Woke up on the bus floor. Bus was on a ferry to Allemagna (remember to respect tour rule 2) and breakfast was gonna be served as soon as you get your butt up to passenger deck, we were informed in the bus speaker system. We fought for seats against a crowd of Almtuna hockey juniors and managed a hostile takeover next to the slot machines. The presence of low-lactose yoghurt made a tired Berg cry with appreciation - and the state of the eggs made me cry inside for a completely different reason. Ruben, in charge of the eggs, apparently thought is was a great idea to cook all 80 of them at once - result: runnier than a mexican shit. We rolled off the ferry at 9 and had 4 hours to go.
THURSDAY AFTERNOON
First training after 18 hours on a bus can be nothing but painful. German spy Steve attended the men's training, no doubt in hope of picking up sneaky tips on their weaknesses and secret calls. Looked like they played touch, so I doubt he found it useful. Ladies did some lineouts and other set pieces, but eventually the long journey got the better of us and everyone was quite happy to check in at the hotel and have a shower.
THURSDAY EVE
Six huge taxis came to pick us up and take us to dinner - myself was quite looking forward to my chosen Leg of pork with beer sauce... For everyones benefit (ours and other customers) we had been put in a seperate room with our own bar! Unfortunately, in a beer country such as Bundesligaland, they rarely stock cider - hence myself and Paulo felt lost for a while before he decided on a scaringly green cocktail and I dared to try the local brew. Worst offence this evening was SS general Dory losing the black book! (Does NOT look good in the tour hitlers' eyes.) Some people moved on to a student pub but myself took a taxi home while listening to LillBeggo screaming for senf (mustard) and Mattias pretending to understand the taxi driver's long monologue in german and replying with eeh, natürlich. Eloquent man, he is.
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