Soaking in Berlin

Berlin caters to every taste. Trying to sample all the good places in one night is just impossible. The other option is to find yet another monster-decorated bar, rest your head comfortably to the table and just let the atmosphere fill you up.
Now the trip is coming to an end, we're on a ferry, getting our stories straight & synchronized and wondering how long it will take the swelling to pass.
Let the before and after -pics (maybe coming later) be a warning to you about the satan of the booze (fin: viinanperkele).
Lots of time to do some calculations here. One impressive figure is 60 liters;
3 riding days in Croatia, maybe a total of 15 hours, consuming maybe something shy of a liter of water an hour. Say 12 liters. Multiply by number of Seagulls, you get 60.
That is the amount of sweat absorbed by our boots, leathers & helmets. In Croatia alone.
Now picture all that riding gear stuffed under the beds in our small, unventilated cabin on this ferry.
And maybe you should send a thank to the deity of your choice that you dont have to sleep in that cabin.

most popular pasttime in Berlin Warschauerstrasse

is polishing the white parts of your sneakers with a white pencil eraser. One eraser per 4 guys. You just dont get a pair of 150€ lenkars (fin:lenkkarit) if you dont save by sharing.
Came to Dresden yesterday, an exhausting hi-speed autobahn 500+ km, and to Berlin today.
It is a well known fact to those that know it well, that Berlin is the Döner capital of the world.
Actually it is speculated that the Türkische spezialitet was invented here and then exported to Mediterranean.
(if u're wondering who was the inventor, i can give a small clue that his name begins with Kim)

how to feel like a cosmopolitan -

and a beyond-help alcoholic at the same time.
If while sitting in a taxi you try to peek at the landmarks in hope of getting a clue of what city you are in, you might've been 2 too many cities or had too many Wiki Wacky Woos in the city u've b:n living for the first part of your life at (do something w your life, will ya?).
Me, I just feel like (dancing) going to sleep now.

alpine roads and semi-succesfull fixings

Yesterdays delicate fixing almost succeeded and almost all of us rode today almost hangover-free the transition to Bratislava.
A practical tip for the day after delicate fixing: You know you probably need to sleep 2-3hrs more in the morning if you get dizzy and a vertigo by watching someone jog around the track-and-field running track under your hostel window.
To my very dear friend SR I would like to say that no animals were harmed during our trip. And all events and persons are purely fictional and have no resemblance to any person, living or dead.
This is the story I'm sticking with, all the way to the pearly gates.

Wiki Wacky Woo - dos por uno

in Ljubljana. Arrived yesterday, having ridden only umbes 150km. Saw on the Inter Web that there will be buckets of that wet stuff coming down today all over the alps and here, too (so true, now looking out of a taverna window in a shopping mall). Thus, decided to stay in Ljubljana for two nights.
Yesterday found a bar decorated with skeletons that had a 2-4-the-price-of-1 -offer on all cocktails for all night. They had no dancefloor but the crab-dance needs only that much space. The dance might be refining since this was the 1st time there were two people filming us. All rights reserved. Do not copy or re-distribute. Tumble dry in low heat.
Anyhow, the Wiki Wacky Woo is a cocktail in that Pr'Skelet (or something in that general direction) that has 8-10 different kinds of booze poured with free hand. With a generous free hand. By an extremely efficient barmaid.
If you are one of us (the men from the Booze Hill) you know how valuable that is.
And in that bar you can sleep on the bench if the Wiki Wacky Woos are stronger than you. We have 1st hand information on that.
Today, have been doing rainy day activities like bowling and karting. Along with postponing any looming hangover.

So far, postponing has succeeded way ahead of the schedule.
Kids, dont try this at home. We have the Official Consulate Stamp.

We're not Kims (bow you must to his name) down here. Not even Gods. So our turbines are in a constanst threat from the direction of the pelicans.
The president already has at least some sparrows in his by now...

Honorary Vice Consul of Finland in Split

Forgot to mention, the President (not to be confused w Mr.President) is now also a vice consul of Finland in Croatia. And we have the papers to prove it. With the most official stamp. The prelude to this is that Hese lost the registration papers of his bike, and got the Finnish consul (actually his wife) to stamp a faxed copy of the papers.
The good thing is that now that he has the signed paper, most of it is blank. Tomorrow we probably have a stamped, official paper saying that the President has a legal maximum speed of 276km/h & a permit to smoke any hallucinogenic substances.
This is the hotel in Opatija, by the way.

earning travel money on the way to Split

Succesfull Friday evening activities in Split yesterday. Started gathering respect already on the bus on way to town. Rami took a guitar from an elderly sailor and we entertained the locals by singing Hallmanin Pena & Suljettu Sydän. Earned us 2,5kn. They love us here, and we love them back. See the performance.
In Split scouted a good open-air disco/bar and, as you might've guessed, did the crab dance again. This time with a hint of Greek flavour. The show was a brave one, since we were the 1st ones on the show-off dance floor. Can tell Split is a good place since some people were actually cheering and joined us.
The hot night came into good use drying the clothes when got back to the apartment, since some of the night's dancing for some now very unclear reason, took place in the swimming pool of the disco.
The ride north today, to Opatia, was agony as usual. At start, an unfriendly stone building attacked the Hayabusa's right front blinker. The temperature still 35C, and the unbelievable piece of crap metal they have labeled Benelli, is unable to do more than 110km/h on a motorway without spilling the coolants. And the hangover didnt help, either.
A high-speed encounter with the local wildlife resulted in a hornet finding it's way into my leather pants. It started stinging me some 10km before arriving to Opatia, and was still hanging in my leg by its poisonous arse once i got to the hotel.
Wonder if the very understanding and lovely girlfriend back home would've believed if the bugger had stung somewhere higher up and i'd come home with a sort of throbbing red sea-cucumber in between my legs.