We slept in good and proper on our first morning in Pula. We ambled around, going for a swim, a bit of a walk, bought some groceries (bread, eggs, bananas, milk and wine).
In the afternoon we drove over to the hostel to use the Internet there. Getting out of the car we figured it would probably be safe enough to put the Aussie flag back up on top of the car (it sits inside a window). Less than two hours later when we came back, it had been snapped off! This was seriously disheartening to the both of us – why would someone go and rip off the flag!

Later in the evening we kicked back on the couch and snoozed while watching the first game of the night. After the game we went to dinner at the same place as the night before, making sure to order nothing the same, except the complimentary schnapps. Mark and I had a fantastic time this evening. We laughed and reminisced (what little had already happened) and thought of people and things back home, and made a great time with each other.

The son of the people who own the guest house had offered us the previous day to take us out this night, saying if we go around 10pm he can take us to a party that’ll go until morning. We eagerly accepted, but sought him out as we were coming back from dinner to say that we’d like to watch the end of the second game before going out. He was already pretty wasted so it was no surprise that when we came back down after the football that he was gone (off his face gone, as we confirmed the next morning) and didn’t even answer the door.

So then it was up to us to find our own party. No worries, we hadn’t had any trouble previously. We headed into town, parked the car where we guessed was something closely resembling action, and wandered around. The place that looked most promising had a hefty entry charge, and everywhere else we went there didn’t seem to be anything much going on, and people rudely stared at us as we went past too.
After about an hour of this we left the city quite frustrated and almost disgusted.

I had a terrible sleep that night, but was at least amused by the first non-email contact I’d had with my girlfriend since leaving. She was in the USA leading a summer camp, but this night was away from camp and getting quite sozzled. At least someone found a decent party!

We woke late the next morning, missing breakfast, packed our gear and shipped out bound for Pula. On the way we saw some beautiful views of Rijeka, but kept going without taking photos for some reason that escapes me and would have been quite pathetic anyway I'm sure...

So we rock into Pula with no idea what to expect or where we might stay. We stop off at a tourist information stand where the curt lady told us the directions to the youth hostel - just follow this main road straight on until you get to the beach then turn right.

Somehow we got lost going straight on, and within 10mins we're well out of Pula and passing through another nearby small town! OK then fine, we turn on TomTom and keep driving. When TomTom boots up we follow the turn it tells us to take, and find ourselves on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere.
Not to be foiled and not to admit defeat we defiantly follow the road to its end, ignoring further instructions from TomTom (telling us to turn down non-existant roads anyway) and found ourselves on the road that we took out of town.

By black magic or common sense or dumb luck we found the Youth Hostel. Booked out. OK then, let's use the Internet to find addresses of other hostels or boarding houses. This came up with nothing, it was quite disappointing really.
Right, let's drive around then. A short drive away we find a guesthouse (normal house with a small sign out the front saying "Zimmer Frei" in a couple of languages), and there's even something available, but for some reason Mark's just not interested.

Still driving around, we stop off at Hotel Pula to check if just maybe there might be anything free. We're in luck, there is one room available. 100 Euros. We gag and leave.

Across the road is another guesthouse. We go in to check it out, but it's a double room and we don't really feel like sharing a bed for a few nights.

Around the corner, yet another option. At this one the lady tells us she's full up, but says there's another house nearby and she can come with us to show us. Driving down the road she waves to her mildly amused husband who's just now walking up the road. Nearby we're back at the previous option, bah. But wait, one more chance a few doors down.

Bingo! We've got a winner, an attic room (penthouse we prefer to say), with everything we need, brand new gear and a patio with a view of the ocean! Sweet, we're booked in for three nights.
The people who own it are great, they invite us down for coffee out the back, take us for a short walk to the beach and point us in the direction of some good restaurants. We take the advice and have a top dinner at one of the places, but only after watching both games.

Walking past the car in the morning we were quite surprised to find a parking ticket! A friendly local told us to pay for it at a Post Office, which we did on our way down to the river where we took some sweet photos of the castle and citadella by day, with Luiz.
Luiz was a decent guy, but taught us one important lesson: lock your young girls away from Brazillians. He openly quoted to us "How old is old enough? If she can cross the street on her own, she's old enough for sex". No wonder Brazillians girls are known for sexual prowess, they've been practicing for 8yrs longer than anyone else.

With that, we left for Zagreb, and stopped along the way at a town called Nagykanizsa (Hungary: your country for weird language and impossible place names) to watch either Japan and Brazil or Czech and Italy. We found a place that had a nice big flatscreen on the street and plenty of empty seats up front, and both games on the one screen! Wonderfully satisfied, we settled in, and ordered beer and pizza.
20minutes later the power goes out. Unbelievable! We wait around for a bit to see if it'll come back on, but it's no banana, so Mark waits for our pizza and I head off down the road to see if there are other options. Not too far down I find one where the girl says they also have a big screen and yes can turn it on the football. Great, back down to Mark and we swap roles - he takes our stuff up to the new place while I wait around for the pizza and finish my beer. But before the pizza comes out Mark's back. Apparently there's no broadcast!
Shocked and dismayed, we sullenly dispatch of our pizza and get back on the road, to Zagreb.

Entering Croatia, we had an Aussie flag sticking out the top of the car, another large one draped across the front dash, and of course we're wearing our jerseys. The border police found us most amusing, and asked where we were going. When they heard we were hoping to watch the game on a public big screen in the main sqaure of Zagreb they were surprised and warned us to be careful. Hmm....

Our first go at a hostel wound us up on a dirt road, so we scrapped that one and went on to find another one that looked decent, and also had available beds and a fair share of Aussies to boot. Great, a quick settle in and then on the tram to the main square.
We're waiting on the side of the main road for the tram and getting lots of bemused faces, friendly laughs, thumbs up and tooting of horns - our chests swelled up with pride, and we were further heartened by the chat on the tram we had with a bunch of high-school age boys who were quite cool.

We arrived in the main sqaure pretty early and dressed up like this:

Not long later the square was chockas - looking like this:

Mark and I were a bit nervous.
Luckily we found a few other Aussies (who happened to be staying at our same hostel) and about half a dozen poms (that's never good news...) and we all hung together. Before the game, and especially while Croatia were ahead the people round us were quite friendly and shaking hands, telling us how game we were and all the rest. We weren't afraid to let out a cheer and a chant, we sang the Aussie Anthem loud and proud, and the pommies went fairly balmy as they tend to do. Half time was a little hairy, we gave a rousing Aussie chant which ended abruptly when one of us was narrlowly hit with a bottle. That settled us down pretty quick.

Well we all know the final outcome - 2 all, which mean Australia went through. We were simply ecstatic, but let out a half-hearted chant and then went very quiet, quite wary of how the mood of those around us had changed. All good so far. Next thing a TV crew come over and encourage us to make some noise, so we cut loose! Chanting and screaming and whooping, we let them hav it! Then the sky tore apart and it rained bottles. Well, sprinkled maybe, but still bottles. We shut up again and ran across the road/tram lines to where there was a contingent of police standing.

Here we were slightly safer, and really it should be said that the majority of Zagrebians were really nice. One very large Croatian bear (it was more unusual for him to be human than hibernating) came up to us and said "Hey! Australians!" at which point we were poised to soil our durps before he continued with "PHOTO!!!" and we collectively sighed with relief and posed for him.
At the other end of the intimidation spectrum was a quite small fella who came up to me and said "Hey, Australians!" at which point I offered him my hand to shake. This was the most insulting thing I could have done, as he was here to taunt and start a fight, not to be amiable. And the group behind him looked pretty dark about it too. He gave me a mighty shove, which set me back all of 3mm I think, so I turned my back in his face (to hide my strange mix of trembling and sniggering as much as anything). At this time the police came over to us to talk with one of our group who was fluent in Croatian.
Soon later we were all ushered onto a tram - already fairly crowded before our contingent of a dozen Aussies/Poms and 4 or 5 cops. Just before we pulled out the same weedy Croat came up and tried to get on the tram, but he was kept out by the police officer stationed at the door, so as we were leaving I thought it entirely appropriate to blow him a few kisses and watch him explode.
We were instructed to leave the tram at a stop near our hostel where we noticed a police 4WD had been following us also. We all walked together to the hostel, we sang "For they're jolly good fellows" for the cops, and went inside for the merry making.
I offer you this photo as evidence of evening's outcome. Note the only men in colours are Mark and I who are also waving flags, right at the back. Crazy.

Drinking games ensued, which somehow tapered into singing Disney theme songs and being told to shut up and go to bed by a tough looking "woman" with more hair under her arms than on her head. We eventually did.

As a nice postscript, we later found out Mark had his photo published in the paper:

Not long later we woke. Our mates the hostel owners told us Kasha had come last night and waited for us. We felt bad for missing her, but left our e-mail addresses and returned a book we borrowed from her before hitting the road southbound.

Driving with the Carpathians far on our left we made for Slovakia where we stopped at Zvolen and found a pub to watch the football at. We were also treated to one of the hotest and nicest waitresses of the trip so far.
Slovakian toilets are weird. Well this one was. I pushed the button to turn on the lights, and found the only toilet in the men's. It was in such a tiny room that you couldn't stand infront of the toilet and have enough space to get your pants down and sit. So, thankful that noone else was around, I had to perform all this on the side of the toilet halfway out the door and then pivot on the seat. Also, whoever put together the room must have been a posture freak, cos you can't lean forward on seat or you whack your head on the toilet paper dispenser. And as I'm sitting there pondering all of this, the button I pressed for the lights pops out and next thing I'm sitting in the world's smallest toilet in the dark.

On the road again and we made it to Budapest at not a bad time, but got really badly caught in traffic. It was unbelievable, it wasn't a normal traffic jam because after sitting stopped for 5mins there was still no sign of movement. Not one. Literally a car park, but only in our direction. We later found out that G. Dubya had arrived in town, which I guess means an automatic shutdown of the place.
We made our way to the first hostel address that we had, but after driving past it a couple of times we couldn't see anything remotely hostelish about it, so we went on to the second address, where we were having the same problem until two very tourist looking girls went up to the door. Turns out there was a hostel there and they were staying at it, so we followed them up. The place was small, to the point where we mistook someone eating at a bench in the kitchen to be the receptionist behind his counter. When we did find the guy running the show, it was like he was in a dream daze - he was bewildered that we were able to be inside the hostel without him having let us in, and amazed that we would like to stay there. They didn't have beds anyway, but we sat down on a couch next to a cool Brazillian guy called Luiz and watched most of the Netherlands Argentina match. He told us there were beds at the hostel he was staying at (it didn't have a TV so he was here) and after the game we walked over with him and booked ourselves in.

We walked back to the car, admiring the city, then drove the car back to the hostel and took a wrong turn on the way. Next thing you know we're driving across the main bridge, and infront of us is a large statue lit up, and to our right is a massive lit up palace, and to our left are more massive statues on the top of a hill. We were completely and utterly flabbergasted, it was amazing and gorgeous. We dumped our stuff at the hostel, and the three of us and Luiz went out for a drive. We stopped at the citadel (the hill with big statues) and took photos of the night. So fantastic!

Big day.

We started out going to Auschwitz. There are two main camps you visit - Auscwitz 1 and Auschwitz 2 called Berkinau. By mistake we drove to Berkinau first, and were appalled by a young bloke in the parking area who came to wash the windscreen, then demanded money. I thought Mark was generous by giving him 5 Euro, but he wanted 15! I went to get out of the car to give him a serve but his mate came over and said it was alright. Unfreakingbelievable.

We soon discovered out mistake and drove over the Auchwitz 1, bought a guide book and wandered around. We went into all of the main blocks and most of the others. Rooms full of personal effects and hair gave scope to the scale of this camp. Rooms showing living conditions showed the dying conditions. We saw the prison within the prison, with a firing squad wall next to it and cells inside where people would suffocate, and others where 4 people were kept in a room too small for one person to lie down. We saw the gas chamber and crematorium that was mostly disassmbled (by the Nazis when they new they were being overrun) but what was intact was equipment designed and built with the purpose of being efficient at killing many people.

Back over to Berkinau which is just massive. A train line goes down the middle, at the end of it all the passengers got off, were sorted into those who could work (30% or less) and those who couldn't. Those who couldn't were marched straight into an underground area where they were told to take off their clothes for a shower, then they were crammed together into another much smaller room. Lethal gas was injeted for 15mins or so, and after it cleared men came in and brought the bodies out one at a time, shaving the hair (for a nearby textile factory) and pulling gold from tooth fillings before putting them in a furnace, one at a time.
There are ruins of the two gas chamber/crematoriums either side of the two platforms at the end of the train line and an international monument betwee them. There was some light rain on us when we walked past it.

We spent about 4 hours between both camps. It's an experience that is hard to write about so soon (even more than week!) after.


Heading back to Krakow we ignored TomTom's directions and followed signs (having been fooled by TomTom before into driving down dodgy back roads), but this time it was the wrong thing to do again, as they took us through a dozen villages and behind many a tractor.

Into the main square where we thought we'd be able to watch the Poland Costa Rica game, but there was no big screen! Jeez. Oh well, to a bar!
After the game we went to Dominium for dinner (it was quite good) then back to the hostel for a shower before once again going off in search of night life.

Wandering down the square I could have sworn I heard someone calling my name (in a funny accent). I turned around and sure enough, there were Greg and Stuart the two guys who left their party to show us around a couple of nights earlier! They call some mates (girls) and we all go out clubbing once more. It was a top blast, we hardly even realised the time was flying, and only eventually returned to the hostel at 5:30am.

We took the liberty of sleeping in, seeing as we were the only ones in our room. By the time we got up and had breakfast we were ready for another snooze, but our mate Kasha from the previous night had the day off for some random reason (the kids at school all decided to not show upor something...), so she volunteered to take us for a tour around Krakow.

We saw the old university, St Mary's cathedral with its gorgeous altar and colourful insides, Florencian(?) St and quickly walked through the strangest and most beautifully decorated restaurants I've ever seen, which was there. On to the Pope John Paul II window, along the oldest street in Krakow, and up to the castle where we had lunch before going into the cathedral. Pretty trippy to walk through the crypt where kings of centuries ago were laid. Even the guy who discovered Australia's largest mountain is buried there! (It's actually pronounced Kovchusco or something). Lastly, down below the castle to the mythical dragon that breathes fire whenever a virgin walks past... must have been on the blink though...

Back at the hostel we saw the end of the Saudi Ukraine gam, and all of Spain and Tunisia, then headed out again. A place called Dominiums was recommended to us by the Aussie we met the other night, but it was closed (again) so we just returned home and crashed.

Today we left the known quantity (ie, I'd been there once before haha) of the much loved Prague, and ventured onwards into what was the great unknown of Poland, and Krakow specifically.

Getting out of Prague was a bit of an ordeal. With TomTom not being hugely accurate, we (ok I was driving) took a wrong turn, and to do a u-turn and get back on the original road took us 20mins!
There were some gorgeous places along the way - so picturesque you just have to stop. Green rolling hills with quaint towns all along the way. Nature's visual hangover cure.

The border police at Poland had perhaps not seen Australian passports in a while; they certainly took their time looking us over. But soon enough we were through, and hooning down the road to get to Krakow in time for teh Aus/Brazil game, before running into a horse and carriage on the highway! It's a crazy place is Poland.

We found Krakow, and a place to stay, and went for a wander through the old town square to find a bar from which to watch the game. No Aussies around at all, but we soon ran into two Brazillians who actually turned out to be one Brazillian and one Pole wearing a Brazillian flag. Together we found a bar and became more interesting than the game itself to the locals who thoroughly enjoyed our antics. At the end, a group of girls came up and asked for a photo with Mark and I. Gotta love these Polish chicks.

Back to the hostel for a bit, and the hostel owners invite us out to the balcony for a BBQ with him and a couple of friends! Quite gernerous really, we'd just wandered in off the street that evening and already he was shouting us beer and food.
We had some fun with these guys, including lots of cross-language misunderstanding and even some cross-sexuality confusion when the owners (who are gay Poles, what else can you say), wonder out loud (in Polish) if Mark and I might also be (we were both wearing bright yellow jerseys, and laughing a lot together). Kasha (our new best friend as she was) soon alerted us to this, despite them telling her not to, but she did it in a way they didn't understand. Mark and I left pretty soon after that.

Left and went into town where we were going to meet our Brazillian mate at a club called Prozac. Turns out he wasn't there and we didn't like the place too much, so we wandered across the square looking for other options when we were stopped first by some poms who wanted to tell hear us say how good Brazil were, and then another couple of blokes who took us under their wing. One was a big Polish bloke, the other an Aussie, and they'd just then wandered off from another party for a brief moment to buy some food (even leaving a beer on the bar). But plans change, and next thing we know they were leading us all around trying to find a decent late night bite, and then on to a club where there we were promised no end of gorgeous Polish girls.
And right they were! There are gorgeous Poles for every appetite, from nymphs to amazons, and here was a great cross-section. Cheers to those fellas; Mark (especially!) and I (abstinantly!) went home more than satisfied, and quite exhausted.