For once, I didn't wake on my own avail to the excitement of a favourable time difference back home this morning. Oh no, not this morning! At 5:00am the sleep-wrecking ball that is my alarm ploughed its way through my dreams, leaving the land of nod decimated in its wake. It was for good reason though, at least I hoped it was, because it was AFL Grand Final day back home, and I was intent on having a good time experiencing the atmosphere of it in a country on the other side of the world. If it was anything like last year's game, with Hawthorn and Sydney playing again, then I was in for an exciting morning watching an Australian game, in an Irish pub, in a German city. So despite sleep's destruction, it was easy to get up. Being so early, with the rest of the hotel's patrons likely still sleeping, I had good mind to be quiet on my tip toe trip to the bathroom (at least I didn't have to worry about anybody else in the hallway today), and that was indeed my intention, but then I figured that if the walls were as thin as I thought they were, and my experience so far had told me they were, then the whole hotel would be alert to the sounds of even my silence anyway, so it didn't really matter. I showered and got dressed, and with a quick hello to friends on the other side of the world utilising the super fast wifi of the hotel, I was off by about 5:20am, bound for Paddy's Irish Bar! It was still pretty dark out, and I crossed through Hamburg HBF and into the mall in the main shopping area, lit by the lights from inside all the shops. Similar to other places in Germany I'd been, in particular Frankfurt, I was amazed at the amount of homeless people in the streets. They made good use of every nook and cranny in front of and between the shops, covered in blankets and cardboard sheltered from the wind and passers by. It was quite sad really, and a bit surprising considering the impression I have of Germany as being this modern and efficient society. I got to Paddy's just after 5:30am, when the doors opened. There were a few people in there already, with one bloke sitting at the bar and another few sitting towards the back. Scanning the locations of the TVs (which didn't really matter, there were a s***load), I decided that for view of the game and ease of hydration, the bar was likely to be the best place to position myself. Bad choice; after grabbing a beer I quickly realised the bloke already sitting at the bar was an absolute spanner. He'd have been worse than that if I wanted to make this blog less family friendly. He was just a dick. An expat dick. Trying to make a friend and be nice, I struck up a conversation with him by asking who he thought would win. He didn't even know who the teams were, which is fine by me - I'm no footy snob. But when he decides to sit at the very front and pretend to get excited about it pretty clearly for the purpose of self-gratification that he's an Aussie and he's pretty awesome for it, which is exactly what he was doing, he's a dick. And he really was. Newsflash dickwad, practically everybody here today is going to be Australian. We don't need you telling us how awesome you are for it, particularly if you don't even live in Australia anymore. Gee, I dunno, maybe tell us about your awesome experiences travelling and moving overseas? Not about how good you are because you're Australian. Look, I'm pretty easygoing and accepting of everybody, you who know me well know this well, so for me to ramble this long tells you he really was a massive dick. Anyway, lucky I escaped his grasp when the next unwitting person walked into the door; he got excited to be a d*** to them, I got excited to slide way to the back with the other group. Phew. There, we quickly became friends, bonding over our experiences and lucky escape of dickwad (they had the same trouble just before me), and being entertained by the poor soul now being subjected to it. In time, that poor soul also headed our way, and the pub began to fill up. We were actually in a pretty good spot on the back wall, with two TVs in front of us above the bar and another couple on the right wall next to us. We also had a pretty good shout system going so the pints were starting to flow, and the atmosphere of the place growing as game time approached. To my surprise, Germany has a pretty big local AFL league, with teams spread around the country. One of them, the Hamburg Dockers, are even affiliated with Fremantle in the AFL. Players from that team were here today too, helping to run the day and trying to sell their merchandise. They were barracking hard for Sydney because their affiliated team in Fremantle were beaten by Hawthorn last year, so they helped create a good atmosphere. I struck up a conversation with a couple who I ended up sitting next to, and discovered they were Australians on a short-term living arrangement in Hamburg, for about six months. On a side note, they also thought dickwad was a dick. That part doesn't really serve much purpose to this part of the story, but it does reiterate that I wasn't being nasty or *****y in my rant earlier. When the conversation turned to where we all came from, I began on my usual trajectory in answering this question. Knowing that unlike me, most people wouldn't consider Moe to be the centre of the universe, or wouldn't in fact have likely ever heard of it, when I get asked where I come from, I'm usually more general in my answer and say Melbourne. This isn't because I'm ashamed of being from Moe (centre of the universe), but more because at least the people asking would have a bit of an idea where it is. Besides, with the size of the world, it's only a bee's d*** difference anyway. If probed further, such as a 'where about's in Melbourne?' question, I get a bit more specific and answer 'south east', which is where it usually ends. On this occasion, it didn't. Once it gets to a third level of detail, I go the whole way. So when the friendly people asked where in south east Melbourne, I knew I was found out. I said 'Gippsland', they said 'where'. I said 'Latrobe Valley', they said 'where'. I said 'Moe', they said 'Leongatha'. ****, my cover was blown. More seriously though, how amazing that you can travel around the world and find people that come from so close to home. A bee's d*** really. It can sometimes be a small place. But while it can seem small, I was a really long way from home, so thank heavens for wifi (how was that for a segue to transition to wifi?), and the quick internet this bar had! I used the decent time difference to my advantage and made sure I wished all my friends who barracked for either Hawthorn or Sydney the very best of luck, like my luck to them would have a tangible outcome on the game! Weird hey? I also used it to catch up with other friends who would likely be so uninterested in the game that you would think they could sleep through it. But I wasn't too distracted by it as I was also getting busy necking pints at 6:00am. After a few, our supplied breakfast was, well, supplied to us; a delicious egg and bacon roll that really ticked all the boxes as being a great compliment to beer and a great breakfast food. Perfect. Soon it was 6:30am and the game was starting. The pub was pretty packed and there was a great atmosphere as the first ball was bounced. Seeing as I'd gotten up so early this morning, I was really hoping it was a close game to make it completely worth it. Sadly it wasn't. I reckon by 10 minutes into the game the result looked a forgone conclusion. Hawthorn were kicking away, and Sydney didn't even look like they were gonna get close. If at quarter time it wasn't certain, then by half time it most certainly was. It really wasn't a game at all. I reckon I'd drank more beers than Sydney had kicked goals it was that one-sided. Oh well, it was still worth it anyway. It was great to experience a grand final in another country, and it was great to meet some pretty fun people to have some beers with (not you dickwad, there was actually a bronx cheer when you left), particularly when I was travelling alone. By about 10:00am the game was done. Rolling drunk, I briefly had a kick-to-kick of the footy on the streets of Hamburg before I was off, back to the hotel for a break. After an early start, I was relieved to get back into bed! When I regained some composure by early arvo, I decided that I really needed to make some concrete plans for tomorrow, seeing as I still hadn't arranged my next destination. It's actually sort've empowering knowing I could literally choose a heap of ways to go. Do I head north to Scandinavia and visit Copenhagen? Maybe. While I could've done that, in the end I knew I only had a couple of days so it would be a rush, and I've heard it's beautiful so I think it's somewhere I'd like to share with somebody special instead, and have enough time to do so. So I didn't do that. Instead, I chose Brussels, Belgium as my next destination! It was going to work out perfectly really, for a heap of reasons. Firstly, my rail pass applied to Belgium, so I could use one of my days' travel to get there for nothing. Secondly, it was in the same direction as London, where I had to be in six days. Thirdly, I could go via Amsterdam and leave a heap of stuff at Wim and Humphrey's (not B. Bear) place, freeing up space in my bag (sadly I wasn't going back to Miniature Wonderland after this though). Fourthly, Brussels is close to Luxembourg, so I could possibly go to yet another country while I was there! It all worked out so well, you'd swear I planned it that way. Trust me, I didn't. I'm just that good. With all that in mind, I found and booked a hotel in Brussels using the super fast wifi, then gathered my things and headed to the station to book my train legs. By that time it was mid afternoon and I was getting hungry. It was a really beautiful day in Hamburg as well, so I decided to head back to the bar on the banks of Binnenalster, the lake in the city centre. This decision was not at all related to the fact I could read the menu there. I sat in the sun, and being in Hamburg, I ordered a hamburger! How couldn't I at least once? By the time I'd finished that and had another couple of drinks the sun was starting to set. As it was my last bit of time here, I wandered around the city a bit more on a purposefully indirect route back to the hotel. Once back in my room, I started to pack my bags in preparation for tomorrow. Because I'd had such a late lunch, I wasn't really hungry for any dinner, but I was craving a juice from the juice bar I saw in the station earlier. I headed back to the station, got said juice, and took it back to my room. It was ****. With that, and German TV as my background to the rapidly rebuilding land of nod, I was headed for sleep; my time in Hamburg done.