Part Two

The rest of the best, confusingly from the first half of the trip. The full set is finally up on my freshly pimped Flickr Pro account, though I've yet to add descriptions. Those will be forthcoming, along with my summer-long ambition to consolidate the photos from Euro Trip '04.
















Just like the colours in this one. Simply a street artist doing his thing at a skate/BMX park along the River Thames.






























Doesn't get any more British; Big Ben, the London Eye and a pompous orator. Note the single-decked bus in the background, I guess they're finally phasing out those death-courting, high-centre-of-gravity killing machines.













Posted this one before, but it's probably the best shot from all of Germany. It's Carsten, our German host, moments after his country defeated Argentina in the World Cup quarterfinals. The most vivid audio memory from that night was "Doo, doo, doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo, Deutschland!"



















Kind of mundane in comparison, but this is Carsten's street, unfortunately named Adolfstraße, at about 5:30 in the morning. Couldn't sleep, so I wandered around taking some streetscapes and thought this one depicted the average residential area quite well.
















Along that same walk, I came across a sandy football pitch bathed in morning light. Appropriate, I thought, given my reason to travel to Germany in the first place.

















Ah, Gelsenkirchen. Home to numerous run-down factories in the coal-and-steel heartland of the Ruhr, and on this Canada Day, thousands of subordinate English fans as well. This ruddy chap was busily encouraging the faithful throughout England's match against Portugal, which they eventually lost on penalties.




























English fan (ground) and Leo, taking in the misery of said loss.






























Church pictures are usually so static and boring, but I thought I'd use this one of Cologne's famous Dom to ignite a talking point on the decline of Christianity in the continental identity of an increasingly Godless Europe.




















'Would Fuck for Tickets' writes this brash German fan. His friend on the left seems to wholeheartedly support the plan.












Feels weird to end the commentary in the middle of the trip, but anyway here are Leo and I, DABs in hand, anxiously awaiting the semifinal game between the rhino-coloured teams. The beer was true to German form in that, even when drunk in frighteningly large quantities, it fails to produce a hangover. Thank god for the Purity Law.