Hup Holland; Hup

This weekend Grader and I have been sampling, so to say, the joys of Amsterdam. Team Welt Meistershcaft has temporarily gone in separate directions with Downo and Skinner fulfilling obligations by going to see Arnika in Paris.
It had been a pretty arduous couple of days on my part having had to go all the way down to Nürnberg to sell the ticket to USA-Ghana which involved about eight hours on the train and overwhelming numbers of unbelievably awful American supporters. I really wanted to extort them for all I could but as well as being unbearable they were also cheap. At least they didn’t win and inflict their shit-arse team on us for our Second Round game. The way they were carrying on while on the train and then especially the S-bahn to the stadium you would’ve thought that they had never experienced public transport, which unfortunately is probably true. Every morning on the New York subway was more crowded than that. As Grader’s host dad Manfred said we really should treat them the way they deserve and stop being so polite. Then after a final night in Köln I was thinking that on reaching Dedinghausen I’d be able to chill for at least a day but Grader had other plans and so after another quick lunch stop at the Menzes we were back on the train. Needless to say I was feeling pretty blah after two days of trains.
Another thing with Americans is that on any trip around Europe they all visit Amsterdam at some stage. And then all proceed to talk about it as if it’s some great revelation that you can smoke weed there and the peculiarities of the red light district. Grader was looking desperately for something to poke in his eye as a distraction on the way there when we were behind two such storytelling geniuses enlightening the Dutch people trapped opposite them about their escapades during their first time in the city.
Grader had been productive during his time in Washington hooking up a place for us to stay, this time being with the brother of one of Heather’s school friends. As described Javier is the nicest Ecuadorian you’re ever likely to meet and his place in Naardem-Bussum was very comfortable.
Amsterdam itself is beautiful set up as it is with concentric semi-circles of canals emanating from the Centraal Station making navigation relatively straightforward. Added to this is that most of the streets are tree lined and the buildings have things like anno. 1664 emblazoned on the front even though new bricks are required in the gaps as they fall away from each other. Along the canals are bountiful cafes perfect for whiling away a couple of hours sipping coffee and watching the water traffic go by.
Javier had told us that the first photo out of the station is always the giant bike rack to the right and he was correct. Copenhagen was just a warm up for this place and again the things are menaces. The silent killer, you step out to avoid an obstacle on the footpath and they’re there waiting to mow you down. At least you can hear cars, and unlike in Germany they don’t seem to believe in the bell here.
Very cool bikes, people look so much more at ease with the huge seats equipped with suspension and sitting upright. Also no ugly helmets disfiguring the appearance, here the cyclist has the advantage of both speed and some of the most solidly constructed bikes around. Especially if you have one of the box carriers on the front that Grader likes so much. Speaking of the condemned one he can’t see how Christchurch should be any different from these cities as it’s so flat and thinks that more people should be on the bike. So all of you need to make sure that he gets out there and starts leading by example. Even with a family it’s no obstacle to keep pedalling, you just invest in one of the ones with what is essentially a wooden box on the front instead of a wheel where children/groceries/tulips/clogs etc can be deposited.
We also managed to get some culture under our belts with a visit to the sex museum, just to fill in some time before the train mind, where the displays got progressively more disturbing. A very fast progression past the urination-transvestite-homosexual-animal (they don’t need a political party advocating this stuff it’s already here) and chubby which was almost the most horrifying. It made some pretty sick shit look normal.
This was nicely balanced by a visit to the Van Gogh museum, though a hefty €10 it was well worth it with a very comprehensive collection fully representing the Dutch master’s career. I had really wanted to go to the Rijksmuseum especially to see Rembrandt’s Nightwatch and was planning to go Sunday morning before heading back to Germany but the train schedule didn’t allow enough time to make it worthwhile. Next time.

Always say hello

Here are some of the oh-so-sensitive songs that were quite popular among the hordes of English fans in Köln:

I’d rather be a cabbage
Rather be a cabbage
Rather be a cabbage
Than a Swede.

My granddad shot your granddad
Doo da, doo da
My granddad shot your granddad
Doo da, doo da

Oh it’s fun to be morally superior. It makes for an interesting mix with the newly found patriotic fervour that the hosts have tried on, found they liked and are now wearing it everywhere. Carolin, who I stayed with during my time in this ancient Roman city, was telling me about the last world cup which was on while she was living in Australia and how it was only after seeing some other guys wearing German tops into bars and cheering the team on that she did the same for the first ever time. Many people have commented that the number of black, red and yellow flags about the place is unprecedented, and more than a few have suggested that if Germany win the thing then Poland should look out in a generations time.

It’s pretty cool really to see a nation awakening to itself and be able to show pride for the first time. Of course all of this is being helped by the way their team is playing and with their 3-0 demolition of Ecuador to top their group they are proving to be one of the form teams.

The past few days have been almost nothing but travel. After returning from Copenhagen on Sunday we went to game number three in Hamburg – Saudi/Ukraine – then the next day hopped the train down to Dedinghausen, met Grader’s host mum from his time in Germany, had lunch and then straight down to Köln. The idea being to be in amongst the English fans for their game against Sweden which is being played here tonight. Today is one of the biggest days of the tournament so far with both Germmany and England playing, both of whom probably have the biggest fan bases at the tournament, the Germans obviously because they are at home and the English because they have a good tradition of following their team. There were so many fans that they had to create three fan areas all of which were full. Then when I went to meet up with Carolin I found that most of Köln’s many Platzs were also crammed with locals.

All of this made it interesting trying to meet up, especially as our contact was a ride in the back of a truck from Mizunte in Mexico last year. She was with two friends then one of whom, Astrid, came out tonight. (Which if I ever get around to typing it out you can read about here one day :). Whoever says that Germans aren’t the friendliest people around obviously needs to come to Köln where they are known for being a bit more outgoing than the average. And this was certainly the case as I had a great night out and met so many really cool people. Later on Carolin told me that she had laughed with Astrid about how I just talk to everyone – I had been talking surfing with the girlfriend of one of Astrid’s brother’s friends :) – which the only response open was “but that’s how you end up with a place to stay in a German city that you had never thought you’d visit from a ride in a ute.”

"Danish, is that like a language they speak in Denmark" Michael Down

For the second, well third but Hannover doesn’t really count, European city that I have now been to I think that Kobenhavn will take some beating for the title of Favourite. It has it all, beautiful squares and architecture, canals (now pronounced as in banal), our new favourite thing – girls on bikes, and great nightlife.
One disadvantage to the place is a reluctance to join the Euro, so now it’s doing two calculations in your head to try and work out equivalent prices. This applies more to the others as I am pretty much in Euro is my new currency mode. But anyway the seven times table is getting a good working over, that gets you back to Euro and then double back for Kiwi. Being the young traveller that he is, Downo has a ‘First Time’ guidebook, the great thing about this is that it a little old. This means it has great advice like “…the Euro is nice in theory but will not catch on, you should forget about it as it only applies to select transactions.”
It’s always the surprise events that end up being the most rewarding and so it turned out again when in a bar at 4am we found out about a half marathon being held the next day. The real attraction for us was that the first eleven ks was over the Øresundsbron which connects Kobenhavn to Malmo in Sweden. You may have noticed the hour it was decided to take part, thankfully the race wasn’t until three in the afternoon unlike most Kiwi events which are predominantly held in the morning. It was quite amusing waiting for the bus to the start point as Europeans don’t just go running in an old t-shirt and shorts. Absolutely everyone had the latest gear from dri-fit t’s, those leggings that everyone’s wearing these days and brand new trainers. And there was us who had only taken day bags north and so only had street wear, Ben had saved me from doing it in Chucks by lending me his sneakers. All of this was quite intimidating thinking we were going to be destroyed and that of all of us I had done the most running for the last few months. And this was the 10km part of the SBS Marathon the weekend before I left. All I knew was how much I’d struggled to get through that and this was over twice as far.
My only goal when setting out was to make it the eleven km to the end of the bridge, from there I could always get a bus to the finish or something. Maybe it was because of the longer distance but the competitiveness was replaced by camaraderie among the three of us who lined up at the start line – Ben having decided that going for a picnic with the two girls from the night before was a more manly option, I’ll let you decide – and we set off doing healthy five minute kms. It was kind of strange on the bridge as it felt it was flying by and that we were halfway there after only three kilometres. But alas there were still eight to go but we managed to keep up the five minute pace and we exited well under our hour goal. It was surprisingly steamy while crossing, you would think that being over such an expanse of water there would be a bit of breeze, added to this was there only being one drinks station for all that time compared to the six or so for the last half. The best part about reaching the 12km mark wasn’t that we were over half way but that that’s where the second station was.
Unlike this year’s City to Surf which just ended in a car park we got to finish in Malmo’s stadium, it’s always a great feeling sprinting the finish on nice spongy running track. It was amazing how many people were out on the streets cheering everyone on, heaps of people had set up their sprinklers out on the road or the kids were spraying people with hoses. It was amazing how much of a boost it gave getting a refreshing dousing and probably played no small part in how good I was feeling with two km to go. Much better in fact than at 11 when Ben’s shoes were giving me grief and I let the others go on ahead. And so a final time for them of 1h55m and me 2h01m – I shouldn’t have taken those photos – which seemed remarkable all things considered and while I was happy just to finish that one minute still grates. It’s a real shame that this was the last Broloppet as it really is a cool event.
I am undecided as to whether an afternoon in Malmo is enough to merit a Sweden patch on my pack, usually such a small amount of time wouldn’t but the method of arrival I think may warrant an exception to be made. Thoughts?
Needless to say that night was spent very quietly, in stark contrast to the previous one. To be honest I didn’t think that it would’ve been, after watching the Italy game we were all feeling pretty weary after having to get up in time to catch a 7:15 train. But then in bounded two young things who were insistent that we go out, they had some club in mind but we never made it. The first obstacle was this American guy whose friend had obviously had far too much to drink and was passed out on a bench. This led to one of the quotes of the trip when after trying to get us to call the police and report a drunk American somewhere in Kobenhavn he came out with “what? Are you guys just going to leave me here with him and go off and party?”
To which I think everyone thought “that’s the plan, maybe you should’ve stopped him downing the vodka shots you say he’d been drinking since mid afternoon.”
Reading our minds he responded with “I don’t want to make that call to his parents. I’ve lost too many friends to drink driving. I’ve made the call too many times to parents to tell them that their kid is in a body bag”
It was pretty obvious that I wasn’t the only one trying not to piss themselves. The good thing about this delay was that Marie and Nana (I don’t know either, those Danes) had been talking to a couple of locals who told them about this big music thing just around the corner. Despite the fact that it was winding up there was still a cool atmosphere and talked to some guys about the upcoming Rothskilde festival, unfortunately Munich is too far away to think about coming back for it. I have never seen so many bikes as outside this place. Bikes should be used a lot more as a mode of transport.
Any place that has Iggy Pop’s Passenger – easily one of my favourite tracks to dance to - playing when you walk through the door is going to be a good time and the Vega Natklub did not disappoint. I don’t think Denmark has seen the likes of the moves that Grader was pulling out, they certainly brought a lot of attention on our group.It was quite crazy walking to Vega with the birds singing and the sky lightening. The sun had only gone down fully about 11. And when we finally crawled back to the hostel morning was well under way

Together at last

Team Weltmeisterschaft is together at last. Skinner and Downo had left the Hamburg brigade in limbo by chasing a false dream of getting Korea-Togo tickets. If any of you watched that game and saw the screaming hordes of frenzied asiatics you would realise the true futility of this. They were productive in making some friends while away, two apparently top rate British guys who we will hopefully be meeting up with again in München.
Before then however it’s time to leave Oriana in peace to study for her exams and take a temporary break from WM second round action and head to Kobenhavn and one of the original Zeelands. WM 2nd round action reminds me about Wednesday night when Germany played Poland. This is probably the biggest game in this group, lots of nice historical rivalry and even better not confined only to the football field, no need for details here hopefully you are all fully up to date on your history. This was the game when the German public really started to think that maybe they had a team that could do well in the competition. When Neuville scored with only a couple of minutes to go the 67,000 people in the fanfest went absolutely mental. One of the genius ironies of this game was that both of the German strikers were born in Poland, it seemed that neither wanted to score against their home country either. Germany had looked the better team throughout the game with Poland apparently forgetting that the object of the game is to score. Now they are out so doesn’t matter.
It is not surprising that this was the first time we’ve seen any untoward behaviour. The Polish fans were very aggressive in both appearance and attitude and despite the huge numerical disparity more than a few of them were obviously looking for fight. Pretty arrogant really, surrounded by people who hate you and standing there insulting them. And so it was no surprise that midway through the second half the packed crowd was forced apart by a phalanx of fully kitted out police who, after a brief show of defiance from the foolish Poles, proceeded to dish out a good old fashioned beat down and drag them out.
For this next story please refer to photo album. We think it must have been one of the Reeperbahn’s quality institutions who decided that they needed to cash in on the football mania. What better way to do this than to get one of your employees, some black, red and yellow paint a national flag and a photographer. Take all of the above to a guaranteed mass of people and bingo front page for your prospectus or maybe new signage out front.
After the game was over the Reeperbahn was unbelievable, hordes of people and innumerable cars with flags streaming behind and horns blaring slowly making their way down too. It had taken us quite a while to exit the fanfest as you might expect and so the street was already thronging, but even after a walk up and down including a kebab stop people were still pouring out of the gates at the same rate as when we exited.
So after that distraction shall we turn back to Kobenhavn. This Deutsche Bahn Weltmeister pass is turning out to be a most prudent investment. Only having to pay from the border makes it feel like a very cheap trip. In planning the trip I had always loved the idea of the four of us cruising around in the booths that you get with the table. And like so many things so far the reality was every bit as good as one could want, much laughter did ensue. A quote book has been started and while the title page does state that ‘what goes in the quote book stays in the quote book’ I think that some of the entries will be too good to lock away. Keep your eyes peeled.
For all of those who remember the good old days of SYC we discovered the source of one of the more peculiar group names. Turns out someone had been to Club 34 here and enjoyed it so much they wanted to keep the memory alive. Tim Chesney what were you doing down a street like that ;)
Both myself and Mr Michael Down have guide books that specifically state that at the City Public Hostel do not end up in the 75 person dorm. It seemed like good advice but on reaching the reception desk that the only beds they had left were in this room. No-one could be bothered walking anywhere else so we decided to try it for a night and see what happens. It’s a very weird thing walking through a door that says Beds 75-150 and into what is ostensibly a school hall. These people must be making a crap load of money ‘cos for the amount they charge there isn’t really much here, not even cubicles around the showers but that is an obstacle for another day and another report.

The day job

Doing nothing but watch football is much harder than at first it would seem. With three games a day the first kicking off at 3pm and the final whistle not being blown until 11 it’s become a full time occupation. Thankfully Tobias’ flat is only a fifteen minute walk from the Hamburg fanfest, just past Otto across the Reeperbahn and bingo, so at least the commute is manageable.
Hamburg has really put in a good effort for their fanfest with every participating country represented with a stall, which means lots of people pretending to be Brasilian, a strange literal translation from German to English for the Ivory Coast – Elfenbeinküste meaning something like elephant’s foot, and everyone ignoring the Saudi tent. Why would you bother, crap food, no fans and most importantly no beer. Also odd is the British tent only selling Strongbow cider and no lager.

The first game we watched involved Holland so lots of easy humour involving Dutch fans. Then a game that definitely wasn’t marked down on my list of games to see between Mexico and Iran. Who knew that there would be so many Iranians and that they would be so loud – at time of writing the first half of this game has probably been the loudest of any witnessed, having flown over Iran earlier that morning and the vociferous fans made it an easy choice over who to cheer for. This game also involved our first cultural misstep of the tournament. We had battled our way into the temporary stands that border the viewing area and were firmly ensconced in with the Iranians when we realised out of the whole stand we were the only ones with a beer in our hand, oops.

On the other side of Eicholtz is a Portuguese (from now on being pronounced to rhyme with sways :) street, what could be more perfect to view their first outing against Angola. So after downing the first kebab of what I’m sure will become many, going to be hard to beat this one though, we joined the throng on the street all craning to catch a glimpse of a screen in the teeming bars. 1-0 meant they and we went home happy. Me more so because that meant finally going to bed having had just two hours sleep the second night in Dubai, not much more the night before and then it being back into the early hours of the morning Dubai time.

Today also marked the Team Weltmeisterschaft European footballing debut. Every Tuesday Tobias plays a bit of social five a side down at his university and he invited Grader and I to join him. I was a bi nervous as to how the Kiwi standard would match up against one of the greatest footballing nations but we seemed to hold our own.

It was a pristine ground surrounded by beautiful classical building. It was also a stiflingly hot evening. There has been somewhat of a heat wave in these parts with day upon day over thirty barely cooling down in the evenings. With it not getting close to dark till after 10 the days have a tendency to drift by very quickly – what you think is mid to late afternoon turns out to be more like 7pm.

Italia!!! Italia!!! Italia!!!

A good solid start to the tournament for one of Team Weltmeisterschaft’s favourites. The stadium at Hannover was also very cool, generously dispensing great views from all around the bowl. The noise was intense with continual cheering, at no stage could you hear anything from the pitch itself. The coolest old gent from Italy was sitting just in front of me, turning up about ten minutes before kick off he leisurely made his way down the packed row and then on reaching his seat took a moment to wipe it down before assuming his imperious position. During play itself he then gave continual advice to the players on everything from who to pass to through how convincing he found their acting (sorry FIFA – simulation). One moment we all joined in was Pirlo’s masterful shot. For this we had the perfect angle for to be astounded as the ball ducked, weaved and somehow held its line to cushion into the right side netting.

So it turns out that all of FIFA’s efforts to stop scalping have worked out to pretty much nil. Right from getting off the train we were being offered tickets and as Grader was lacking, we were interested in making a purchase. When ordering the tickets we had had to enter so many personal details that were to be matched to the ticket; what we didn’t think of was just ordering as a company as one genius Brit had. Thumbing his nose even more by calling it something decidedly dodgy like International Ticket Holdings or something. So it was to my surprise that just on kick off I received a text from the G man that he had joined me inside having previously decided that the €150 equated to about six people to the reception. So I hope that you aren’t near the bottom of the list, though a couple of you might be saved as he got it for a hundred.

Getting there felt like just commuting inside the same city. The S-bahn station is just at the end of Tobias’ street which is two stops from the Hauptbahnhof (central station) and from there a simple seventy minute trip down the road. All extremely smooth and comfortable. We did get a taste of the dark underside of German efficiency on the way back when a Ghanaian guy who was sharing our booth and who didn’t have a ticket, he said he’d had his wallet stolen, raised the ire of the conductor who was visibly and audibly seething with frustration and impatience. Probably not the easiest trip for him though, a packed train full of people returning from a football match, 1am and probably more than a few trying to get away without a ticket.

I hope all of the cities are as well laid out for their games. The centre of town in Hannover was a nice ten minute walk from the fanfest and then from there about another fifteen to twenty to the stadium. It created a great atmosphere with everyone walking down the one road to get there with banter, songs and drumming flying back and forth. One of the more genius sights at the fanfest was the complete lack of customers at the Budweiser tent. Plenty of the good stuff was being poured at other booths but none of it officially sanctioned. I really don’t know why they bother, who would choose a Bud over even the cheapest, nastiest German offering. You’d have to look pretty hard for the latter as even widely criticised Astra, a local Hamburg beer, is not too bad.

This modern love ... breaks me

I know that the UAE is trying to set all sorts of records for different extravagant things but one that I hadn’t counted on was the speed of passport control, about as long as it takes to open a passport, stamp it and rearrange your pristine white robes. Who needs landing cards anyway, they would only slow you down. Even when I had something to declare there was nowhere to do it. The whole thing took about as much time as I got to spend with Saija a couple of nights later.
An advantage to a religious intolerance of alcohol is that energy has to be put into flavoursome substitutes. My favourite surrogate were the fantastic yoghurt drinks that were on offer-strawberry, mango, and one with passionfruit were some that I sampled and it would be unfair to nominate one above the others.
Essential reading for anyone interested in this region, actually everyone, is Wilfred Theisinger’s Arabian Sands.
People are probably getting sick of being told how great Emirates is. I know that two of my colleagues have already been extolling their virtues to the world. And bear in mind that I am still going to write good things about them even though their baggage handlers broke my pack.
One of the biggest improvements is just the Airbus A340 that they fly with a 2-4-2 seat formation as well as being a lot quieter and feeling much smoother than the Boeing 747. Then the food actually tastes like food and there’s a lot of it, always good. You also have to respect the large investment to bring all flights live coverage of the football fest in Germany. On the flight to Hamburg I caught the Argentina-Cote d’Ivoire and Trinidad & Tobago-Sweden games that I had missed while out with Saija the night before. Basically they cover everything good food, comprehensive entertainment, quality service and of course free drinks. I could even be updating this through a wi-fi connection but there are too many movies to watch and someone nice to talk to in the seat next door. Sorry.
My sister had recommended sitting on the right hand side of the plane when leaving Dubai which I managed to swing and was rewarded with stunning views of Iran – no nuclear facilities spotted just in case you were wondering Donald. Dubai airport is pretty nuts and totally dominated by Emirates which made check-in both straightforward and confusing. Not quite as mystifying as arrival however, I think that I went through immigration while on one of those moving walkways it was that fast.
The flight took us up in between Iran and Iraq then up to Poland before heading west to Hamburg. It’s amazing how developed the whole plain is, even the woods seem to be in geometric shapes and you have to wonder how they have survived there. It also seemed as though there were little villages spaced about 10km apart crisscrossing the whole area.
When one of the power companies in New Zealand tried to install a wind turbine in some remote outpost there was huge outcry from the three people and five dogs that lived there about noise and visual pollution. At the same time as they ran their fan heaters all winter in their un-insulated houses. Here there are wind turbines everywhere, spinning away incessantly even though there doesn’t appear to be any wind. The future is now, get on board ;)
‘Hi Grader”