I’m sure when the German postcard designers ran their slogans through Google Translate they all made sense at the time.

Miles 177
Total 1052
Accompanied by: James and the giant peach, The BFG.

Here are the Lego Me’s I made in Cologne.

The first is me last year, when I was miserable and wondering whether I was brave enough to move back to Wigan (because it’s difficult to admit you aren’t totally happy, and make a big decision which might be wrong)

As you can see I am holding a pie and contemplating my future.

This is me this year:

As you can see I am very happy because I am coming home. I have a lovely job testing blood and I do not have to carry a pie round with me to remind me of my friends up North. All good. 😀

Miles: 195
Total: 875

Accompanied by: Fantastic Mr Fox, 3am Grooves (free with Sunday Mirror), First half of James and the giant peach.
Market
Nut woman
Padlock
Fizzy water
Parking man
Getting changed
Lonely
Shopping
Car
Hostel
Weather

Today has been a quiet sort of day all in all. Just walked LOADS. There are 3 bridges over the river that I can use to get into town so this morning I took a walk further up and went over the pedestrian bridge. Just by the steps there was a couple of padlocks hung onto the railing. I just thought that people had left them there to chain their bikes to.

Just a couple of padlock. Then there were a few more. And a few more.

And then looking further along the bridge you notice all different colours glinting in the sunlight. And they’re all padlocks. Hundreds and thousands of padlocks. Dozens of different colors and styles – some huge rusty metal ones, some simple plain ones written on with marker pen, some engraved with love hearts or flowers, but nearly all with names and a date. I remembered I’d read about this in a guide book a while ago. It’s just a tradition that couples go there and put their names up there forever.

Really is an amazing sight.

Just over the bridge is a wide strip of grass asking the riverbank, and I heard a proper poop poop and turned round to see what looked like the Hogwarts express coming along towards me. There are train tracks in the grass, it isn’t a regular track that’s used, but for some reason they just had an old fashioned stream train running on today. Giving off proper big clouds of steam with each poop poop.

Walked all along the high street till the big schools had vanished and found a little market. Very disappointing after the long walk – more like a scutty car boot than the little local fresh produce fayre I was hoping for.

Back in the City Square and here are some of the buildings:

Really gorgeous traditional little buildings. It’s always nice to see the “old” part of anywhere you visit rather than just the new shiny skyscrapers and tower blocks. (Frankfurt is a big financial district so there’s shedloads of them to)

So you can imagine I was a bit disappointed to learn that they lovely quaint buildings round the square were actually build in 1975, and just done old style to give an impression of how Frankfurt might have looked. And they only needed rebuilding in the first place because Britian flattened 80% of Frankfurt in a bombing raid in 1944. Feel cheated because they’re fake, and guilty because we squished em. Don’t think I’ll be coming to Frankfurt again!

Oh, here’s the fountain with the lesbians’ scarves wrapped round it.

Still no idea why.

Erm… What else…just wandered lots. Ate more of the very delicious Kirsch und Schokolat cake from McCafe. Honestly, best cake ever. Mmmm mmm mmmm. Found a little oldy worldy church and lit a candle for my Grandad Griff as I always do. There was a church service going on, and it’s very rare these days I go to a “proper” church so it was nice to hear the sing sing voice of the priest, and smell incense and the old churchy smell that makes you feel all solemn. But to me that doesnt have any connection whatsoever to me and my faith and beliefs. Nice to know its there, but it just isn’t relevant to modern day Christians. Put simply, it wasn’t for me. I’m happy clappy and proud. If there ain’t a drum kit I’m off.

Not much worth mentioning today. Been a bit bored – I’m just too excited about getting to Copenhagen and want to be there NOW.

Wandered back to my hostel and on my way back along the river, from around one of the bridge supports came a proper Ned Flanders/Oscar Pistorious scream and round the corner came a man, wearing a suit and tie, running for his life. I stepped to one side to let him pass and without breaking stride he looked at me and shouted “Engleesh?…….I’M…….NOT…….. SCARED……. I’M…….NOT……..SCARED….!” running hell for leather. And after him came a ha ha ha big goose chasing him and honking away. If my phone battery hadn’t gone I would have taken a photo. Brilliantly funny sight. He disappeared off into the distance still shouting “I’M……NOT…..SCARED….” with the goose honking after him. The man protesteth too much methinks!

Back at my hostel I had a bit of a kip and then got more dressed up to go out for a proper meal. When I say “proper meal” and you’re traveling this just means something that you need a knife and fork to eat. The guide book said that the Old town had lots of good little restaurants and steak houses so went out for a late night wander. The guide book was wrong. All the pavement cafes down from the hostel looked more like seedy drugs dens than the Bernie Inn I was hoping for. There were girls drapped over whicker chairs, completely out of it, and massive hooka’s sitting on tables (that’s hookas as in “bongs” rather than hookers as in pimps) ( although I’m sure there were some of those around too) with sweet fruity smells and some more dubious ones filling the air. Not often I feel uneasy when I’m out on my todd – I’m used to going everywhere alone, but I didn’t feel comfortable so walked as quick as I could. Just dark and seedy and felt like the underworld of Frankfurt. Bit further on the was a tiny square at the crossroads of two of the bigger cobbled streets. And there oh joys of joys was “Anglo Irish” a lovely brightly lit welcoming looking pub, with a SkySports sign outside. Result! But the barman couldn’t speak English and they only served for food during the day. Gutted. Didn’t even serve Guinness. About as Irish as Jedward are American. I really hate plastic pubs. Would have just gone back home at this point, but really needed food. Kept to the well lit bigger cobbled roads and soon found my way out into Civiization. And a long row of takeaways. Like Bryn, one takeaway per head of the population. Some of them looked like places where you’d wipe your feet on the way out. And some had the typical gang of greasy blokes outside, thinking all us Engleesh ladies believe we’re the most bee-you-tee-full laydee they have ever seen. Yeah right you muppets.

Anyway, still on the hunt for food I finally found a pizza place. Now you might remember from last year that I accidentally ended up with a brocolli pizza so wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. “Hi, do you have chicken pizza? Pollo? Kip?” (because of yeah I know every language apart from German!). “Yes,” he says “We have ham”. No. Chicken. “Yes. Chicken” and he shows me a tub of ham. I shake my head and make motions of “Never mind, no thank you” while backing out of the door. He quickly shouts to a girl in the back and she comes out. “You want chicken?” Yes. The man points at me and says “Ham”. “Yes. Is Turkey Ham”. But no, that’s still not chicken. I shake my head and leave, heading back along the road to the first pizza place with the greasy men outside. “Hi. Do you have Chicken pizza? Pollo? Kip?” I say to the man behind the counter who unfortunatley has a squiffy eye. His English is better than the last place. “Yes,” he says proudly “We have ham”. Head in hands moment. What sort of town is this were everyone thinks ham is chicken? I mean, on the scale on Farmyard animals pigs and chickens aren’t anywhere near each other. Subway could never open a branch here – there’d be carnage. He can obviously tell by the look on my face this was not the right thing to say. He points to the donner chicken kebab thing on the upright rotating gas grill. I shake my head and begin to leave. He then shouts to a man outside “She wants chicken” and all the greasy men stop talking and stare at me through the window. The oldest of the men looks me up and down and nods, and then says to the squiffy eyed man “Show her the chicken”. And the bloke bends over to the fridge and lifts out…….a tub of chicken. Bizarre. No idea what I did too get approval from the local chicken mafia, but I’m glad I did. Was a very nice pizza. Eventually.

Took a shorter route back through the Old Town and spotted the sign for The other recommended Irish bar I’d seen in the guide books, only I hadn’t realised it was in the old town. And Monday was pub Quiz night! Hooray. Couldn’t really go in now I’d bought a pizza, and after the effort it took to get it I was NOT going to leave it. So I just had a coke and sat outside listening in and chatting to people who’d come out for a cig or a breather. This was a PROPER Irish Pub. None of this fake ‘We’ll paint a shamrock outside and we’ll be fine. None of us have ever been to Ireland but one of us saw a potato once” mock Irish pub. This was a good old fashioned fiddle-de-dee Irish pub. So I sat outside eating my mafia pizza and sipping my coke, listening to the quiz, the general banter and the music in between. And then came one of the funniest lines I have possibly ever heard. Thered been a bit of confusion of the number of questions in each round and then the Quiz man, quite seriously, announces “We’re a bit short on questions this week….so if you’ve got any facts please could you go to the bar”.

Walked back eating the rest of my pizza. It was a really clear night so the stars were out and really visible. Strange but just made me think that they’re the same stars that shine down over CowTown. That’s one of the few things I love about living in the middle of knowhere – the stars are so clear. The more you look the clearer they become, and you can see that the sky is just a very dark inky blue, not black at all. Just made me have a little whistful moment of thinking how beautiful it all was. And then it got a bit windy, and little white fluffy blossom things started blowing off the trees by the river as I walked back. Just more and more and more came down from the trees, and the final 100 yds back to the hostel was amazing – genuinely looked like it was snowing. So pretty and white, and clear and beatiful – quite “awesome” in the proper meaning of the word. Filled with awe. No jokes, nothing funny, it was just a stunning walk home.

Miles today:123
Total miles: 680
Location: Frankfurt, Germany
Cost of tonight’s accommodation: £19.50
Number of potnoodles I thought I had in the carboot: 4
Number of potnoodles I actually had in the carboot: 0
Number of times I’ve been asked whether I’m “part of the conference”: 11
Number of hours I stayed and used the free wifi in reception after I’d actually checked out: 2½.

Woke up bright and early and just enjoyed a lie in. The marathon runners clanged about a bit but I thought I’d wait till they were gone to get ready in peace. Room had an en suite which was nice and clean. Any bacteria present were probably overcome by the smell of wintergreen and passed out so I didn’t have to bother with shower flipflops this morning. Was pretty late down for breakfast but THIS is what greated me:

Could have skriked. I usually like my proper continental breakfast of rustic rolls and ham and cheeses, with yoghurt and museli. I can understand Orange slices at a push – but lettuce and cucumber? Really??

Hung round for a bit in disbelief hoping someone would spot me looking troubled and offer me at least a weetabix but no such luck. Went back up to my room for a little sleep to try again later. Result! There was a school party in so all ham and cheese laid out, and choc chip muesli. Had a few bits of orange slices just to show there was no hard feelings and then smuggled out some breadrolls so I could have potnoodle barm for lunch.

Spent a good couple of hours sorting this site out and archiving everything from last year and refamiliarising myself with how it all works. I had a little seat by the bar next to reception so I could see all the comings and goings. I just love people watching. Now I said yesterday I had a few people ask me whether I was “part of the conference” and it happened again this morning, but more so. Was all a bit odd, until I started half heartedly reading a poster on the wall opposite. It’s the National Lesbian Parents conference. And it turns out that apart from me, the marathon runners and a Belgian stag doo all the rest of the guests staying are “Rainbow families” as their poster says. I just don’t know how I didn’t click sooner – I’d just assumed that there were lots of women who were on holiday with their female friends. Friends who they like to stand very close to in lifts. I had the porter ask me, a bloke in the lift, random women who I don’t know whether THEY were rainbow or not – everybody in fact apart from the hot barman. Pah!

Sorted out my blog and then sat in the car deciding where to go next. In Europe there isn’t any Sunday opening, so shopping streets tend to be ghost towns. Didn’t see the point of getting the subway back into town so thought I’d use my little car water boiler and the bread rolls I’d bought the night before and have myself a potnoodle barm (that’s “barmcake”, a northern bread roll, for all those of you who live south of Thelwall viaduct). Now this is something I’d been looking forward too since leaving London. 10 minutes later the water was boiling away merrily and I went to get one of 4pack Chicken and Mushrooms from the boot. But they weren’t there. I definitely packed them,convinced I did – so I can only assume they’re either on Cath and Janes drive (I didn’t get a phone call calling me a dozy #&%€ so I’m assuming not) or lying crushed and covered in tyre marks in lane 43 at Dover ferry port. Must have left them on the car roof when I was faffing in the boot while I was waiting to board on Friday. Pah! Had to make do with a mug of hot chocolate instead. Not like they even sell potnoodles abroad. Well I tell a lie, last year we found a shop in Sweden that does, but that’s a bit far. Even by my standards.

So I left Copenhagen and set off for Frankfurt. Now this was recommended to me a couple of years back by my lovely friend Paulene Dickson so I thought this year I should visit. Drive seemed to take forever – just loads and loads of roadworks. For this section of my journey I was accompanied by Chris O’Dowd reading Fantastic Mr Fox, and Sunday Love (free with a long ago Sunday Mirror).

I’d phoned in advance to book my hostel which turned out to be right on the River, just 10 minutes walk from the city, and right on the edge of Sachsenhausen which is the old town. Here’s the view from the window:

Booking on the last minute is always a risk. You can either get the worse bed that no-one else wants, and end up sharing with the barman and a tribe of drunk sweaty Swiss knobheads (that was last year!) or you can strike lucky and end up with a higher priced room they don’t usually let out to lone travellers. They’ll rather have one person in a 4 bed family room with en suite than no-one at all. So luckily I managed to get a 4 bedded room all to myself, meaning – BRING IT ON – I got a bottom bunk! There’s always a chance someone else could arrive even later – but it’s unusual. That’s how I ended up sharing with that Witch last year in Munster.

So had a little mooch into the city and it was still light enough long into the evening. All the websites that said nowhere is open on a Sunday were fibbing – all the touristy places were – just not the big chain shops. Bought a few little souvenirs, postcards and treated myself to a posh ice-cream and sat in the City Square and did some people watching. There’s a load of knitted scarves drapped round the fountain, and more lesbians too. I think it’s a National Gay Germans week or something. Don’t know if the knitting is related to the gay celebrations – there’s all little tags with messages on them tied to the scarves but it’s in foreign so I don’t know what they say. I just do not have any intention of striking up a conversation in pidgeon English by sidelling up to a local and asking “Hello, have the lesbians made all the scarves”. Quite possible using phrases like that I could get myself mixed up in some Soviet spying circle by accident.

So had a mooch and walked back along the river bank eating a cone of chips. After my noon potnoodle disappointment I really did fancy a proper steak and chips kind of meal, but Germany has got a thing about Snitzel, and it’s never clear on menus what kind it is. And hey, call me fussy, but I’m very particular about my snitzel. I have also learned from previous trips that May is Spargel season. Spargel sounds pretty exciting doesn’t it? Like a magic delicious spangley Roald Dahl-esque type food. Oh no, its asparagus. It’s huge and white and so unappitizing looking. Bleeuurghhhhh! Snitzel and spangle. No thanks. So I stuck with a cone of chips and a quick shake of a Heinz sauce I’ve never seen in Britain.

So finally, that’s the end of day 3.

Had a bit of a freshen up (ok, that just means I wiped myself down with a baby wipe and put some lippy on) and went out for a wander.

The hostel is in the middle of a load of trees off the ringroad, with a little parking lot out the back full off campervans and motorhomes. Jam packed with them. Can only assume they’re full of people from “the conference” that I’ve been asked several times now if I’m part of. No idea what it is, but they all seem to have travelled to get here. On the way out there was a bloke struggling to empty his motorhome poo container down the foul waste thing. I think a wheel had come off or something, because it wouldn’t stand up straight and he juggling with the metal flap lid to the poo shoot where he had to empty it, while cursing and wrestling with the tipping huge container he’d dragged over with him. As I walked past he looked up at me with the pleading eyes of a man at the end of his tether. No chance mate. Just no. Sort your own shit. Literally.

Got the subway into the city Centre. Public transport abroad is something I’ve never done by myself so I didn’t have a clue which side platform to use. There was no map or info so I just plumped for the side with most people stood on it. Figured on an evening people would be going TO the city rather than away from it.  Good tactic that worked. No ticket machines on the platform and no conductor or barrier at the other end so it was free. Nice one.

Had a mooch round the big shopping area. In European cities the main shopping streets are often open til 10pm and the weather was still a nice summers evening. Found a Lego factory shop, and I’m not sure if you can do this in the UK shops, but there are pots of all the bits and you can make a you. So I made a me. Well I made two me’s infact. They’re in the car. I’ll take pics tomorrow. But I think they’re brilliant. Spent a good hour sorting through all the “accessories” box to find suitable things for my me’s.

Further down the street I could hear music so went to investigate and there was a live music concert going on, with a stage and outdoor bar, and little seating area. They were playing Mustang Sally and other blues RnB and soul. Found a hotdog stall and stood chomping bratwurst while listening and then they did a load of Motown and Diana Ross. By this point it was about 10pm and the shops were gradually starting to close, but people watching were starting to dance a bit and sing along. The band were fab, bit frustrating when they did the talky bits inbetween songs because I couldn’t understand them. But they sang with English accents which was strange! Had a good old boogie with some locals and we chink chinked our plastic wine glasses and sang along loudly. Not sure I looked quite the part clutching my Lego carrier bag and a pack of bread rolls I’d bought earlier but hey I’m on holiday – who cares?! 🙂

Once they’d finished the Diana Ross bit and were singing songs I didn’t recognise I made my way back to the station. The underground runs all night but it had been a long day so I was wanting my bed. The ticket office was closed and it took me a good half hour to figure out what platform I needed to get back. The hostel is so far out its not on the maps that reception give out (helpful!) so I really struggled. But with no-one to ask there was also no-one to buy tickets off, so I got home free too.

Walking back up from the underground I passed a fairground with a party going on, and music playing and people playing guitars and singing. Usually I’d have wanted to join in but was so tired I just needed sleep so instead I was just getting ready to curse them if I could still hear the noise from my room. Lovely music, but wrong time wrong place. On my way back through the hostel carpark I was greeted by what looked like a sewer explosion. Don’t what went wrong but camper man must have had a bad night with the poo chute. There was just puddles of brown sludge everywhere. If anyone has seen Oceans 12 where that baddy does the prancy dance round all the red laser beams I had to do something similar to avoid getting liquid turd on my new skechers. Favvered a cross between hopscotch and Michael Flatley. Just did not fancy the prospect of shitty shoes. I bet camper man regrets his choice of socks and sandles aswell now ha ha ha.

Back at my room and the two marathon runners and their sweaty clothing were all fast asleep so I had to find my pyjamas and get all my stuff sorted by torchlight. Dying know why but when you’re trying to do stuff in silence you can only go at about a tenth of your normal speed. Got all ready and clambered up onto my top bunk which was a feat in itself. It’s that point of hoisting yourself up and over the top when you realise you’re at the point of no return and the small metal brackets holding the ladder on had better take the weight of your lard ass being heaved up them. Anyway, they survived. Hostel tip number 1: Doesn’t matter how tired or in a rush to go exploring you are, ALWAYS make your bed as soon as you arrive. Was so glad I’d made my bed earlier. Got all snug and warm and then France’s version of Sally Gunnell started snoring. Snoring loud. Then I remembered my earplugs were somewhere buried in my suitcase. 😦 Realised they also left the window open that I couldn’t reach from my bunk so I could hear the music from the fairground party and people shouting outside. Was too tired to clamber down off my bunk and faff round trying to make no noise, but torn because I’m really grumpy if I keep getting woken up when I’m tired. I’m the end I just crossed my fingers and decided to do without them.

Today was a long day. I’d started off in England and driven through France, Belgium and The Netherland and now in Germany. So that’s it for day 2!

(blue dot is where I am, red whatzimajig is EUROVISION!)

Miles today:323
Total miles:557
Location: Copenhagen.
Cost of tonight accommodation: £24
Number of times I’ve used the subway: 2
Number of times I’ve paid to use the subway: 0
Number of times I’ve been asked by random men if I’m “part of the conference”: 3

Woke up bright and early at Cath and Jane’s to the noise of Finlay babbling away in his cot. He’s a very happy chappy, doesn’t ask for much entertaining and will sit amusing himself with a loofah or some other simple toy for ages.

Made the ferry terminal in good time but with it being a bank hol weekend I was really busy and so there were big queues so good job I didn’t leave any later. I’ve bought a little water boiler element thing that plugs into the car cig lighter so while waiting in the queue I had myself a pot of apple and cherry porridge and a chocolate. Brilliant eBay buy – was only a couple of quid from China. I’m not saying it doesn’t get so hot you could brand cattle with it, and I’m not saying I won’t melt a hole in the dashboard with it. But it does its job very well. Felt very satisfactory eating my warm fruity porridge while the gloomy people carrier families starved their whining children because the onboard catering prices where ridiculosly over priced.

Crossing was a bit of a rough journey but I’d remembered my travel sickness pills so I didn’t yack at all. I usually get a silly o’clock in the morning ferry, but this one was full of families, couples and school trips rather than truckers, stag doos and Wigan athletic fans.

Was a long long drive to Copenhagen – hope the tiredness was due to early morningness rather than distance, because some of my days will involve even longer drives so I hope I can cope. I waved Cath Jane and Finners off at half 7 and arrived at the hostel at half 6. I did the second half of Danny the Champion of the World, the whole of The Twits, The Enormous Crocodile and half of Bruno Mars before I got to the near enough to the hostel to do the “have to turn the stereo off so I can see better” thing. I got a bit lost with only a mile or so to go so that didn’t with. I know Copenhagen ring road pretty well now anyway.

Tonights hostel is a YHA one which means its usually pretty safe and clean. The kind that boyscouts stay in. It’s only down the road from the underground and surrounded by all trees so very nice location. I’m sharing a room with two French marathon runners and a pot of wintergreen. Honestly the whole room just honks, like that smell at Byrchall when you stood at the tuckshop by the boys changing rooms. Every spare wall hook, table, windowledge and chair is draped with a piece of damp lycra clothing. Not good. The one hanging off the window hook is actually DRIPPING and making a puddle on the window ledge. I’m hoping it’s been washed out and is water rather than sweat. Making me gipp just thinking about it.

Anyway, written enough for now. I’ll complete Day 2 later on.

Day 1
Miles travelled: 234
Total miles: 234
Location: Cath and Jane Babbage’s room (upstairs with en suite!), London-ish.
Cost of tonight’s accommodation: free
(tenner contribution to Chinese takeaway
fest)
Number of potnoodles in car boot: 4
Number of days I’ll be away: 13
Number of days accommadation I’ve actually booked in advance: 3 (just see where the road takes me)
Number of miles left to drive: approx
1000.

Shattered. Was packing til 4am this morning and up again at 7am as I had an
appointment en route for my mortgage
application. Which I won’t bore you with but will just say that due to the oaf at head office having sausage fingers when using his calculator I very nearly used up all my clean underwear up in one day. Muppet.

Noel is happily being looked after by my
lovely Auntie Julie and so will be feasting
on as many blueberries and brocolli
florettes as a hamster can eat. Got to be
careful typing that as predictive text
changes it to “gangster” which conjurs up
a whole different image. Not sure Julie and John would fancy Al Pacino eating all their vegetables.

Journey down was ok. Got lost in Telford
after only 33 miles which wasn’t the greatest. And I can’t find my way
anywhere in Dudley without starting off at
Russells Hall hospital so I can see why my
friend Jannine worries so much about me
making it to Copenhagen in once piece. I’m taking roughly the same route as last year, except Sweden was the next country along, so I’ve got a good general idea of where I’m going. ish.

In preparation for this trip I invested in a
Roald Dahl CD collection a few weeks ago
so listened to Danny the Champion of the
World all the way down. Found a load of
free Daily Mail and News of the World cd’s
at the back of the hall cupboard too so
brought them along. Should keep me
entertained for the long journey days
when all the radio stations are in foreign.
Haven’t even looked what’s on them but I
can see a fair few of the Daily Mail ones
being frisbee’d out of the car window at
some point.

The car has been cleaned too – inside and out. Just a bit more classy for when I have the roof down. Never a good look cruising along the autobahn with your hair blowing back in the breeze, with empty McCoys bags and Haribo wrappers being whipped out of the footwell by wild air currents and making a run for it. Nice thing about this year is I am getting better at packing light too. I mean, this year I haven’t brought the gas cooking stove OR the fuzzyfelt.

Thats it for my first day. I’ll get
http://www.roadtoeurovision.com sorted out as
soon as I get time. Off to sleep now. Have
to leave for Dover at 7am. I’m already
expecting I’ll miss the ferry. Just
shattered.