Alrite, photos from the last few weeks are now uploaded.  I´m in Madrid now, catch ya later.

FIESTAS DE SAN FERMIN
So there was a change in plans in the last few days. And I must give credit to an email from Nate for changing the plans. I had more or less decided against going to Pamplona for the Fiestas de San Fermin and Running of the Bulls, but after an email from Nate about exactly that, I reconsidered and decided there was no way I could be in Spain during the festival and not hit Pampolona.

So Sunday morning at 7am I set off on for San Sebastian by train. 12 hours later, I arrived. SS is a hour north of Pamplona, so I stopped off here for a good night´s rest. The city is impressive, although full of tourists. Two mountians form the mouth of a bay opening into the city, leaving a nice crescent shaped beach right at the foot of the city. Once the rain stopped on Monday, I tok a cable car up to the top of the mountian on the outer side of the city for some impressive views. After that made my final preparations at the grocery store, stocking up on food and beverages to save a bit of expense in Pamplona.

Arrived into a sea of red and white in Pamplona around 830pm. Checked my pack into the luggage storage - only it would have a place to sleep this night - and made my way out to find the encierro route. Walked the route from start to finish making special note of the potentially dangerous areas one would not want to encounter a 1200lb bull at. Recon completed, headed to the main square to chill out and finish off my eats and mix up some calimocho. Started chatting with a local man from SS, and ended up walking around with him for the next few hours. Watched the nightly fireworks in one of the parks, and messed around just about everywhere. Met a couple of Americans sometime around 1am or so, and took off with them throughout the bars and clubs, drinking calimocho and sangria and partying it up. Around 3-4am switched over to water to ensure all my senses would be in top notch come time the rocket went off at 8am signalling the start of the run.

At 530am set off for the street to stake out my location and get a bit of advice from experienced locals. My chosen starting point was at the Esfalta corner, a sharp turn the bulls have trouble making, leaving them to slide into the wall and any unfortunate runners. From there I would be able to see the bulls coming around the prior corner about 100m away. By the time 730am rolled around I had met quite a group of mostly americans, a few who lived in Spain. We started getting our game faces on, when the first of the pre-bull snags hit: The police cleared everyone out of the street, starting at the prior corner. Funny how now of the locals consulted bothered to tell us this. Not knowing what the deal was, the only real thought amongst the crowd was ¨I have to get back in¨. So off we went down the back streets to get to the start, then jumped through the fences to get back in the street. Alrite, all set. After clearing everyone out of the street, the police now let everyone back in. So back to the corner we went. Or so I thought....despite being warned about not taking photos in the street, I figured I could get one off as we moved out. Not quite. Snag #2: The police grabbed me and made me climb thru the fence and off the street. Again ¨I am not going to be in Pamplona and not run. I must get back in¨. Turns out another guy had the same dilemna. So we backtracked, found a clear spot in the fences, and climbed through and back in. 10 minutes and counting. Back to the corner. Adrenaline is pumping now. And then, Snag #3: Police must have recognised me and he came over and told me to get rid of my camera. Not again. Took out the memory card, and told him I would get rid of it. So I gave it to some man sitting front row. But the camera in my pocket. Turned back, looked around, and cop was gone. So I asked the man for the memory card and he gave it back. Tucked it securely away and left it at that.

At this point the sound of the rocket going off was a relief. Waited at the corner looking back until the frantic crowd led the first bull around the corner. Then I was off, as much as a sprint as possible in the crowd. Every look back at the bulls risked a violent colision. About 200m down the street I looked back to see the leading bull but 5 meters back and gaining. Darted to the side to a doorway, watched him go past and right behind him 5 more, nearly shoulder to shoulder. Ran out right behind them and took off for the Plaza de Toros, carefull to ensure there wasn´t a lagging bull cmoing up on me.

Entered the stadium which was full of spectors with another couple hundred runners. The bulls were prompltly guided out the other end of the ring. Was quite a rush to be in the stadium after having run with the bulls, given the history and excitement of it all. Met up with a few of the Esfalta corner crew in the ring, and exchanged cheers for having made it. A few minutes later they send smaller steers, yet still with nice enough horns, into the ring to chase people around and entertain the crowd. Darted around the first few bulls, then jumped into the stadium to relax and watch the spectacle of it all.

That all ended about 9am, and headed out with a few others to claim the pack and get a coffee before jumping a bus out of town. Had a look at the encierro photos before leaving, didnt have any hereoic shots of me with the bulls. But as I turned to leave I saw a former St Pat footballer I knew in Korea - Aaron from Florida. Chatted with him for a bit. Random.

Off to Vitoria at noon, and sorted out a place to stay by 2pm. Then slept til 930pm. Went out for a bit of food and a walk around, then back to sleep by 12am. The plan, as it was since I have to be back by 2pm tomorrow to pick up my concert tickets, was to take the 1040 train to santiago, arriving at 2009 tonight. Turns out it was all booked. As was the only other train heading west. To the net cafe to find a plan B. Sorted - train to Burgos and 0445 bus to Santiago, arriving 1pm. Went to the bus station, uh, booked up. Uh, plan C, "anything that gets me to Santiago before 2pm tomorrow". Alrite, to Bilboa and then from Bilboa to Santiago leaving 145am arriving 115pm. Ah, a nice and pleasant bus ride for 11.5 hrs. Perfect. Sign me up.

So thats where I am now, Bilboa, chilling out til departure. Hope to get some photos up next.

THE MOUNTAIN AND THE END OF THE WORLD

I´ve been in Spain for 10 days now and haven´t posted anything, so I´ll start off as I left my last post with some thoughts and observations:

- Spain was more or less a military dictatorship from 1930s to 1970s. Given that, its quite impressive what has been accomplished here in terms of social well being and economic development. Given that, many parts of the country, particularly outside the cities, are still a bit behind the times.

- Spain is composed of about 17 provinces, some of which are natural and go back years, others of which were created simply for governing. A few of these provinces, Pais Vasco, Galicia, Cataluyna, date back well before Spain and have notions of idendenpence much like Quebec in Canada. They all have their own variation of Spanish that is unique to their region. The Basques in Pais Vasco, known as the ETA and for their terrorist acitivities, is the most well known, established, and agressive. While much less than a majority in each region seek independence, the goverment has gone to great lengths to give them a bit of it. Pais Vasco is largely self governed, maintains the right of taxation, and remits to the national government a percentage of that. Many other provinces seek such freedoms. Much more to say here, but...

- As mentioned before, Spanish is only the official language. Here in Galicia, they speak it and Gallego. Needless to say, the Central American Spanish is a bit different.

- The political sentiment here is much like Portugal, but being able to read the newspapers and magazines has given me a sense of why. The reports are generally brief, not balanced in viewpoint, and only focus on areas that portray negatively. Some of the things I have read and seen have shocked me. For example, the Michael Moore film has been in the news.....and its treated more or less as an authoritative and accurate portrayal of American politics, Bush, and the wars. And the national TV station is government run, and, without a doubt, influenced. Quite shocking overall.

Alrite, back to my world. Spent two nights in Vigo upon arriving, and they were quite uneventful. Basically had some things to take care of, and needed a city to do it in. The city itself in nice enough, but nothing special.

On 3 July I went to Santiago de Compostela. As I might have mentioned, this was the endpoint for St Santiago on his pilgramage back in the 8th century or so. The catedral there, built in various stages over 800 years or so, is enormous and impressive. Each side has its own entrance and style of architecture, and the detail both outside and inside is incredible. So back about 20 years ago, the Pilgramage on the Camino (walk) de Santiago was a bit out of fashion and only 400 or so people per year did it. Now the numbers are about 400 per day pass various points along the path. So the town is full of people with walking sticks and clamshells who have just finished the walk, which takes about 35 days in its entirety. Anyway, spent 3 days there messing about, seeing the sights, and relaxing a bit. Hooked up with a nice place to stay for 15€ a night, so no complaints.

Set off for the coastal towns on Louro and Muros on Tuesday the 6th. Muros is a small historical fishing village, Louro a small town just up the road, both on the mouth of a river feeding into the ocean. Camped in Louro close enough to the beach to hear the waves at night. Walked about a bit on Tuesday eve, made it about 5km away and down a small road to the Ponte de Louro, where a lighthouse stands at the foot of two 250m mountians coming right out of the water. Had a thought.....so Wednesday set out to hike/climb the mountians. My gear: trainers and a bottle of water. Consulted a local out picking berries at the base, he said, sure, go ahead, climb it. No trails, no paths, no signs, but looked easy enough. And then.....the vegatation that looked innocent enough - anywhere from 2 to 8 feet in height, much of it thorned. The rocks - much more comfortable than the thorns, unless I had an unfortunate encounter in which gravity won against my balance. Along the way I had one casualty and one acquisition: lost the St Paddys day hat from Seoul somewhere in the thick of things - no chance of backpedalling for that, so it rests in peace for any Seoul Gael looking for a pilgramage; the acquisition was a 4 foot stick, which lucky for me was the toughest piece of wood on the mountain, and without which i would have been in much worse shape. Each bit climbed revealed more to go, and like an oasis in the desert, it also looked as if in 10 meters things cleared up a bit. Regardless I made it to the top, and have fotos to prove it, just not yet. Spent a good 30 minutes chilling out under the sun and enjoying the view. Then I figured, since I did the one peak, might as well do the other, about 100m away with about a 50m did in between. Once again, the oasis analogy. But I made it, and again, have the fotos to go along with it. Of course now I think, mission accomplished, head down, go for a shower and a beer. If only. Turns out going up was the easy part. Its hard enough to pick the best path down when everything looks the same, but I certainly failed in doing so. The majority of the path down, after getting by the 10+foot rock faces, consisted on vegetation so dense the outside world dissappeared. I alternated between doing my best Smeagle imiation and going under densest brush when there was a relative clearing underneath, to plowing straight thru it with my ever faithful stick, to walking on top of it, anywhere from 1-3 feet off the ground. If you can´t walk thru it, Smeagle yer way under it; if you can´t do that, then walk on top of it, if that doesn´t work, return to walking thru it. After what seemed a good long time, I reached a clearing enough to see the water below....and it didnt seem any nearer than at the top. Not wanting to stop for a moment, just kept on going til finally i was through. No damage except for a good number of small scratches on the arms, legs, and neck. The shower, dinner, and wine that night were all fabulous.

Needless to say, the following day I took it easy, messing about Muros for a while, then heading back to camp for eats and a quiet night.

This morning I set off way to early, 730am bus after packing up camp, for the End of the World - Cabo Finisterre, which is the western most part of Europe. From there the people back in the could see, as the figured, to the end of the world. The weather wasnt promising, clouds stirring and all, and the local that pointed me in the right direction from the town was none too encouraging. But off I went. 40 minutes later, and only a slight bit of rain, I arrived at the lighthouse. While a sunny day might have been nice, the low clouds limiting the view did add a bit to the whole end of the world thing. In the midst of the clouds, couldn´t help but think I was back in Seoul or Tokyo, where any view just disappears into the smog after a few hundred meters. Walked out to the point where they have a bronze bust of ole St Santiago boots (he made it here after Santiago). As there was a road going up to Monte San Guillermo, I set off up another mountian, granted this time on paved or dirt roads. Stumbled upon a great view amidst the clouds looking out to a beach below, and have some nice pics of that. Otherwise, just limited visibility in amongst the clouds. Back to town in time to retrieve my pack from the shop I left it before they closed for siesta. While eating lunch, the rain started to pour. Guess the early morning was worth it. Took the bus from there into La Coruna, where I am now.

I´ve had to reante twice on my net time, so that´ll be that. For now.

ON PORTUGAL & TRAVELING

After a month of traveling and leaving Portugal, I figured I´d change the plot here for a moment and spew forth a few of my thoughts thus far instead of telling what I´ve been doing. So here goes....

Futbol in Portugal: For people in the US it is be a bit difficult to understand the scope of futbol in Portugal, and many other places in the world for that matter, but I´ll give it a shot. Consider: its the only sport that matters, football, basketball, baseball, and hockey in one; tournaments are held only every four years; a country has to qualify just to make the tournament; you complete against other countries that in the recent past have demolished or occupied your country; the whole country cares, not just some. Its just impossible to compare the scene in Portugal, with the Portuguese and other country´s supporters, with any sport in the US.

Victory Celebrations: Massive amounts of people in the streets following each of the last three Portugal victories. Probably half the country is out in public I would guess. And no riots, no looting, no drunken escapades, and for that matter, hardly any police to be seen. Quite a contrast from the demolition and destruction occuring in any city that wins a championship in the US.

Portugal V Spain: Never knew that Portugal had such a deep rooted dislike for Spain. Something like Ireland England I guess. When I made an attempt at communicating in Spanish, it wasn´t well received. So needless to say they were a bit happy to send Spain home in the tourny.

Coffee: Coffee in Portugal (and much of europe for that matter) is to coffee in the US as vodka is to beer.

Economy: Much of Portugal is still a second world economy at best. Farmers working in their own small fields, taking the crops to a market, etc. Jobs there are hard to come by and most uni students dont have many options in their fields upon graduation. Apparently for teachers there is a 5 year backlog before one can get a job.

Perception of US: Of course I get asked all too often about the GW Bush, Iraq, etc. And 90% of those I´ve talked to, from Portugal and other countries, have a very negative view of US politics and policies. Of those, I´d only about a third have a decent perspective and level of knowledge to support their views. The rest only know the headlines and little more. Most are interested to know what someone from the US thinks, and if its like what they hear. Only a few carried their views on such things into disliking American people.

Traveling alone: The first 8 days or so I bounced around too much, one night here, two there, always on the go. No more of that. I´ve resolved to try to spend at least 4 days wherever I go, a bit of stability is a good thing and you get a better perspective of a place and people. The biggest downfall thus far to traveling alone is that, despite the countless number of people I´ve met and good times had, most days start back at square one, as the people you meet come and go.

My budget: Everythings on track despite the debacle with the camera. Its some good work to save a euro here and there then go blwo a few hundred by being stupid like that. Thus far, leading expenditures are, in order, lodging, food, entertainment, Euro tix, transportation.

Am up in Santiago de Compostela at the moment. Its the destination on the Camino de Santiago, the famous pilgramage of the Apostle Santiago from around 800AD or so, that, of course I never heard about before coming here. Will be here for a few then probably out towards the coast for a few. The south of Spain a bit roasty, with highs up to 48C, so am in no hurry to get down there.

BACK TO THE BEGINNING

So Portugal beat Holland in the semi finals and actually played well in doing so. I watched the match in a bar in Viana, and after set off for some food. The streets were empty as I walked out, and thought maybe this town wouldn´t go off like the others. Right. After eating, a mere 30 minutes or so, the main avenue was full from the train station at one end to the river at the other. So and it goes. Ran into the Aussies from the campsite, and ended up hanging with them for a bit. Wandered down the back streets toward the sound of the drums, and stumbled upon a little street party. Even got a chance to display my suberb musical ability by banging away on the drum for a good few minutes. Ended up closing the night out hanging out with some locals at a disco. The DJ was cranking out the typical beats, but the twist was a live drummer banging away with his hands, making something up to match the music as it went along. Great stuff.

The plan for Thursday was to take the train straight from Viana to Vigo, Espàna, but as it turns out the Spanish railworkers are on strike from 30 june to 5 july, so the trains are sitting idle. That left us, again run into a few of the aussie crew at the station, taking a train to the border town and walking over the river into tuy, spain, then catching a bus into Vigo. Messed around a bit in Tuy before heading off, nice enough town but nothing spectacular. A stroke of good luck in Vigo as the city bus from the bus station dropped me off right in front of where i had arranged to stay. Saved a bit of hassle. Messed about the city a bit before having a siesta and then watching the unfortunate tragedy of greece beating the czechs. So, as I said before, the first match of the euro is also the last: Greece V Portugal. Went out for a wander later on, and ended up wandering a bit farther than desired. Ended up meeting a guy from Venezuela while out, and we wandered out to a few bars for a bit. Have yet to speak any English yet in Spain, hope to keep that up for a bit.

VIANO DO COSTELO

Spent the day Saturday on the sightseeing agenda. The first place was the Palacio do Bolsa, which used to be the stock exchange/commerce center for the Port wine companies back in the day. Now its not much more than a impressive building that holds functions. Anyway, while waiting for the guided walk through, met a korean guy over for the tourny. Brushed up a bit on my Korean and ended up cruising around with him the rest of the day. Hit up a church on the same grounds as the P do B which Napaleon saw fit to use as a horse stable back in his romp through europe. Still in nice enough condition considering. Then across the river to walk through a port lodge, this being the only place in the world that, officially at least, port can come from. Had a few tasting afterwards and indeed it does have a bit more kick than wine. Last stop was the Torree do Dos Clerigos, a 76m tower built over the course of 70 years a few hundred years back. Nice views from the top out to the Ocean.

Went out to the fan zone to watch sweden/holland that night, and picked up a ticket for the Denmark / Czech game while there. Only wish I had known the supply/demand equation was a bit skewed and tickets were being given away at match time. Ended up stopping in for a pint at a bar at halftime, and didnt leave til after Holland won on penalties. Had a good laugh with some English, French, and Swedish jokers. Set off to the riverside square area where all the euro crowd congregates after the match. Had some good chats with people from just about everywhere, including some portugese locals, who seem to disappear into crowds of foreigners. When the sun started coming up I knew it was time to go home.

Alrite, woke up late enough Sunday, and called the phone number that had appeared in my pocket. Ah, yes, Sonja, who I started talking to after asking her for a pen. So met up with her before the game and got a ride to the stadium then chilled in the park until kickoff. Was suprised to see thousands of empty seats at the match. Czech won, and in such a manner that they are either extremely confident or arrogant, but given their results, id have to say the former. Went out again that night and met the best mate of the co founder of the st pats football team in korea. Spent most the evening chatting away with him as his mates.

Monday set off for Viana do Costelo for the last three days in Portugal. Got to the campsite near the beach a bit late as the bus schedules weren't golden. Small little place, but a 3 minute walk to the beach, so nice enough. Met up with some Aussies traveling Portugal in a motorhome and a few French, and after the security had enough of our antics, set off for the beach where we threw together a impromptu but impressive campfire. Good times.

Tuesday got my first serious sun laying on the beach, and definetly underestimated its strength, as i now have a nice shade of red on a good part of me. Gotta start somewhere though. Its Wednesday now and I am back in the town, staying in a pension tonight as portugal and holland play their semifinal tonight. Should be a good match, and celebration, once again, if portugal wins. Then Thursday its on to Spain, and my current iteniary has me going from Vigo to Santiago de Campostela to San Sebsebastion over the course of about 2 weeks. And possibly into Pamplona for the last days of Fiesta de San Fermin, or, more commonly, the running of the bulls.

MAS FOTOS

Added photos from Braga and from today´s walk thru Porto.

FESTA DO SAN JOAO & NOS SOMOS CAPEONES

Woke up the first morning of camping to the sound of rain falling on my tent. A quick look around assured me that everything was dry and my camping skills weren´t gone completely. Little did I know that I would awake to rain the next four days as well. Every day of camping, rain, except for the this morning.

Tuesday went for a bit of sightseeing in Braga. Way back when, the Iberian Christians set about recreating Jerusalem in their town so as to shorten the distance of the pilgramage to Isreal. The result is a stunning Church on top of a hill overlooking the town. Took the bus to the site, and decided against the cable car to the top and opted for the steps. 592 steps and a few buckets of sweat later, I made it to the top, and it was well worth it. The whole site was designed symbolically, with the zig~zag staircase at the top depicting the stations of the cross, and fountains on the way up depicting the sense with water flowing from the ears, then eyes, and so on. A great view of the city from the top could have been better had it not been for the ever present clouds. Back at the campsite, my neighbors, a man and his son from Holland, hooked me up with some BBQ for dinner, made even nicier by the pounding rain. Set off into town with them for the gathering of the orange prior to their match the next day. Good times out messing about with the dutch and the others mingling about.

Wednesday. The day of Festa do San Joao. Had a notion to go to the match, but opted instead to watch it on the big screen in the town square. Ended up chatting to a spanish man and his family, picking up a few good pointers for the travels in Spain. Holland won 3~0, and Germany lost, so the Dutch would advance. And they would party. All night. But despite their partying prolifics, couldn´t come close to the Festa. Imagine, a town of 150,000 or so, hosting a good 250,000, in the streets, the square, the park, anywhere. And for some reason, which no one seems to know, the main attraction of this party is hitting everyone and anyone on the head with a plastic, toy, squeaky hammer. You just cant imagine it until you´ve seen it. The 2 km main Avenida, full of people, and all you can see is hammers banging away on heads. And the accompanying squeaky sound that goes with it. Madness. Walked down and back up the street, having now acquired my own hammer, just laughing at the whole scene. After a few hours of this, figured I might call it an early night as it was 1am, so started walking back. The whole issue that arose here is my campsite is but a few hundred meters from the carnival, with music blasting, and hammers squeaking. Anyway, walking back, I get mauled by a group of 8 university girls, banging away on my head. After I took a pounding, they must have felt pity, so they insisted on me joining them, not really believing an American could be in Braga during the Euro, walking so down the street. So for the next 3 hours, messed about with them, including a ride on the FlipTop, just imagine, at the carnival. Then off to a sidestreet cafe for a beers and coffee away from the madness. At some point I was offered a guided tour of the city the following day, so lined that up alrite. Made it back to the campsite round 4 or so, and was certainly not even close to the last man standing in the streets.

Thursday hooked up with my aforementioned tour guide and cruised about for a bit. Experienced the mystery of Braga, as there is a 50m stretch of road, inclined slighty, where a car stopped and put in neutral with roll uphill. Aparently its been studied and theres no explanation. Also went out to the stadium, which is pretty impressive. Set off to the town square around 6, and got a patch of concrete not to far from the tele for the portugal~england match. The rest of the previous nights crew joined up, and by the time the match started, must have been close between 50,000~~75,000 there watching. The celebration was quieted early as England scored 3 minutes in, and it seemed destined to end that way until portugal drew even with only 7 minutes left. Into extra time, the first 15 minutes nothing, then portugal scored with about 10 minutes left. Jumping, screeming, yelling, singing, you name it. Could only imagine the scene in Lisbon or Porto, with 5 times the number out in the streets. Yet again, silenced by an England goal only minutes later. Penalties. Suspense. Nerves. First up Beckham, and, amazingly, missed again, over the top. One portugese miss put it even again, and into extra rounds. Finally, the seventh for England missed, and the portugese keeper ended it with the best penalty of all so set things off again. All the same as the Spain game, just a bit more. After some eats, went to the apartment of one of the girls and camped out for a birds eye view of the ensueing fireworks show, which was only delayed by an hour and a half. Nice show, although half the fireworks were lost in the huge cloud of smoke created. And that was that.

Am in Porto now, figure on staying 3 nights. Czech~Denmark play up here Sunday, so should be good times. In other news, I am now officially out of the Army as of 23 June, the prior being vacation days. And, more good news, got the rest of the money due me, so things are looking good. Except there will be NO more money coming in, just out. Also, sorted out the photos so the ones from Bali are now up. And I´ve gone 5 days now without losing another camera! Quite an accomplishment for me. Should have some more up this weekend as the internet cafe here is cheap and fully equipped.

DISASTER & PORTUGAL A-LE

The France Croatia match was well worth the effort of getting the ticket. The atmosphere in the stadium was great, and the Crotian fans had the French outnumbered by about 50%. France took a 1-0 lead off a own goal on a free kick by Zidane, and controlled the first half, which was sloppy and not too exciting. The Crotians came out on fire in the second, putting away 2 goals in the first 15 minutes. The French were struggling to regroup, and had nothing going for them until an errenant back pass was incercepted and put in for the equalizer. Croatia should have won it in the final minutes but their striker put it over the top after a tremendous effort to get in position to shoot. Good luck for myself overall, as in the two games, 6 of 7 goals were scored on my end of the pitch.

Into Aveiro the next day, to find no accomodations available under €50 for that night. Made a reservation for the following night, and left my luggage in the tourist office and set off for the night. The town was becoming more orange by the hour as the dutch fans rolled in for their game with the Czech´s the following night. After watching Italy-Sweden in the town, went off for a concert and fireworks show on the other side. Concert was less than stellar, but the fireworks stage right in front of an old factory and set to music was impressive. Spent the next few hours hanging out in the town square where the crowds congregated then off to a disco for the wee hours. Made it to the park for a few hours of sleep by half 5 or so.

Woke up at nine to realize the worst of fears - my camera was no longer with me. Along with an extra battery, 3 memory cards, and my usb storage drive. Devastating. Only thing I can figure out is that it was stolen from the disco, where I checked my day pack in the coat check. Other than that, nothing makes sense. So thats three cameras down in less than three years - Honduras, Korea, and now Portugal. Seems I might lose one camera in every continent. Nice work.

The whole town was filled with about 15,000 dutch fans by early afternoon, they must have had a good 8 hours of drinking and partying in by match time. The unlucky thousands without tickets gathered round the big tele in the fan zone to watch the match, and I was drowning in the a sea of orange in the midst of it. Seemed the perfect script was playing out as holland took a 2-0 lead in 20 minutes, but the czech´s had other plans, as they fought back and took a 3-2 lead, and held on for the victory. At which point the hangover seemed to set in on the dutch, a very distraught group they were at this point. The Czech-skees were making up for it, singing and dancing into the night.

Sunday set off to Porto were I got over the pain of the lost camera, and brought myself to buy another one. Some way to blow a few weeks worth of the budget. So to balance that out, I also bought a tent so I could sleep for €5 per night instead of €25. So should only take a month of camping to make myself even again.

After blowing the bank it was on to Braga. A enjoyable 45 minute walk with all my gear through crowded streets brought me to the campsite, where, once again, I find myself surrounded by dutch, who are quite experienced campers by the looks of it. Their set up certainly beats my one man tent with no accessories. Watched the crucial Portugal-Spain match that night at the outdoor bar/restaurant in the campground with my neighbors, go figure, a few dutch guys. A rather uneventful match was changed with a brilliant goal by the second half sub Nuno Gomes, and the Portuguese held on to beat Spain 1-0, which was made even sweater for them in that it sent the Spanish out of the tourny.

The party in the streets of Braga after that was ridiculous. The main street was filled with cars, waving flags, honking horns, and whatever else for hours. Those that werent driving were lining the streets and celebrating all the same. Took us a good 2 hours to wander up the street, usually in the middle of it, having a laugh with all those driving by. Made it up to the main square by about 1230, and the party there even bigger. Hung out there talking to the locals and hearing them declare Portugal ´´the best team in the world, ever!´´ If they manage to beat England, who knows what will happen, but I plan to be in Porto for that one.

Plan is to stay here in Braga til Friday, hopefully scoring a ticket to the Holland-Latvia match tomorrow. Tomorrow is also the biggest festival of the year here in Braga, so regardless it will be off the hook.

WINGIN´IT
AVEIRO, PORTUGAL

Upon wrapping up the last post, I set off on a rather aimless stroll and ended up at the train station in Coimbra. Seeing that Aveiro was but an hour away and the Czech-Latvia game was on for 5PM, I jumped on the next train out. Hoping to sort out some tickets, I set off. Before I could even leave the station, I had offers galore and picked up a ticket for €35, face value. Spent the afternoon in the fan zone as the czech and latvian fans cranked it up in anticipation. Arrived at the stadium, which is brand new, as they all are, to find my seat six rows from the field, between the corner flag and the goal. A few English lads ended up next to me, chatted with them during the match, and, will get back to them later. The match was excellent, one of the best in the first go round outside EvF. Being my first real football game outside of central america made it even better. Latvia, the 500-1 underdog, held strong against the Czechs, who are at 14-1. In extra time of the first half, their winger was sent down the line straight towards our seats, cut off his defender, and sent in a cross. The striker touched it in to set the Latvian fans off their rockers. The second half saw the desperate Czechs subsititute defenders for forwards, and increase the attack. Again coming towards us, they scored two in the 15 minutes to pull off the victory. The Czech fans, probably about 5,000 strong, absolutely lost it, and continued to lose it throughout the night. Parted ways with the English lads and headed back to town to watch Holland - Germany before catching the last train back to Coimbra.

Departing the bus from the stadium, ran into the same lads again, so set off with them to find a pub to watch the match. After the match, the town was starting to get a bit wild, so after walking 100m towards the station, i turned back and stuck around, figuring on the 6am return in the morning. Ended up hanging round til 430 before catch a few zzzzs at the train station. by the end of the night it was nearly six degrees of seperation, as in "how do you know the person sitting next to you". well, their friend was talking to a dude who knew a guy i was talking to who because he was with some girl i chatted with who knew a mate of the english lads at the match. yeah, anyway, talked to loads of portugese locals who were having a great time, and got the inside scoop on messing around in portugal, so hopefully that will help out later in the journey.

Only had time for 2 hours sleep back in coimbra before setting of to Lisbon to pick up my tickets for France-Croatia which i had bought thru ebay. was a messy trip, 6 hours in all, and left me a bit wrecked, so after watching portugal beat russia in the city square i went off to sleep to a chorus of cars horns blaring away in the night.

Thursday, i think, as its hard enough to keep track of the days, i set off for Leiria with my pack, a match ticket, and no accomdations, yet again. With no city map or inside scoop, i set off to find a place. 100 meters from the bus station, I found a room for €25. Thinking i might do better, i cruised aruond a bit more. 25 minutes and a bucket of sweat later, found another place wehre the manager told me everything in town was booked. Hearing this, I set straight back to the original pad and hooked it up.

Killing some time before Eng-Swiss at 5pm, headed up to a castle on a hill sticking straight up from the town. It was in nice condition, yet not renovated, so it maintained some character. From the top I could hear the Croatian fans singing and dancing, and for what its worth, they probably have the best following of any of the countries outside england and portugeuse.

Times out at the internet cafe, will add more later. I´ve no accomodations for tonight, so it looks like the pack with stay in the information office overnight, and I´ll find a nice patch of grass in a park here. Was able to sort out a place for tomorrow, so one night away from a bed and shower is no bother.