JTNein-return to ze motherland

"Have you packed everything in your case sir?" *GULP* It's 4am and I'm standing at the check in desk at Bristol airport... an unusual setting for kicking off a Jimbotours as for the first time in 9 years I haven't awoken mildly hungover at Highbury Gardens in East London opting to travel direct this year.  This news I feel hasn't been well received at JT HQ - they are not fans of change nor breaking with tradition.  Why do I have this sneaking suspicion?  Well... one cryptic post on this very blog earlier this week and a random package arriving at my house shortly afterwards which now resides in my hand luggage and for the first time in my touring career I find myself preparing to lie to the check in clerk.... "Yes... All packed by yours truly..."  technically not a lie. You see Jimbotours has always been shrouded in mystery it's part of the design that has kept us going for near on a decade and as such having to let me know our destination a day or two in advance rather than a minute or two before boarding I believe has got the mischievous juices flowing in our Jimbo... hence "the package". Shuffling abaord the familiar budget airline I'm racking my brains at what sits within my hand luggage stowed neatly above my head.... Custom made Lederhosen to fit in with the German natives? The blue print for the next 10 years Jimbotours? Johnny O'Donnell? No one's seen him in years on a JT... Stevie B's dirty Return Of The Jedi undies? Or my worst nightmare.... Some form of German wild goose chase designed to have me trek around West Germany to punish me for breaking with tradition?  I only skipped a walking tour last year and my punishment for that far outweighed the crime in my humble opinion (see last year's final blog) My speculation is ultimately wasted... for as always on these trips I am but a passenger on Jimbos masterplan. Sit back & relax.... Oh and no I don't want a fucking charity scratch card! ***The above was written at Bristol airport... The following was written live on scene in Germany... Genuinely**** I arrive in Germany.... find the nearest quiet spot and open the dreaded package....   My worst fears are doubly confirmed as I open "the packge" a cryptic wanker letter AND Lederhosen... The bastard.    In short I must chuck on my local garms, order a shot of Jager, upload onto the website (see for yourself) and then and ONLY then will I be given further instructions..... Joy. 1 hour passes.  No instructions.  Jimbos phones off.  Suddenly this now tipsy Lederhosen dressed knobhead is fearing he is the centre of the world's biggest wind up.  Enter a Lederhosen cladded Stephen Brankin..... Steve like me is somewhat confused with the mornings events having received similar instructions.... when we are instructed to make out way to Frankfurt centre and O'Reillys bar where a barman would provide us new instructions..... After a very awkward interaction with said barman enter Jimbo.... let the tour commence.  All this pre 10am... Gonna be a hectic weekend. Frankfurt be gentle with me.... I'm a middle aged father these days!  Jimbotours 9... Let's be having you!  Wish me luck.... Shauny G

"Shauny WAKE UP! The train leaves at 9.50 so we need to move!" It's 9.36, I'm busting for the loo, Stevie B is still snoring and we've still got to navigate the German ticket machine... I gave us 66/1 at making that train even though it was next door.  The good news for us was that the train was late a JT German first... this was however not such good news for my bladder as time restricted even the most humble of morning routines... had I have backed us making the train the whip would've been flush.... After our tour meeting the evening prior and the subsequent agreement to head to Stuttgart Jimbo laid out what he expected us to find in the latest of many German JT stops as we nestled into our 90 minute train journey.... As it turned out we were en route to Volksfest which is essentially where many Germans go in favour of Oktober fest which is dominated by many Brits on the piss which clearly we aren't!  Now given we were short on sleep as a result of a combination of a very late night and Stevies snoring we were slightly worse for wear but with the lure of local ale and maybe a sing song we decided to chuck our gear in the hostel to the moodiest of hostel desk staff and make our way on the tube to the what I had presumed to be a reasonable sized gathering of Germans set out for a afternoon jar.... when we arrived I remembered we were in Germany and Ze Germans don't do things by halves and they love getting dressed up! I can just imagine a group of old German fellas sitting around eating a pork knuckle and smoking a cigar back in the day and arguing about how they could make this place as big and best that it can be.  Well if that debate was ever truly had they nailed it.  This purpose built beer heaven is unreal and has everything from the biggest beer halls we've witnessed to a log flume.  Everything in the place is setup so that you can enjoy the experience as much as possible...  where you would dread the thought of having to go to bar at an event like this in England those old fellas agreed to take the drama out of the equation and just let the happiest bar waitress in the world go fetch them for you.  The other thing is that this place is HUGE.... think Alton Towers on the lash.   Getting into the beer halls is not an easy task and the locals seemed willing to queue forever (I'm talking hours) to get in.  When I asked one of them how it worked they said many tables are reserved long in advance so what tables were spare you had to wait for someone to leave before you entered... From the outside you can hear the singing and it sounds like people are having the time of their lives so here's the thing why would you ever leave???  Even though these things are ginormous you can't account for the thousands of German patrons decked out in their best traditional dress gasping for a beer. As such we opted to head to the outdoor area and having spotted the space from a spinning bar we took a seat directly in front of the band figuring this would be prime real estate once those kids gave up on the queues. We were correct.  These boys and girls love to party and everyone drinks beer... amongst literally thousands of people there isn't a rosé spritzer in sight - world class.  It felt like we'd blinked and before I knew it we'd been there hours and the disheveled tourers that wanderd into this place had been replaced by a group of merry chaps conversing with the locals and standing on the tables - thankfully this seems to be part of the game in Stuttgart as keeping Stevie B sat down is no mean feat....  In short Frankfurt and our hangovers are a distant memory.   Given we've yet to check in, shower and Steve was still in his infamous NFL regalia we decided to give up the seats and make our way back to hostel for a quick turnaround and return to see what Volksfest looked like once the sun went down.  Our hostel is a testament to what travelling has become these days for many backpackers... more Hilton than Fritzels dungeon.  We met our poor co inhabitant who locked eyes on us and instantly knew he wasn't getting any sleep tonight and headed back out to my new favourite place in the world. Arriving back we were a different group entirely compared with the who we were when we arrived earlier that day... maybe had something to do with the game of spoof and a bottle of Jager on the train.  We picked up from where we left off and hit the various bars all across the festival.  The truth is though Jimbo wasn't going to be able to let himself head back to East London without getting in one of those beer halls.... "Leave it to me lads - I'm gonna have a word with doorman and slip him a 10er"...  I was stood about 10 meters from this ill fated exchange and Jimbo having been on the beers most of the past 48hrs isn't exactly on top blagging form so the resulting look on the door man's face was a picture moment.  All I could work out from my lip reading was "NIEN!" - quite ironic given this tours title.  When Jimbo returned I suggested we just duck the tape and leg it into the drunken masses... worked a treat and the whips 10€ better off... result. The beer hall is everything we'd thought it would be and before you can say 'Prost' Stevie is back up on those tables.  I've never seen so many people hell bent on beer and only beer in one place. Mingling with the locals and all round just taking in as much of the place we head back outside swerving the doorman.  I should note now that our esteemed leader looked slightly worse for wear and as Shauny mutters the possibility of a late night sausage in a bun Jimbo vanishes.  Stevie and I being the team players we are grab grab a snack and get a taxi rather than scour the land looking for Jimbo presuming he's off to see more of the sites solo (he in fact fell asleep on the tube and was awoken by a fellow drinker at the end of the line).  Jimbo returned to Steve and I playing a game of I can snore louder than you and fortunately was let in the room by our room mate who as you imagine was chuffed with the situation all round. So 9 years down and another 2 dots on the map and what do we know??? 1. Germany is faultless in its ability to get you fed and watered with the best you can hope for. 2. Everything works over here... From buying a train ticket to setting up the best beer drinking establishment on planet earth they nail it every time.  I strongly recommend coming to this beer festival thing if you didn't gather that already! 3. The people are great.... sure there's the odd moody one but have you been to London recently?   All round they are great race of people and love having thr craic with us. And finally.....If you ever receive an unknown package from East London do yourself a favour and return to sender. JT10 - what an achievement that'll be. Over and out.  Shauny G.

Just wanna dispel a few myths before I begin.1. Youth hostels are not full of youths (albeit we are a group of slightly overweight chaps heading towards middle age). We shared our room in Frankfurt with a couple of guys who were probably school friends with Hitler) one of the old boys had to get up every half an hour for a leak.2. Not all German trains are always on time. Our one was 5 mins late - although they did make it up plus the ticket inspector also offers a waiter service.One thing that is still true is that it's very hard to knock Germany. When I arrived in Frankfurt you are immediately hit with the gentle wafts of pastry hugging freshly grilled pork from the always excellent street vendors. I headed to a shit Irish pub to meet my companions who had thoughtfully dressed in customary German clothing. From there it was a walking tour which took in the main sights and lasted twice as long due to Steve making innuendo's about everything the tour guide said much to the annoyance of the group so much so that he was close to being pushed off the bridge in the river main (learnt something!)Although Shaun only lasted an hour (big improvement from Bucharest) of the tour he did himself proud and was well rested for a nice on the town and the biggest pork fest meal known to man.Frankfurt had been cool. I held a meeting with the lads at 7.30 to discuss our movements tomorrow. Choice was stay in Frankfurt or get the train to Stuttgart for the biggest beer festival outside Munich. Stuttgart won.Here's to stop number 31!East. Oh yeah. . . . And frankfurters aren't from Frankfurt - there from a small town 30mins away. Fucking Marketing people!!