 10 meters behind me the whole time.

The next day just consisted of getting packed up, getting on the train, the awful 6 hour train ride home, checking back into the Regina, having some Chinese food, sleeping, Julian getting tanked by himself and me being depressed that my time with the boys was over. Little did I know that Italy and Ibiza with my cousins would just as, if not crazier, then the 3 weeks I had just partied for.

More coming soon….

This blog entry is to give a quick look through where I've been, as well as tell you quickly what I liked about it, what I did (in short) and whether or not I think it's worth it for everyone to go there at least once in their lives!

Where I've Been


London
Amsterdam
Berlin
Munich
Prague
Austrian Tyrol
Venice
Rome
Florence
Calabria
Swiss Alps
Paris
Barcelona
Pamplona
Ibiza

What I thought..



London - This is a tough one. I loved this city. It has a buzz about it and never sleeps. At one end of the spectrum, it pretty much proves every single stereotype imaginable about the Brits. On the other end, it's very cosmopolitan and fast-paced; it's one of the biggest, busiest and best cities in the world!

Firstly, take in the sites when you get there. Get onto one of those busses (I didn't, but do it anyway, it looks convinient) and take the whole city in. See the major things but don't go over board.

Secondly, go get some fish n chips.

Thirdly, at a really inappropriate time of the day (like, say, 10am or 3:30pm), walk into a pub and get a pint of beer. Then, walk out with it!

Forthly, shop!

Fifthly, see a show.

Sixthly, get on that underground rail system (take note, Connex)

Seventhly, impersonate the "Changing of the Guards"

Eightly, eat the chips from Burger King (you'll know why when you do it...)

Amsterdam - Well, I guess this is an easy one. But before I say it, I'm going to come out and say that Amsterdam on it's own is a nice city. It is in Holland after all. I didn't see much of the country side or do the optional excursions that took us there, but in some areas of the city where the canals ran through, it was beautiful.

Now, when you go to Amsterdam, get stoned, go to the Red Light District, eat chips with mayonaise and just get shit faced. This is for both men and women. The city itself is so liberal, rough, tough, fun and different that it would be a major injustice to your time there if you don't take in everything it's famous (or infamous) for.

Berlin - Don't do a fucking tour of this city. It's depressing, long and boring. It's interesting at the start, but after an hour of listening to some guy who knows far too much about one city is so frustrating you'll want to eat his eyes.

Do your own thing. This city is amazing. The history here, while in itself is quite unimaginable and sad, is worth learning about and seeing first hand. Berlin is still recovering, and that isn't most recognisable through the countless number of construction going on, but rather the attitudes of the people; everyone there still seems to be hurting.

I recommend making a trip to Hitler's bunker. That spot will no doubt make you truly know how the German's feel about the man now. It was quite a shock.

Also, eat some fucking pork. It's everywhere. And it's great! It's like a national dish.

Prague - Prague is stunning. I was there while it was pissing down rain but still, the city is stunning, both in its buildings and its people. Unfortuantly, expect some BAD customer service wherever you go and one wacky currency (they go by the Czech Crown, not the Euro). But beyond that, amazingly cheap shopping, decent nightlife, hot people, casino's, and overall a beautiful city that is untouched by war.

Munich - Prettier than Berlin and more fashionable. A lot of rich people (lol) but some good shopping, lots of beer, nice restaurants and a very "Melbourne" city. Places like Munich, Prague and Paris really show you were Melbourne got a lot of its looks from. Now I understand what "Paris end of Collins St" means.

PS. If you go here on a Contiki, dear god, do the Beer Hall....my god that was a big night.

Austrian Tyrol - Not a city, or hardly a town, but rather a sky region devided into really small towns on the edge of the mountains. Probably better during the sky season but good for bike riding and fishing. Stunning scenery. A beautiful place.

Venice - Some of you are going to hate me, but I loathed Venice. It stunk, it was falling apart and it was one of the most touristy places we went too. Firstly, if you want to see a city with canals running through it, go to Amsterdam; it's cleaner (yes, cleaner), nicer and there's more to do. Venice is practically Fawkner in Italy. Not only that, but there are more canals in Amsterdam. It smells and the shopping is meh. But my god, the food....

Rome - I loved Rome. I didn't so much the first time I went there, mainly because I was with Contiki and didn't see enough, but the 2nd time I went I really took the city in. I saw everything, did the nightlife and ate a shit load. I shopped till I dropped (shopping is amazing), the women are all hot (so are the men) and, like London, it never really sleeps. It has a buzz.

Unfortuantly, like Venice (and the rest of Italy), the city is falling apart. Yeah, it's old, but the natural conception from both myself and my Auntie who lives down south (she moved down south 10 years ago to be with her "soul mate") is that Italians are too lazy and they don't try and fix something until it's unfixable, ala. The Colesseum. It's unfortuante, because the city itself is amazing. Watch the traffic though. Italians are the world's best drivers and by "best drivers" I mean they can drive 100 km'h down a one way street without even a worry in their eye.

Florence - All I can say about this place is that it's one of the nicer cities in Italy. Nothing else. Don't know the food, shopping, people or anything else. Just wasn't there long enough.

Calabria - Hate it, Hate it, Hate it, Hate it. If you have family down there, get in and get out. Don't stay any more than 5 days. It's third-world down there. They all bitch and whine, you can't fart without offending someone and they live to eat. Sounds all fun and good but I now understand why most migrants are from the south of Italy; it's an utter shit hole. The beaches are great though.

Oh, and the food is pretty fucking good too. But to back up my claim, I'm not the only one who thinks the south is fucked up. Everyone up north thinks south's are backwards; they fuckin are...

Swiss Alps - One of the most beautiful places on the planet. Absolutely stunning. Plus, got to go to the snow during Summer. How grand!

Paris - Ah, the city of lights! And I didn't see it at night so I could stay at the bar and pick up! Ah. In all honesty, Paris is the most obvious resemblance to Melbourne and if you want proof that Melbourne has a strong European influence, go there. On top of that, it's the most visited city in the world by tourists and doesn't feel at all touristy; everyone blends in! So much to see and do, but don't go to the Subway near the Eiffel Tower... :S

Barcelona - Ahhhh, Barcelona. Buzzing city. Goes to sleep at 8pm, wakes back up again at 1am and then the night begins! And for you people who like to party, the beach is your oyster; the vender's sell a lot of interesting things...

Pamplona - When I saw this city, it was shut down. At the same time, it was never sleeping and jammin'. Locals leave for the Running of the Bulls Festival (aka. San Fermin) and tourists (mostly Spaniad's) come in to run, drink, slaughter and repeat the process over for 7 days. The dirtiest place we went to, but also the most rockin. It was so rough, dirty, hard and rockin that you either want to leave as soon as you get there, or never want to leave. I never wanted to leave...

Ibiza - I haven't gotten to this point in my blog yet (same as with Barcelona and Pamplona), but Ibiza holds a special place in my heart. I didn't go with my boys, but rather my sleezy, 17 year old Italian cousin who didn't speak English as well as his 4 Italian mates. 5 nights of, not wildness, but unimaginable wrong scary terrible hard rough tough exhausting things. I fucking loved it!


Where to go...
I'm going to grade each city from A-F, with A-B meaning you should go, C meaning it's up to you but I recommend, D-E meaning I recommend to miss it and F meaning stay the fuck away!

London - A
Amsterdam - C
Berlin - B
Prague - B
Munich - C
Austria - A-
Venice - D-
Rome - B-
Florence - C
Calabria - F-
Barcelona - A
Pamplona - C
Ibiza - A+
Swiss Alps - A-
Paris - A+



Coming Soon - Barcelona, Pamplona & Ibiza!

Ok, so when we booked the Contiki I knew a few things. First, it was practically a party trip with sight-seeing on the side. That's all fair and good because we went to Europe and we wanted to do both. We partied pretty hard so on that side of things, it was good.

I'm writing this partially for people who are thinking of going on a Contiki. Now, I can't recommend it but I also can't disapprove it. Contiki is just a big bag of everything while also providing you with nothing. I know that sounds strange, but some people are going to hate it and some people are going to love it.

I liked it. I say that now. I hated it and that's when I was actually doing it. One thing you've got to be prepared for is being practically treated like a High School student. There are rules and expectations and because you're in a foreing land, you subconciously think that you can do whatever the fuck you want, but the natural thing is to do what is told by the person who knows where they are.

One thing I absolutely hated was the fact that we were treated like a bunch of money-weilding morons who had no taste. You have to be prepared for some obvious and annoying marketing tactics; they WILL try and sell you stuff, they WILL encourage you to go to shit places that they have an investment in and they WILL make you feel as though there isn't anywhere else to go out except the campsite and hotel bars.

They do all of that pretty well, especially considering that A: they call a factory shop tour where all they talk about is the prices of their products a "Factory Visit" and B: All of the hotels and campsites are about a 30-40 Euro cab ride out of town so you're stuck at the bar that Contiki runs and makes a shit load of money off.

Contiki can either be really, really dirty, or decent, at best. You've got to undestand that you're paying for a budget tour so don't complain about the accomodation. Firstly, your travel agent should have warned you and secondly if you can't stay in anything less than 5-star hotels, DON'T EVEN CONSIDER A CONTIKI, even the "hotel" tours.

Now, when you visit Europe you don't go just to party. I know that sounds strange coming from me but it's Europe; you have to see everything. There is so much history and amazing places that it would be a major injustice to yourself and a bad showing of character if you don't do as much sightseeing as you can. We destroyed it every fucking night, no doubt about that, but we were also up every morning at 7am (except Rome where we slept in; we were coming back with our parents so we took advantage of the rest time) to get on the bus and go into town.

That's another thing, be prepared to get up at the crack of dawn. I can tell you, drinking all night and barely sleeping, then lugging your luggage to a bus and riding for 6-10 hours is HELL. You best learn how to sleep on a bus because for me, I caught up on all of my sleep on it whereas my mates couldn't sleep on it so they struggled. But yeah, be fully prepared for that. And believe me, if you miss the bus, be prepared to make your own arrangements; they won't wait for you.

If you're going to do a Contiki I can't stress one thing enough; be open-minded and try new things. We had people on our tour who either hated it and didn't want to be there or were too snobby and clean to be there. I know that's harsh, but it brings down the attitude of the whole bus and if you can't laugh at a drunken yobbo who's making a fool of himself what can you laugh at. One guy on a bus said it perfectly; some people on this bus have the personality of a snail and snails are about as bland and boring as a glass of water at a poker match.Have fun, take risks, laugh and never, ever, ever judge someone because you think they're not cool enough because you'll be the one at the end of the day with no friends. When it Rome, do as the Roman's do. If you can't take that saying to heart, don't do a Contiki.

With the Optional Tours, it's kind of a mixed bag. Most of the time you'll being getting your own lunch but breakfest is normally provided and so is dinner but every now and then they'll be an option for a restaurant dinner. At the start of the tour your tour manager will come around with a sheet of all the optional tours and you click which one you have to do, all of which are at an extra price which you have to pay for. The dinner's, as a meal, are shocking. And that's being nice. I would say to steer clear, but they are all mostly a good chance to drink with everyone and have a good laugh around a table. Perhaps do half of them and miss the rest. If you are going to the Swiss Alps or Austria, do ALL of the optionals; they are all amazing. Overall, apart from the dinners, it's wise to do all of them as they're mostly all great fun, especially if the whole tour does it. Be prepared to pay an extra 200-400 Euro though.

Now I'm going to get onto the whole party-scene. It can get very, very wild. Actually, it will. Some places are better than others, but any place where there are other Contiki tours expect a big night. There are some cities (like Prague, Rome, Florence and a few others) that if you stay on the campsites, you should definetly head into the city and do a club crawl on your own. It's good to get away from Contiki some nights. In some places, especially Amsterdam, there are drugs everywhere. I'll be honest and say that, unless you're in Amsterdam or Spain, steer clear of drug dealers. In saying that, only smoke in Amsterdam. Do not touch any of the stuff on the street. In Spain, be prepared; you can get anything, anywhere. And for very, very cheap. I know this might be a shock to some of you, but I'm being honest and up front. If you want to take drugs while you're over there, it's in ready supply, believe me. All you need to do in Barcelona and Ibiza is lie on the beach and it comes to you. For other places, don't even bother. Firstly, in places like Germany and Italy, you don't want to get caught there, and secondly, it's not worth it in the long run. In other words, while on Contiki, don't do drugs. I know that sounds preachy, but don't risk it. If your bag gets randomly searched at a border-crossing and you have even the slightest thing, be prepared for the worst. It's not worth it. However, if you're going to do stuff, don't take it anywhere. Buy it and do it. Simple.

Just some tips for Amsterdam.

Be open-minded here. It can get rough and dirty but don't be a dumb tourists and either complain about or laugh at their customs. If you're going to smoke, DON'T go to the Grasshopper which is where Contiki tells you to go. Find a nice, quiet "cafe", walk in, be polite and look around before you ask. If it's obvious that they sell it, don't ask if they do; they'll say no and direct you somewhere else. It's not that they hate tourists, but hate dumb ones. Also, don't go in massive groups. I think we made the mistake of going in a group of 6. No more than 3 so that you can be comfortable and relax and get stonned without standing out. If you've never smoked before, don't do the cookies. Firstly, they only taste like normal cakes, and secondly, they have a harder effect than a joint does so stick to smoking for your first time.


Overall, Contiki is good for a few things; drinking, picking up, meeting new people and travelling Europe. It has its downfalls, but if you can be open-minded, try most things, and laugh and always smile you'll have a ball. Be prepared to stay in scum (you literally get what you pay for) and just fucking maul it!

coming soon...ESPANIA!

Day 17 - Swiss Alps

Before heading off to our campsite in the beautiful Swiss Alps, we made a pit stop to do some white-water rafting (for anyone who had picked it as an optional excursion). We all had picked it so we all ended up outside, in cold weather, trying to squeeze into tiny swimsuits that god only knows had been worn a hell of a lot of times.

Firstly I'll say that I never expected to, throughout the whole trip, to do one single ounce of work; actual work. That even included getting the bags off the bus and being a "cook-ie" for dinner at the campsites. I put myself down as a bag guy but never did it; like I said, I didn't go on holiday to be treated like a fucking high school student on a school camp.

Well, I may have jumped over the bus and cooking duties, but this rafter "excursion" would include lifting a 300kg+ raft. Now, for some, this would have been an easy task, especially considering most rafts had more guys than girls. Well, considering that the guys to girls ratio was even on our bus, there was going to be one raft that had more girls, so therefore, I was stuck practically lifting this raft all by my fucking self. No offence to the girls out there. And to make matters worse, because of numbers, we actually had less people than the other rafts. So, we had a majority of girls and less people to lift the raft. I struggled to say the least.

Once we got the fucking rafts into the water we all jumped in and the water was so cold my penis swiped his card and called it day. I swear to fucking god, if it wasn't for those suits, we all would of frozen. We were in the Swiss Alps, DURING SUMMER, and it was freezing. I don't even want to imagine what it felt like during winter.

The whole rafting experience was less than impressive. I expected non-stop waves and hardcore twists and turns and bumps, but it was practically just a boat ride along the river with the one or two rips that caused some minor roughness. The guy said it was a "level 3" and that level 5 was the worst and impossible to raft. Well, if no one did 5 and 4 was the one for the professionals, it really mustn't be that fucking hard to be a pro at this thing.

Once we hit the end of the rafting "experience" we all got off and had a shower in the provided bath area. After that we all got something to eat and Julian played some volleyball with some girls on the tour that would turn out to be an enjoyable ten or so minutes.

We get onto the bus and head to our campsite in the Swiss Alps. As we arrive, we are greeted once again by Contiki campsite workers who are over-enthusiastic and hide the fact that they live in the middle of fucking nowhere with nothing to do but drink and sleep with randoms. I know that sounds glorious, but it can only be good for so long; I was over doing that after 17 days.

Our dinner that night was shit (some cheese dipping thing that tasted like a dead dogs bum hole) and we all got prepared for a night at the "really, really good bar with good shots". The bar was behind the laundry and our group were the only ones there. Now, I didn't really care about this, but don't fucking lie and say the bar is great. I mean, there's nowhere else to go so we're gonna go there anyway so don't fucking lie and say the bar is great.

The music was supplied by US (via rob's ipod) and we all got drunk. Woopty fucking doodle doodle do.

Day 18 - Swiss Alps

Today was a day I was looking forward to. We were heading up the mountains to the snow. It's summer and we don't get snow in Melbourne during winter so it was going to be quite the experience. I still get the "omg is that snow?" when I show people my video's from the day.

Getting up the mountain took about two hours on a couple of trains which was ok because we all got some good footage and pics of the scenery which was breathtaking to say the least.

Once we got up and all checked into the place we got some free time on the mountain to undertake some of the activities, like the ice castle (which was cool but not as spectacular as the Contiki people made out to be; what else is new) and tobogganing (however you spell it) down the mountain. We made snowballs, threw snow at each other (both the people we like to tease them and the people we hate to piss them off) and then did some sliding down the hills like 5 year olds.

After a few hours we headed back down the mountain which took so long I wanted to kill myself, and myself, Jonny, Julian and two American's on our tour Jess and Steph all had some nice bitching and bagging sessions on the way down.

That night was probably one of the more enjoyable at the campsites. Pretty much all of us got smashed in the room hallway while playing drinking games. Pretty much just sex drinking games, but drinking games nonetheless. To put it simply, a few of us, including myself, probably did some self-incriminating without even knowing it. I had to leave the game just so has not to look like a freak. The game entailed people saying they hadn't undertaken a particular sex act and anyone that had had to drink. It got pretty ugly, pretty fast. Me, Jonny, Rob, Jai and Dazza pretty much went through 3 bottles of vodka in ten minutes. Wrong...just wrong!

I remember one thing in particular about this whole session. I've mentioned a few times about how Contiki is just a real big marketing scam. Well, I saw something while we were sitting in the circle that made me laugh. While we were playing, with our tour guide also involved, one of the Contiki campsite worked came upstairs to see what everyone was doing and why no one was in the bar. He saw us all drinking upstairs and looked over to Susie, our tour guide, and gave her a greasy and one of those "so what's going on here..." look. Susie kind of looked away, either scared or not caring, but my guess is that she was a little worried. She had tried a few times to persuade us to go down to the bar and drink, but we all denied and drank upstairs. I've got no doubt that she got a spray for not pushing us into the bar to buy drinks that night.

We all ended up going down their eventually and again, it was just us, we got the ipod going and all got drunk on the edge of the Swiss Alps. Once again, it was just amazingly beautiful there.

Day 19 - Paris

NOTE: I'm sorry to the people on tour who probably don't want me speaking about certain things, but this was the last day on tour and I'm not holding anything back. I won't name names, but I will name occurrences and I really don't care. It's funny and good for people who weren't there.

After a long fucking drive through about 28 countries, we arrive in beautiful Paris. We had arrived into the city on the Monday and got some rather concerning news that The Louvre would be closed on Tuesday; it's weekly closing day. For anyone who doesn't know, that's the museum that has the Mona Lisa.

After a few people complained and bitched to Susie, she decided to make a detour and made some calls so that we could get a quick tour of the city and make a stop over at the museum which normally closed at 9pm. We arrive there, all excited about it, only to find out that it had shut early for renovations. This pretty much summed up Contiki in a nutshell; money hungry, marketing scumbags that get you in and out of places while making sure you drink at their bars. How the fuck could The Louvre not be included in a trip to Paris? Fucking morons.

Anyhow, to make it up to us, Susie (our tour guide) was going to take us to a chocolate shop that was supposed to have the best hot chocolate in Paris and possibly even Europe. We walk for a good 30 minutes only to get there and see that that is also fucking close. We all laugh, if only to make Susie feel better cause she had tears in her eyes, but we (at least I) were all cursing her for not being more organised. We walked back and stopped at Maccas to get a feed, although it took 15 minutes to get food.

We arrive into our campsite for the 2 nights with myself, Jonny, Rob and Vespa all in one cabin and Julian somewhere else.

We all showered and dressed and whatever and got a chance to eat some snails. Julian and everyone else mostly had some but I declined. Fuck that. We had some dinner and got the typical "the bar is here is really good" speech from the Contiki staff.

Once again, we all declined to go into Paris with some of the boys at night, which was a fucking stupid idea considering Paris is meant to be the "city of lights" and we all stayed at the campsite bar to drink and pick up.

It was dead up until about 1am when another Contiki who had just done the whole "Moulin rouge and dinner" thing arrived back. Rob and I were in heaven because there were literally drunk girls everywhere. I met someone and we talked for a bit and yada yada yada. Nothing happened, mainly because she was a nice girl (not to say girls who hook up with randoms aren't nice!!) but I ended up going to bed like I had most of the other nights; unlucky. (lol)

Day 20 - Paris

The next day we had two choices; either head into Paris early (at like fucking 7am) or sleep in and make your own way there. You had to bring your clothes and leave them on the bus because we were being taken somewhere after the day to get changed for our dinner and Moulin rouge; we weren't going back to the campsite. We all slept in (meaning all 5 of us) and luckily bumped into Bazza and Susie on the way back from taking the early-rises into town. We dropped our clothes into the bus, which was good cause we didn't need to lug them around.

We get into Paris and myself, Jonny and Rob had told Julian and Vespa to wait at the fucking main church cause we didn't have a map. We get there, wait, and they never show up. So, for the time being, we were up shit creek in Paris. Yes, they have shit creeks in Paris.

We decide to get some food and walk into a Subway. Now, close your eyes for a second and imagine a big pile of dog shit. Then, imagine cow shit. Now, mix the two together. Then, walk into a Subway restaurant and throw it all of the walls and food. Can you imagine that? That's how dirty this Subway was. Firstly, Rob and I waited 20 minutes to get served even though 4 people were in front of us, and by the time we got to the front I'd had enough and persuaded him to leave.

It would be a wise move because would find an American-ised restaurant with hamburgers. We all downed some hardcore meat (but the mustard was so strong it made me gag and cry) and started to do some site seeing. Of course, without a map, we got lost, and decided to walk to the Eiffel Tower. Now, with a tower that big, it looks close from anywhere. Well, let me tell you, we might as well have been in Melbourne cause we walked at least 2 hours towards the fucking thing and never ended up there. I was happy with photos from a distance of the thing. In fact, I hate the Eiffel Tower. Fuck it. Tall piece of shit. Can't even walk there.

While we were walking there we bump into some random Aussies asking for directions, they help us, and Jonny would later bump into them at the campsite bar later that night.

After walking around a bit more and some window shopping (as well as paying 19 Euro for two cokes just so we could use the bathroom) we started trying to find where the bus was picking us up.

We ended up walking around like retards for an hour and kept contemplating what life would be like living in Paris cause we were about to be left there. We didn't have the campsite details and none of us had anyone's working mobile phone.

Finally, we find the group and are driven to the The Louvre car park to get changed for dinner and show.

Dinner was, once again, a piece of shit, but we all OD'd on red wine and photos and eyed everyone we were gonna try and hook up with that night. I also happened to bump into the girl I'd spoken to the night before at the same restaurant. Cool!!

After dinner we all head outside where I'm raped by Danielle, this annoying American girl who everyone hated. She was so desperate that it made me sick. I know that's harsh, but she said to others on the tour that she wanted to hook up with someone, and that's all fair and good, but when you literally throw yourself at someone, you really need to look at yourself in the mirror; you made no friends girl.

We made our way to the strip show near Moulin Rogue where we were treated to bottles of white wine. Jai, my main man from Prague, passed out upstairs and I was set the task of helping him downstairs so as not to have him kicked out. Funny kid. Some people on our tour had to be shut up, and me and Carmello went through about four bottles of wine. The show was great and enjoyable and Jonny and myself had quite the interesting interaction with a wonderful girl on tour that shall remain nameless. We shared details and hands and sexual tensions and started off what would be a very fun night.

We head back to the campsite on a semi-public bus with other Contiki people and we're all absolutely smashed off our faces. We get back and all head straight back to the bar. There, we all drink again and everyone is trying to hook up with everyone. As per usual, everyone eyes someone else on their tour but the person I ended up hooking up with was person I was also intimidated by only an hour or so before. It was fun though and she's a wonderful person! Hope she knows that ;)

Jonny (sorry for naming names) and someone else from our tour were going for it (as they had been most of the tour, sly bastards!) in our room so once I was rejected entry I was invited into a cabin for some sensual and pleasurable "spooning" with another girl on tour. We had some really nice people on our bus!

After about 20 minutes (lol) I leave that cabin and head into the central area between all the cabins. There, is the girl I met the night before as well as Dazza. They were having a nice chat and when Dazza went to bed, the both of us got to know each other a little better.

Jonny was done and Vespa and Rob were sleeping and I ended up in the communal shower's trying to get to know someone while some random French guys spoke very loudly in the room next door.

I finally got to bed without being yanked by someone else and at 4am and 3 separate meetings, I had my most eventual, but far from my proudest night. My apologies to two very kind and sweet girls! But, it's all for fun! When in Rome.


coming soon...My Final Thoughts on Contiki.

Day 16 - Florence

We left Rome this morning and headed into Florence to meet back up with Baz and ditch our loser of a replacement bus driver. The ride went quickly as I slept most of it (as per!) and we arrived into beautiful Florence at about 5pm. The bus was leaving the campsite at 6 so we all had to go to our cabins, get changed and be back at the bus in an hour.

All 5 of us were in one of the nicer cabins we stayed in while there and Vespa pretty much destroyed the place with clothes all over within the first 10 minutes. The bathroom was really nice as well considering we were staying in a cabin and it was the nicest of the three campsites in Florence.

While waiting for the bus and everyone else, Julian and Steve (aka Spanner, the loser of the group lol) got into a nice exchange of words. Quite the entertainment watch.

This place didn't have a "rockin" bar, but instead Contiki must of had its connection with Space nightclub in the city because our tour guide kept mentioning it on the way to our "Tuscan" dinner.
We arrive to the restaurant and discover that, luckily, it is air conditioned.

Our meal was craptacular once again but the whole table we were on destroyed about 18 bottles of red and stole bread from other tables.

Also, being the cheeky little buggers that we are, we all conjured up a plan to embarrass Courtney. Rob got up on his chair and started making a speech about a girl he loved dearly and whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and that it was her 21st birthday. What made it ever so special was that Courtney was looking around trying to figure out who it was. The look on her face when Rob said her name was unforgetful.

After the shit dinner we walked to the club because it was supposed to be walking distance. Instead, it was a good 30 minutes walk and by the time we got there everyone wanted to go home. After some word exchanges between people, a few of us went inside. The club would turn out to be an American club in an Italian city and I actually saw 2 people I knew from Melbourne. It was more touristy than a tour bus full of tourists. What was really strange though was the drink system. You were given a card on entry and used it to get all of your drinks. Once you leave, you get the card swiped and pay it off, and you can't leave until you hand your card back. Very, very stupid.

At the end of it all we were all outside waiting for a cab. Julian went with some of the girls on the tour and Rob and I decided to get our own cab. We walk and walk without any luck and soon we were practically on the other end of the city. We enter a McDonald's and go on to stuff our faces with Maccas, not before Rob asks the cashier "Do I take away?" in Italian.

Finally, after urinating on a very old building and walking for almost 2 hours, we get a cab, without truely knowing where we are going, and head back to the campsite. This would turn out to be one of the more interesting and draining nights on tour.

It had a shit dinner, a funny moment, a crap club and a long path home. But atleast there was Maccas at the end of it...

Day 14 - Rome

We arrived into Rome after dropping off Bazza (our bus driver) in Florence for his 2 days off. Because of Euro laws, bus drivers can only driver for a certain amount of time of a certain amount of days, so we were going to meet back up with him in Firenze. How new bus driver, who I think's name was Paul, was a strange character. He had no idea how to drive a bus and considering how small and unko the roads are in Rome, it took him 20 minutes just to get into the campsite drive way; what a poor kid.

The Rome campsite was a little nicer than the Venice one but not as jamming. Plus, the whole thing was built on a fucking hill so we all lost 10 kilos walking up and down to get to the bar and other facilities. And of course, we were at the bottom of the hill (Thank you very much, Contiki).

That night we headed into Rome for a walk-around dinner and free time. We got a short guided tour on the bus and myself, Rob, Jonny, Craig, Steph and someone else (forgot who it was) had some dinner at a crappy restaurant. As we left, us three boys strolled into a random bar and did a shot of Havanah Club; that went down tough.

The Camp Contiki workers promised that the bar was fantastic and always jamming, so, for the first night we all stayed in. We would soon discover that the place was dead and it was practically just our contiki in the bar with a few other randoms.

Day 15 - Rome

The next morning, Rob and myself slept in, as well as a few other of the boys on the tour, and skipped the guided tour of Rome. Rob and I were going later on with our families anyway so it didn't matter and I was waiting to see the Vatican with my mum. Plus, I wasn't too keen on getting up at 7am to line up in 40 degree heat.

We woke up and the 5 of us called a cab. We got into Rome and ate a terrible "italian" restaurant that actually consisted of microwaved, pre-made meals.

We met up with the rest of the group for another tour of the city which turned out to be pretty cool. It was too hot to listen to the walking guide and Jai and myself were downing Cruiser's anyway; we never fucking stopped drinking.

Finally, we got to the end at the Collisium and all seperated, some taking in the city, others heading back to the campsite. Myself and the boys headed back on the train and hit the pool at the campsite which was great. Our new bus driver was there sunbaking and he was a freak. Don't know why but he just was.

That night the Contiki people organised some games and the Contiki groups at the camp all competed against each other. By the end of it we were all over it and decided to head to the "rocking" bar that would soon turn out to be just as shit as the night before.

Me, Rob and Jonny all rejected an offer by Julian and Vespa to join them in a trip into Rome at night, and according to them it was wonderful. I regret that to this day and it would have been great to see Rome at night. Instead, I opted to stay at the camp at the shitty bar.

What made matters worse what that the girl I was trying to pick up ended up hooking up with Mr. I-don't-have-a-personality-and-im-a-wrestler (some Canadian dude on our tour) and I forgot his name so fuck him. He almost missed the bus the next morning and I was preying that he did, but he showed up just on time.

never once expected Chris Judd to pull on the MFC jumper next year. Although he said many times that "money was not a factor", I couldn't help but consider his business aspirations in fashionable, cosmpolitan Melbourne. Along with his gorgeous partner in Rebecca Twigley, Chris Judd, quietly, strongly considered a life after football; what would it consist of and where would he be?

Chris Judd is the Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, Theiry Henry of AFL. There is no doubt about that. He is easily the greatest player of the past 10 years and would be an easy induction into the Hall of Fame if he retired today. He is, actually correction, was, one of the most beloved and fancied players in the league; people paid to see this guy play.

Today, he become something new. He has lost some credibility. His "nice guy" personality that was perceived within the general football public is all but gone after his "decision" not to pick Melbourne as his club of choice. Such a personna would have been maintained had he chosen his boyhood team, the team he grew up idolising and loving; what person doesn't dream of leading their supported football club to glory? Today, he is a step closer to becoming a hypocrite. Because Christopher chose Carlton, it has demonished any credibility in his reasoning not to come "home" to the MFC. Carlton have had no success and won't have any in the immediate future, and while they have a consistent training schedule and ground, they don't have state of the art facilities. In two years time, ours will be like Collingwoods and they will continue to be train out of the moulding Optus Oval.

Today, Chris Judd is one step closer to one more special thing. Something that has been passed down through the ages, and many other legends of the game have had this tag beside their name. For the day Chris Judd chooses Carlton, he will no longer be the player everybody wants to watch, but rather the player everybody wants to beat. He will no longer be "that cute guy" or "the guy with that girlfriend", but rather "that good player for Carlton."

Today will be the day Chris Judd becomes the most hated player in the AFL.

I'm not angry that he hasn't chosen Melbourne. Like I said before, I never believed it to be so. But I'm disappointed and insulted. Soon, Melbourne will be a force and he could have been a part of it. Today, as has been said before, is today and tomorrow is another day. As I'm sitting here writing this, I'm looking up at a little framed photo above my pool sticks. It's a photo of the 1900 MFC Premiership Side. There were no Judd's in that team. No Goodes'or Abletts. But rather players who played football to play football. They didn't care about what they had or where they trained. They played for the jumper and for each other. It's just not the same anymore. Chris Judd loves the MFC still, he just convinces himself that he doesn't. And today, he ended a relationship that lasted even through his WCE years. And I will be damned if he ever steps foot into a Melbourne facility, as a player, coach or trainer. For today, he become a life-long enemy.

PS. What a tool. Says he doesnt want Melbourne cause of their facilities, then picks Carlton. Says he wants success, then picks Carlton. His g/f is a whore who needs a TV job, and he picks Carlton when she could have gone to 7 or 9. I hope she enjoys working at the ABC, the slag.


PSS. I will boo Chris Judd till my throat is sore when we play him. All you Carlton supporters, don't get excited. You're trading away a future superstar for a OP suffered. Hope you all die.

Day 11 - Austria

After a MASSIVE night before hand and a random sleep over in someone elses room, we all got up and prepared ourselves for the next city.  Thank christ we were leaving Munich cause, unlike the city which was stunning, the place we were staying in was worse than the poo hole of a dead kitten that had had its leg bittin off by a bird.  Yes, it was that friggin bad.  Plus, I was staying with this lawyer dude on our tour who was a bit of a drainer and always acted as though he was too mature for everything and everyone; I actually just think he hated us aussies.

I don't personally remember much of the bus ride to the Austrian Tyrol but I remember being very worried that I had no cash on me and that I would be screwed if there wasn't an ATM machine at the campsite.

We arrived at the campsite fairly early and I'd gotten little to no sleep on the bus and we were greeted by the typical, always-happy, always-trying-to-keep-an-open-mind-about-living-in-the-middle-of-nowhere Contiki Campsite workers.  While the place itself is stunning where we were and quite breathtaking, to live there would be near murder; it's purely a skiing town and it was summer so the place was practically deserted.  I have to be honest and day that the female Contiki workers looked like they were craving outside attention so badly and it would show even more that night at the, get this, "Pimps and Hoes Party."

Me and the boys had decided to do the bike ride tour and while it was fantastic and we got to see a hell of a lot of Austria and some awesome scenery, as well as a pretty good lunch, the pain in the ass I recieved from that bike ride made it that much less worth it.  We did get to watch an entertaining soccer match though between Rob, Dazza and the boys and Craig.

After that Julian and Vespa went fishing with some other guys on the Contiki while me, Jonny and Rob went back to the campsite and passed out.  I don't know where the fuck Jason (the "mature" lawyer dude) went but when he came back and rekon he went for a walk around the town; yeah...COOL DUDE!

That night was the great "Pimps and Hoes" party with another Contiki group; unfortuantly, the same group from Munich that had the guys who got arrested (can't remember if I mentioned that in my last blog, but yeah, a few guys from another tour got into a fight with some German's and got arrested.)

The night started off with a Battle of the Sexes which saw the girls cheat and win. 
Ok.  I forgot to say that Julian dressed up like a hoe that night.  It was probably the funniest thing on tour.  Check my photos; he's in there somewhere. 

The night was a blast and we all got wasted (and I also forgot to mention that I ended up having to walk into town to get money which was about 15 minutes away).  The girl who raped me in Munich was there and Rob and Vespa pointed at her and laughed (I didn't encourage them to do so).  They then directed their laughter at me.

Night ended up with me OD'ing in the hotel room and Jason *sighing* as I jumped up to my bunk bed.  I hope I woke the fucker up and he couldn't get back to sleep.  

Rob woke us up about 15 minutes later when he barged in demanding a condom; he'd hooked up with some slapper that was a regular at The Spot.  She would soon be the victim of on-bus taunting and stories for the 24 or so hours.

Day 12 - Venice

Woke up the next morning and all got prepared for Venice.  Rob began with his tales of the night before which would turn out to be quite enjoyable!

We arrived into Venice that evening, after I'd slept the whole way there, and discovered we were staying on an island.  So, yet again, we would be restricted to the Contiki/campsite bar if we wanted to party and partying in Venice was tough because of the inability to get back until the next morning.

We all checked into our rooms and discovered that they were practically sauna's with bed's; I almost died.  We then discovered that the entire campsite was airconditioning free, including the Contiki meal tent.  I cracked it and ate outside on the lawn and to vent and show my fury, left my plate on someone elses door step. 

Most of us did some much needed laundry after that and before long we were all drinking red wine outside out cabin's.  The site bar was dead at this time but it would soon start rocking and we were all there jammin'. 

This would be the night that Rob and I would meet a funny little girl called Carmen.  Funny because I would go on to be abused by this girl as a "tart".  Rob would end up kissing her.

Sleeping that night would involve about 15 of us getting our mattresses and sleeping outside on the floor because the rooms were about 50 degrees celcius.  Everyone was playing hand-sey's, but I won't name names cause there might be a few of them reading this :P

Day 13 - Venice

The next day we got some free time in Venice, not before being taken to two seriously fucking draining marketing scheme's by Contiki to sell us shit.  I remember yelling out "Who the fuck would by a glass statue for that much" before someone on our tour walked out saying "Look what I bought..."

Me and the boys and Adam and Carmelo from our contiki ate at a small, really woggy but nice Italian restaurant.  My gnocchi was great but the serving was way too small. 

We had our gondola ride that night and it's not quite as special as I thought it would be, considering there were 5 guys on our boat and not one girl.  Rob was the "lucky" one as he got to ride with Courtney and the other Adelaide girls (Don't hate me Courtney...)

Our last night in Venice was a MASSIVE one.  The site bar was absolutely rockin.  Rob got lucky (I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE WAS WILLING!!!!) and I cut Julian's lunch (sorry man.  but she was fuckin' smokin'!!!).

Julian would, from the next day forth, let me have it about "cutting his lunch" and I didn't hear the end of it for a while.  I loved it though; memories!


Day 14 - Rome - coming soon

So I went to Sydney on the weekend and I've come back less than impressed. Maybe it's because I'm so in love with Melbourne that I had convinced myself that it was a hole of a city before I even got there, but the truth is, the city seems to contain all of the scum and filth of Australia.

While we were staying in Kings Cross and yes I understand that that area is probably the worst to stay in while in the city, I'm disgusted, disgraced, embaressed, insulted and angry that a place like that exists in Australia. I've been to Surfer's Paradise and places in NT where the term "society" has no meaning, reference or use in everyday conversation, but I can comfortably say that KC is what brings the city of Sydney, and the country of Australia, down to a whole new level.

I recently arrived home from a trip to Europe. I visited three places in particular that, while I enjoyed them thoroughly, made me proud to be an Australian living down-under. They were Amsterdam, Ibiza and Pamplona. What made these places so unique and special was that they were so liberal and free that people didn't take advantage of the freedom and laws that were or weren't in place; you didn't walk around the place thinking you were going to get punched in the head for no reason. However, I left those places remembering how dirty they were and how wrong it was for the condition of some people.

I would never have thought a place like those would have existed in Australia. King's Cross is the scum of this country. With Sydney, you have Darling Habour and the CBD itself which, on their own, stand above anywhere else in Australia mainly due to scenery. However, KC is like having the Red Light District only a block away from the Vatican City; it just isn't right.

Australia is not a place for scum. It's the place for bogan's and drunken tomfullery, yes, but wherever there is a place where cocaine and pills are readily available on the street, hookers roam the sidewalk and strip clubs have free entry to ANYONE, you should really just walk, or fly, the other way.

Where you may ask? Well, I'll be the typical Melbournian and say Melbourne, but if you're really planning a trip to another city, I'd suggest Brisbane or Perth as well. What really gets on my nerve however is that people actually compare both Melbourne and Sydney. I hardly think it's a coincidence that every person I met from Sydney spoke about how Melbourne was a nicer, better city and why those from Brisbane and Perth, when comparing the two, prefer Melbourne.

It's unfortuante that tourists from other countries almost always land in Sydney first, as anyone who sees the Red Light...I mean King's Cross first hand will be surprised that such a place lives in beautiful, free, lawful Australia; I didn't see one police officer in almost 6+ hours in the area.

While on the topic of the whole "Red Light District" thing, it is shameful that prostitution is legal in this country. How governments can allow for such a thing, even in legalised brothals, is beyond me and how they can't see that it is a haven for drug dealers and baron's is also a joke. Furthermore, how can they justify allowing such a horrid trade to exist yet not allow the legalisation of a drug such as marijuana is highly hypocritical.

I don't smoke it. I did in Amsterdam but at home I don't take drugs. However, it seems to me that such a legalisation is an attempt at attracting both tourists and praises at the "liberal" direction of some of our devilish politicans. The way I look at it, legalising hash the same way Holland has, as well as imply a stricter stance on street prostitution, would clean up places like King's Cross and stop people from selling both drugs and themselves on the street. It will also attract more people to places like Sydney and Melbourne, and I can't help but wonder how a "cafe" bar would look and feel in many of the cosmo-ally's in melbourne cbd. The ones in Amsterdam mostly had a cool, laid-back, bar feel about them and if not for the porn shops all around the place, you could consider many of them to be cocktails bars at first glance. The reason they have that feel is because of the liberal and free attitude towards the drug and the "fashionable" direction the community has with it.

Moving on from my rant, Daft Punk are hitting Melbourne December 14th. Tickets go on sale soon and I'm smashing that for sure!

Onto Steve Carrell; I love the guy. The Office, Channel 10, Monday's, 10:30. Get onto it!

-end.

Day 9 - Prague

After about 2 hours sleep from the night before, Rob and Jonny came into the room Julian and I were sleeping in to discuss the happenings of the night before.

After about 30 minutes, we all got prepared for the day and headed downstaires to meet up with the rest of the crew. For the day we had two choices; 1 - Head into Prague early with Susie for a guided tour of the city or 2 - Go in late with Bazza (our tour buss driver) in cabs and meet up with the early group for a boat cruise and buffet lunch.

Of course being the lazy buggers we are, we all chose to head in late and pay our way into town. Once we get there we meet up with the rest of the tour and hop onto the little cruise ship that would be the destination of our lunch and boat tour/cruise.

After a terrible lunch that consisted of utter crap and service from two guys who seemed to be straight off the set of a European porno, we get a tour of the suit, via the river, from a hot Czech women who Rob insues on for the entire time she is talking. Anything she says that has any reference to sexuality or dating or kissing, Rob would say something. This made the tour enjoyable because really the women had no idea what the fuck she was on about and even mocked herself by saying she wasnt even a real tour guide.

After the tour we all get our free time and we decided to smash the Czech shopping. We first hit the expensive strip and I find myself a sexual pair of Ferragamo shoes that work out to be about $120 AUD. There was no way in hell I was going to pass this up because they would be $500 plus here in Melbourne. Anyway, I left them for the time being and we all went in a little further to check out the other shops. Lucky we did, because we would soon recieve the best customer service I have ever recieved in my life time. Well, I actually didnt get it, but Jonny did. It took a good 20 minutes to get served, and another 10 minutes to pay, have the items put in the bag and a receipt given. The guy behind the counter had as much interest in his work as I do for religion.

We all bought our own little shits and I got my shoes as well as an awesome Huge Boss shirt which I would go on to wear about 1,000 times throughout my time in Europe.

We all head back to the hotel and decided on dinner. Me and Rob walked down to a nice Pizza restaurant about 5 minutes walk from our hotel and got some food for ourselves and the boys and we brought the pizza back to our hotel where we would go on to devour them in only a matter of minutes.

That night would end up being quite the draining. Some of the boys on the contiki were heading into town and I was keen on doing so also, but wasn't confortable enough with the guys who were going and tried to convince Rob or Julian to come with. Neither of them were keen and we ended up staying in the hotel bar, perving on other contiki's who were coming and going through reception.

The night went on and so did the alcohol and eventually everyone had ventured off to bed. However, keen on doing a repeat of the night before, myself, Julian, Rob and Jai (the guy who I had had my encounter with the 1st night) stayed by the bar and decided to wait for the other contiki to arrive back at the hotel. Our cockiness and over-confidence would go unrewarded however and, after drinking till about 4am, all decided to call it quits. But yes, the four of us all drank from 10pm till 4am non-stop. Jai brought his Ipod and speakers downstairs and we even had our own little nightclub happening in the hotel bar; quite sad.

We went back to our rooms and soon Jai was walking about and down the corridor with his ipod speakers blasting and full volume. It was quite funny and he woke up our tour manager Susie at the same time.

Day 10 - Munich

Today we were headed back into Germany and to the nice city of Munich. On the way there we stopped in a cute little German city called Drusern (I have no idea how to spell it) where we all made place in a shopping center and got some lunch. It was raining outside so we really didnt get a chance to experience gorgeous little city in full which was unfortuante.

Before long we were on the bus again headed to Munich. Upon arrival we all moan and groan and the appearence of our hotel; it turned out to be quite the shit heap. It felt a lot like a concentration camp rather than a motel or hostel and was one of the worst places we would stay throughout our time in Europe.

I was staying with Julian, Craig (of the American couple) and Jason (an American lawyer from Orlando). The room was a crap heap and the shower didnt even work.

That night we were all headed to the optional excursion to a Belgium Beer Garden. Rob the moron had chose not to do this tour at the start of the contiki and, along with Craig and Steph who wanted some along time as a couple, were the only 3 not doing it. He thought he would be lame and silly, although it contridicts his stance on alcohol as we'd been drinking beer every night we'd been in Europe.

The beer garden ended up being a big piss-pot. The hall was filled with 3 different contiki groups and 2 other groups which consisted of old German people. The meal was terrible (I had the pork and it was literally just fat on a bone) but the beer was flowing and we all enjoyed a massive drink-up.

Drinking contests began soon after and Jonny the moron offered Ingre, a girl on a tour) a substantial (and I mean SUBSTANTIAL) amount of money if she could chug a whole litre of beer. She did, and Jonny paid the girl her large some of money. I would later hit Jonny and shake my head at disappointed and his stupid act of drunkiness.

Mark, a stupid arrogant American from LA, also made a complete dickhead of himself. While the beer was being handed out, he abused the poor waitress who could hardly speak English, purely because he "didn't drink beer."

Why someone would come to a beer hall when they don't drink beer is beyond me, but the fact that he said "Not everyone drinks beer," only made me think how much of a tool this dickhead was.

We all get back on the bus headed for the hotel bar and when we arrive, Rob and the American couple are shocked at the condition of all three contiki's. Rob shakes his head at the fact that he didn't come along but we all end up at the bar downstares where it gets pretty wild.

Some idiot's from another contiki who thought it would be cool to take their tops off, got into a fight with some German's and ended up in jail for the night, but it served them right as they were chock-head morons anyway who looked like arse-cracks.

Eventually the bar gets closed because of the fight and I end up struggling back to my hotel room. The rooms had possibly the worst key system in the world and I couldnt for the life of me get back into my fucking room. You'd think Jason the geek would open the door too investigate, but instead woke up and said "Who's there..." and then ignored my cries for him to open the door. Luckily, a cute little obese girl from Sydney came to my aid and decided to take advantage of me because I was drunk while her friends giggled and chuckled in the other beds in her room.

Yes...you read right...


-end

Day 11 Austria coming soon