Ain't no mountain high enough!

Munich! We are in the land where the seeds of evil were planted and zwei pint in ein glas is a reality...

BUT.. to begin from where we left off. The bottle of cheap wine was disgusting, Andy attepted to mix it with orange juice in a drink known as 'the les Mis experience'. Steph drank hers out of half a fruit juice carton because we didn't have enough cups, we truly are living the life of luxury.
The campsite runs a bus into Venice so no need for confsing transport systems and we were transported into the hub of Venice where it is more likely that you will hear an American accent than an Italian one.

Our first port of call was San Marco square where we took pictures of the huuuuuuuge buildings and were again refused admittance to a cathedral on account of our revealing attire. We also overheard and Amerian guy filming who when faced with the glories of european architecture remarked 'gosh! Thats a big tower.' Eloquent.

Whilst roaming the labyrinths of Venice looking for a really really cheap pizza place to eat (according to Steph's travel bible) we got too hungry and ended up in a little restaurant which was lovely and although the meal was lovely I won't bore you with the details of our food. As some of my companions have been doing... After lunch we were killing time waiting for a bar which we HAD to visit to eventually open. Suffice to say that the decor itself is worth going for althought the drinks a throughly over-priced as are most things in Venice. We left te bar Steph with a free t-shirt in hand and having added our bit to the decorations in the form of our artwork (well actually not me and Andy's.. they weren't considered good enough). Our bus back to the canpsite left at 10pm so we toddled back through the darkening streets, pausing at markets and exhibitions of venetian dancing.

Bac at the campsite w decided it was time for a night out. What better thing to do then that go to the campsite organised 'Tunnel Disco!' or as it is now referred to the ' Tragic Disco' due to the fact that at one point there were only three people dancing and that was Steph, Andy and a Liverpudlian bloke. However all was not lost we made friends with both the other Liverpudlians and also some nice bt not quite 'all-there' Aussie girls who were treating us to some of their party tricks.

The next morning was unfortunately time to leave and so we ook our last bus into Venice, stocked up on more supermarket food (sorry) and boarded a 5hr train to Innsbruck. On the train we met some Americans from Illinois and Indiana Steph and I had some interesting discussions of American politics and American attitudes to history which were very enlightening. We said goodbye to or friends at the station and began anouthter of our searches fro and elusive hostel.

This one was a little different, usually we have arrived at hostels hot and ever so slightly damp, in this case we turned up looking like drowned hunchback-rats dressed in tarpaulins and (nearly) minus one flip-flop in Steph's case. This was mostly because God saw fit to grace us with one of his most magnificent thuderstorms complete with torrential rain just as we stepped of the bus. We believe this to be either a test of patience or preparation, I would like to think we passed despite the number of odd looks we got from the locals.

Our hostel (Nikolaus Glockenhaus) was beautiful, very homely and with comfortable if slightly precarious beds. We changed our clothes, made friends with some Aussies from downstairs and then headed out into the now mysteriously dry Innsbruck in search of aahhh (food). Steph got rather excited about a set of swings and unfortunately failed to notice the giant puddle underneath - lets just say she won't be doing that again for a while, her left Converse will never be the same.

We would like to reccomend a little cafe called Retro just off the main street which gave me my first taste of goulash.

Our plan for the next day was to lock our kit in the staion and head up the mountain by way of a cable-car. This was a most excellent idea. Having worked out how to use the lockers and located the correct bus to take us up the mountain we were soon on our way with a picnic and ukelele in tow, Frank the cuddly sheep also joined us on this expedition. The end of the line for the bus route was a breathtaking view but it was nothing compared to when we got (halfway) up the mountain. I think it was worth getting the thunderstorm out the day before.. We had our picnic on the slope and sang along to the accompniament of a Uke, much to the confusion of some serious alpine walkers. After that it was time to start exploring, we threw snowballs from som of the snow which was STILL on the the mountain and then Steph and Andy trekked up further.

It was all going very well until this point when they encountered a herd of apparently demonic sheep/goats we are not sure which. The herd then chased them up the mountain much to Andy's discomfort and embarrasment as he fell over and rolled down the hill as Steph nearly fell over laughing. Let's put it this way she still laughs hysterically when she thinks about it now (conveniently forgetting she fell down a bridge in Venice along with her backpack and a shriek).

Now we are in Munich and comfortably full many thanks to Richard (a friend of Andy's Dad). Our train journey consisted of kicking people out of our reserved seats and then settling down to eat huge salads (so huge Andy had to take a nap half-way through), and napping. Our arrival in Munich was heralded by our complete disregard and disruption of the first efficient German system we came into contact with mcuh to the irritation of the ticket lady. Once arriving at Richards flat we have been taken out to the second largest BierGarten in the world and drunk... CIDER! We have also seen people actually WEARING lederhosen which makes us very happy and also slightly worried.

Tomorrow the plan is to see the Nazi roots in Munich and also to see Dachau but nothing is certain...
Over and out.