We woke up confused and belligerent from the night before. The time could have been 6 am or 6 pm, we’d have no way of knowing. Flashbacks from the glittering haze on the streets filled our minds, making us wonder how we possibly walked through the labyrinthine center of this far away German village, the remote fogs from the Black Forest ever encroaching, ever engulfing.

Anyway we got up at like 11 am and said goodbye to Elif and Matthias, and headed over to Tobi’s for breakfast, as he so politely asked us to do the night before. It was there we heard some of the hidden stories from the night before as well, some grotesqueries I will keep private for the sake of those involved. But the real joy was hearing these lurid tales while eating Mr Leppert’s homemade bread, which was incredible. After breakfast, as we were making our way out the door, Mrs Leppert put a hand on Josh’s shoulder and said, as best she could, “If I’m ever in America, I stay at Josh’s house”, which was hilarious and wholesome in one.

Then we were on the road. But not the road home. No, that would have been too easy. We were right on the border of France! What did you think we would do? Strasbourg, baby! We needed escargot and butter for our little tummies as soon as possible. Unfortunately, since this particular Monday, October 3 was a German national holiday, celebrating the unification of east and west Germany, the entire German-Franco border must have been thinking the same thing. The city was absolutely polluted with human beings. But we forged on. Oh, we forged on.

Man, I’m just gonna say it: we were out of sorts. Parking was unbelievably difficult and I’m pretty sure we illegally parked in a hospital lot. But we pushed through, saw the cathedral, had some escargot and steaks with garlic and butter everywhere, and finally stopped at a french supermarket on the way home, where I promptly escar-diarrhea’d in the nearest bathroom and I’m not even remotely ashamed. Finally, home at 7 pm, we were able to rest, Vici and I on our featherbed, Joshy on his floor bed, and all through the night, snores and whistles and dreams danced about with the October wind.

Tuesday, October 4

Schnitzel.

Wednesday, October 5 – Friday, October 7

One day of rest, that’s all we afforded ourselves, but damn it we were intent on leaving sexy corpses if it was too much. Ireland was waiting.

Oh the Guinnesses poured, their frothy nitrogen head gleaming from every glass. We saw the Factory, stinking up the city for miles with malted barley and hops. We even had one of those faces in the beer things.

We had amazing food along the way, too. Everywhere we went they had incredible hot wings. I did not expect this, but my god did I indulge. And the nights? I think you know how those went.

For real though Dublin is a great city. I could have and should have gotten dumber and drunker. And my tip would definitely be to go during a thurs-to-sat-night window. We did a wed-fri window, but I feel I could have gone really hog wild if we had had that saturday, where Temple Bar red-lines. In the hotel bar under our room we met an Irishman and his ladywife who also happened to be American, and this guy told us that next time, we have to party in “the liberties”.

“You’ll think you’re about to get mugged, but go into Larkins, you’ll have the party of your life.”

I figured out later, or at least I’m assuming, that he meant a place called the Lark Inn. Next time, my friend, I’ll see you there. Also, when he saw me chasing my Guinness with Tullamore Dew, he asked me “are you sure you’re not Irish?” which again, like the pizza peel thing, stroked this throbbing ego I’ve been carrying.

When we weren’t parading around the streets, in between bars, we actually saw some really cool stuff in the day. For instance, here is a place called Howth.

That last pic may be my favorite photo I’ve taken this year. That man down there had cajones a poor little boy like me can only ever dream of attaining. He saw that sign, and the unceasing jagged rocks as the only entrance to the water, and he threw his hawaiian t-shirt over the brush and went anyway.

We saw the ‘long room’ at Trinity College, went to some other church, met a dog, and had our final dinner at The Brazen Head, Ireland’s oldest pub. I almost wanted to get drunk again, but I remembered that our flight was to take off at 6:55 am, and we couldn’t afford to miss it, because we had a Bundesliga match (Mainz v Leipzig) to get to.

Saturday, October 8 – Monday, October 11

One week since Casino night. How is that even possible? We dragged our sorry asses to the Dublin airport at 4 am, and in a hazy fugue state found ourselves sitting at home after blacking out the entire journey. I seriously don’t remember that flight or getting on it.

Once in the door, we set our little timers and got to the good work of getting some shut-eye. Then it was on to the game.

We got scarves, we got beers, I hocked down a Feuerwurst and we yelled in the standing-room only section as the teams settled for a tie in the end. We grabbed our third major

Schnitzel.

of Joshy’s trip, and hung out at my place listening to Tobi tell stories about living in Kyrgyzstan, which is a landlocked country in Central Asia. It’s bordered by Kazakhstan to the north, Uzbekistan to the west, Tajikistan to the south, and the People’s Republic of China to the east. Its capital and largest city is Bishkek, and it has a mountainous terrain. Almost all of this is completely new information to me, absolutely none of it is necessary context for the stories Tobi told us, and I 100% just pasted all that in from Wikipedia, just now.

I won’t steal the man’s stories, for they are his to tell, but they were honestly shocking.

And that was that. Sunday we did nothing, watched movies, slept an insane amount. Then monday I took my boy to the airport and watched him fly away. Almost as if he was back on that cliff at Howth, the wind blowing so ferociously we thought we might end up as shooting stars escaping the very orbit of our lives. If only. If only. (Video below)

See you tomorrow,

Nick