German Beer and CD's
I was looking out old photos the other night and came across our trip to Munich to watch us throw away a 1-0 lead courtesy of that other goalkeeping giant MON brought us Hedman, whose only saving grace was his wife. It was a great trip that started with all of us stating we didn't want to go, and then all eventually changing our minds which meant our flights, departures etc were all over the place. One of the boys booked all 8 us into the one room of a hotel; I think the term "cosy" would apply here. The hotel itself had a plaque on the wall that celebrated its fifth year in a row being voted the official breeding ground for all the flies in Bavaria, luckily with the help of German beer and sausages the flatulence levels were such that not only did the flies fall from the air like confetti at a wedding, but three of the boys had to have adrenalin injections to bring them out of the fart induced coma they had slipped into. It was touch and go for a while, or should that be touching cloth, but eventually the call of the Steiner won the day? The booking shambles meant that coming home we all departed at different times, half in the middle of the night, cursing and blinding as they tripped over shoes, crunched tumblers and squashed fags. Travelling home alone is not to be recommended when your German is not polished, so when all you can ask for is beer, then conversations can be a tad limited and short of depth. However, like true heroes we all eventually made it home and Munich is a place I would recommend, although I would avoid our hotel as the smell is still noticeable and the cordon is still around the building as far as I know. However, if you do go there can you ask if a pair of Dennis the menace boxers were handed in?
That was the second time we had been in Germany, having been there in Stuttgart also the previous year as part of the Seville pilgrimage... We loved Stuttgart and the wee place we stayed was about 17 stops from the city centre, about half an hours travelling. It was a friendly wee place, with the finest and largest Gherkins I have ever seen, and the taste was to die for. The mate who shared my room did not share my enthusiasm, and was horrified to be roused from his beer laced slumber with the noise of my drunken munching of the aforementioned Gherkins. For the life of me I can't think why he took offence! The game was lost but won and we marched on, Celtic to the next round us to the nearest pub. On the day of our departure we decided that since we had got through to the next round decided to spend the last hours of our trip in a wee pub with the locals, a sort of cultural exchange.
We started to drink, just to be sociable mind and a great time was in full swing before my brother Gerry realised to his utter euphoric joy that beer was a euro cheaper and got a round in without first being held down and relieved of his wallet. It had to happen, I was dreading it, but eventually out came the Celtic CD and Willie Malley was belted out to the utter joy of the regulars. Soon we were all singing and dancing around hands across the sea type of gig, it was truly magical. After about the fifteenth rendition of the song and the same number of drinks, I looked up at the clock and realised we had 20 minutes to get to the train station, cover all 17 stops, get on another train to the airport and check in. A tall order. We managed to get out of the place with a thousand hugs still on our shoulders, each of us put 10 Euros into a big glass and told them to continue drinking on us, although my brother Gerry did hold us up a little by demanding a receipt. They pleaded we left the CD which we did, and off we went into a beautiful German afternoon, slightly pissed, but full of the drunkards eternal hope that all would be well. Unbelievably we missed the plane, a Lufthansa flight via London. Disaster, as we all contemplated in a rather more sober frame of mind I may add that we could be looking at an additional cost of up to £500 each to get home. Gerry fainted at this and it was only the intervention of a doctor a priest that brought him round. "Father can you help me"? He pleaded, "a confession my son"? A splendid idea father but a tap would be more helpful, if you don't mind!
I spoke to the Lufthansa desk and explained our situation, blaming the German beer and Gherkins and pleading for forgiveness. He told me there were no more flights that day and to please get of my knees and let go of his ankle. We would have to wait until the next day regardless of how attractive my sister was or how splendid his tash was. I asked could we get on a British Airways flight instead. "Yes" he replied "but that will cost you". My eyebrow raised a la Roger Moore the tears dried and I wipe the snotters on my mates sleeve, " So, if we wait until tomorrow it will be free? "Yes it will" I offered to have his children on the spot! God bless Lufthansa and the German people!
We met a guy who also missed his flight but had flown with BA in the hotel and he told us he had to pay £450 for a flight and another £90 for his room. We shared a big room that cost us £20 each. We went into a small burger type place and all my comrades where a tad upset at missing the flight. "I need to get home, this is terrible blah blah, big weans all. I went round them all and asked "what are you doing tonight? "I'm really pissed off, I'm going to bed" "I'm pissed off tae am going to bed" "Me too said Eddy. He looked at me and could sense a plan, and said, "What's your plan"?
"Well, we have missed our flight, we thought we would have to shell out £500 each, we don't thanks to Lufthansa, we have a great room at £20 a head, we are Stuttgart, the town is great, the train station is right there and I'm gorgeous. I'm getting on the next rain and I'm going back to the city centre where I will have a great time, get pissed and then come back and go to bed". There was a silence then Eddy said "That's a better plan, I'm coming with you" and with that we headed back to the city like a couple of wide eyed bawbags. Needless to say we had a great night, my patter was sublime and all the locals wanted to talk to us and get my number. When we returned a few sherry's later we found two of the manic depressives propping up the bar having a rare time with the guy who had been fleeced by BA for £500, don't know what he was laughing about though, which again proves conclusively the quality of the beer. The next day we flew home, we had an extra day in a special place, and we still had Seville to come. It was a magical year and a memory that we all will all cherish. Gerry was aghast though when we got home, he had lost his receipt from the pub, it scars him to this day and no matter how many ads he places in the German press it remains lost to this day.
Hail Hail.