#sixth entry

[oh-thats-it-isnt-it]

Dream Entry #6

Someone broke the fucking simulation. Everything was glitching to the point that I saw the robotic parts. the moon looked like a giant rotating robot. Like it was multiple parts pushing in and out of the robomoon while the individual parts were also rotating and pushing in and out of the robomoon in square-ish shapes, kinda reminded me of Unicron. The robomoon didn't see me see it, tho Somebody lost their kid on the bus bc it like glitched away. one of the glitches reminded me of the inside of a computer with all its little wires and doohickeys. I saw Salma Hayek in Hawaii saving a bunch of ppl and speaking in their native tongue. Is she Hawaiian? The entire scenery of the world kept changing but worst of all the weather was insane. Tsunamis, volcano eruptions, hurricanes, that would wreak havoc and then disappear outta nowhere. Surprisingly, my house remained unscathed. Like it was a kind of haven or something. I was able to view outside and watch everything go berserk, untouched. it was scary to see, but dream-me didn't fear that anything would happen to me. I saw the skies part and go into itself, things glitching out of existence. A lot of pl just walked around like nothing happened. Guess those were the npc's. Well, that's all my brain can remember.

[danielxurbina-blog1]

7/22/2017

SIXTH ENTRY WOO. Okay daniel calm down. WELL I WROTE AN ENTRY AND I DELETED IT BY ACCIDENT SO NOW I HAVE TO WRITE IT ALL OVER AGAIN. Well we went to the beach and it was great. Long walks, long talks, great music and great friends to be with. The sunrise was amazing and we took many pictures and the water felt amazing! We stayed up all night so after the beach we headed on home and knocked out till the afternoon. I really wanted to spend the rest of my day with Camila at my house watching some movies but sadly she was busy. So I slept some more until it was 9:00 pm and we all decided to have game night. Game night was great because we played this dope game called "Dead Last" and it's kinda like mafia but sketchier. After game night we headed on home and that's the end of my day. Wow my entry before was so long and this is like the very short version. Sorry peeps don't have it in me to write all of that again. Well I'm out, see ya peeps.

[theresonlysofarnewmoneygoes]

1:57 PM, Poland time

Four minutes ago, one of my friends asked what time it was. Another told her to look at the clock at the front of the bus. I looked too, and then said that the clock isn’t right. It’s been off this whole trip.

“You didn’t see them set it this morning?” my friend asked me.

I checked my phone, and yes, this is the time. Almost two. Another one of my friends also just said, “wow, I thought it was eleven.”

We just got back from the Forest of the Children.

In Tarnow, there is a big forest. There, thousands of Jews were taken from a nearby ghetto and shot into mass graves.

But this is not special. Europe is lousy with these.

The forests’ trees are not as impressive as the ones in Treblinka, but they are prettier. Treblinka’s trees are closer to the evergreen, and the leaves don’t change colour, only shed. The Forest of the Children is coated with beautiful yellow and red leave, scattered here and there with green ones, browning slightly. There is a big monument with writing in Polish that I did not understand. It’s decorated with four swords on all side. At the front, at the top of the stairs, lay wreaths and candles with crosses. Many Polish citizens were murdered there, too. Rabbi H told us that the difference between our graves and the Polish ones is that ours are surrounded by a gate painted light blue, and theirs is white. I could see another difference, though: they’ve all got big marble plaques with names carved in.

There are a few mass graves for adults, and one for children. We started with one of the adult ones. We listened to a recording from a survivor from a grave, telling the judges at Eichmann’s sentence how she played dead until the Nazis left her and the bodies.

I’ve said this before: I’m a crier. And listening to the truly heart-wrenching story about this poor woman, this young mother who was forced by a Nazi to choose who would be shot first: her or her daughter…I didn’t cry.

Rabbi H is a smart man. He told us beforehand, just before entering the Forest, that he knew about our expectations for it. He told us to just let our emotions flow. Just let ourselves feel.

Then, after listening to the woman, he said to us, “I know you’re standing here in this terrible forest and you see trees and you think they’re beautiful. All you see is beautiful trees, leaves coloured in autumn, and it’s hard for you to connect.”

After a little while, we stood at the forests’ namesake.

The Holocaust memorial plaques all over Poland are written in Polish and Hebrew, and if there’s a third language it’s Yiddish, and if there’s a fourth it’s English. I read the English if there is and the Hebrew if there isn’t. I never bother with the Yiddish, even though I grew up in a very Ashkenazi community and understand more than the average Jewish teen does.

I can always tell that the plaques say different things in each translation; for example, if I see the word for Polish on a Polish plaque while the one in Hebrew talks about a pogrom aimed at Jews specifically. It’s also easy to tell by the amount of words.

The Hebrew was short at the children’s grave. It said that 800 children were murdered in a cruel manner. The word for cruel in Hebrew has a connotation of barbaric. I could see the Yiddish was longer, but as usual, I ignored it. Rabbi H came and told us how and why there was a separate grave. They didn’t separate the bodies, the separated them while they were still alive.

He them read us the Yiddish on the plaque. I understood right away what he said, and could imagine what the Nazis did. He translated to Hebrew for the girls and then told us what happened, crying.

What is written is that in that grave lie the heads of eight hundred Jewish children.

What the Nazis did was far worse than what I imagined and I won’t say it.

I cried so hard. My God, it was worse than Auschwitz. In Auschwitz, nearly all the children died immediately with their parents and/or grandparents in the gas chambers. A few seconds of severe discomfort and maybe pain at the end when their lungs struggle for the last time, but standing with their loved ones. A much, much more humane murder than the one that happened in that forest. Even taking into consideration the fact that they cremated their bodies (something Jews do not do and the State of Israel did to Eichmann’s body as the ultimate sign of disrespect) and mixed their ashes all together.

After Rabbi H and Doctor B told us more about the site and what we need to know from this and we sang and we watched the ceremony some girls organised while we were still in Israel and sang some more and I had finally, finally, finally stopped crying, our teachers gave us letters that our families had delivered to them.

My father wrote me a page in Hebrew and my mother two in English and one of my brothers drew me a picture. My dad’s was first. I got to the second line and lost it.

He said that I need to know that Europe as a whole is gorgeous and it had some very dark spots in its history.

I kept sobbing and I didn’t stop until after I had finished reading everything. There are some very important things about me my parents and family do not know, and some I guess they never will, but there’s a lot they do. I don’t know if they wrote what I needed to hear but they definitely wrote what they needed to say.

I miss my baby brothers so much. Especially after today. Jewish children are so rare and beautiful.

There’s so much more I have to say. But I know myself, and I think I’ll talk to Dr B first.

It’s 2:42 PM. And you know what? I, too, am a rare and beautiful Jewish child. I’ll think about that for now.

[lucanhigashi]

#6: My First Acting Job, and How I Saved The Orphanage and Defeated a Traitor

Another cave.  Fun.

There was some lone bandit just standing there dozing off, he wasn’t hard to knock out.  I must say, though, he had a pretty nice jacket.  Naturally, I took it.

The guy at the door asked me for my name before letting me in.

“My name is um...uh...Shadow.”

Ugh, “Shadow”?  What the hell was I thinking?  That’s so generic.  Sounds like something an angry teenager would come up with.

Whatever.  I’m “Shadow” now.

That lady with the gun at the bar was there, she challenged me to a fight to “prove my worth”.  I kicked her ass again.  Honestly, I’m surprised she didn’t recognize me from the bar.  And I had the very same sword, even!

This other guy with a scar on his face asked me to get him some fuses from the back of a drake-filled cave like some errand boy.  I don’t like this guy already, but killing those drakes was relaxing.

I talked to another lieutenant, Uptown Johnny, they call him.  He accused me of being a Seraph spy right away.  What do I do?

“Come on.  I’m too good-looking to be Seraph.”

Well.  That worked.  Now Johnny trusts me.  He even claims that Thackeray doesn’t like guys prettier than him in the Seraph.  I like Thackeray a lot, but I can’t say he’s wrong.  He tells me that their gang plans to attack an orphanage and a hospital in Divinity’s Reach.

Damn.  I’d better get back to Thackeray.

I reported to Thackeray, and he gave me some nice scale armor for my troubles.  We decided to split up.  He and I would take the orphanage, and Lieutenant Francis would take the hospital.

We rushed to the orphanage.  It was already burning, and there were crying kids outside.  I rushed in and saw all the gang lieutenants from the cave.  They weren’t hard to beat for, what the second or third time now?

Ted?

Big Nose Ted was here too, and he thought it was about time we had a rematch.

And his little rematch was in vain.  I beat him again.

Luckily, we saved the orphanage and all the kids.  Ugh, her again?  Commander Serentine showed up and smack talked Thackeray again.  What’s her deal, and how many sticks does she have up her ass?  She’s pretty, I’ll give her that, but that’s all she’s got going for her.

Thackeray suggested we check the hospital.  We rushed there to the sight of an entire crowd of crying bystanders.

Lieutenant Francis was outside.  He tells us he wasn’t able to find the bandits.  He’s a good man, but Thackeray claims he regrets sending the lieutenant alone.

I returned to Thackeray’s office, and he gave me a rifle.  Wow.  Nice.  I had fun training with Sergeant Soto back in Claypool, that was pretty nice.

Anyway, he thinks that Commander Serentine is actually behind these attacks.

Countess Anise has a plan for us.  Looks like she has a spell that can temporarily transform us into someone else.  She transformed herself into gun lady, Thackeray into burned man, and me into Big Nose Ted.

Of course, Thackeray complained that he had to be the burned one.  Hey, he still looks better than Ted.

We waited in the prison cell that held the actual guys.  Serentine came down to bust us out, revealing that she actually worked for the bandits.  Thackeray was right.

The Countess changed us back, and we were ready to arrest Serentine, but then she summoned, what, 20 guards?

Whatever. One guard, 20 guards, makes no difference.  The three of us kicked all their asses.  I remember taking down like 3 or 4 of them with one swing of my sword.

We locked Serentine up and Thackeray told me to get some rest.  He says he’ll get back to me as soon as they have something else for me.  So I did.  I took a break, got some new greaves, and wandered the city.  I rarely ever left Salma district before leaving the city in general, so it was nice to walk around.  Who knew the giant round wall had some nice sights in it?  Maybe when I can settle down for a bit, I can take a girl to some of these places.  That sounds nice.  But right now, my main priority is helping out the Seraph, and finding out what happened to my sister.

I’m off to wander some more.  I’ll get back when I’ve trained.

- Lucan

[journalthroughamericanlit-blog]

Existentialism

                                                                                              December 5, 1955

Today, I’m going to write about a goal I want to set for myself. It may seem crazy to others, but I think it’s just the perfect goal: I want to make a difference in the world.

The times are changing and I want to help be a part of that change. The world has been haunted by the memories of the two previous world wars and many people have different beliefs of how the world, or specifically our nation, should move on from these tragedies. But, I can care less about the ideas’ of others. Those ideas do not define or represent my beliefs. Instead, I believe that the world, especially the United States, must remember these events; we can learn from them and we can improve. The human race can improve themselves if our societal values change to be more progressive.

Yes, I want to make a difference in the world. I want to make a positive change. I’m going to change the world in the area of civil rights; I know that it’s my life’s purpose to ensure that everyone in the United States are given the same fundamental freedoms (Hemingway 40). Personally, I have been fortunate enough to always have access to my freedoms, but not everyone else can say the same. Discrimination and hate plague the world. I want to give my life meaning through helping eliminate the constant discrimination and hatred in the world. I want everyone to be considered equal.

I’m determined to achieve my purpose because I am passionate about civil rights. Although that I know that every human being is equal, that doesn’t mean anything unless I act on that idea. With my emotions, I will get other people to understand my point of view on civil liberties- the correct view on civil liberties. I’m going to make sure that my thoughts on civil rights become the seeds of starting civil rights movement. I believe that I can make achieve my purpose through becoming a leader in the civil rights movement; I want to be the protector of rights (Salinger 173).

Right now, I believe that my ideas and my thoughts on how to participate in the civil rights movement are well-thought out. However, I don’t know if they will always will be. I know that I might have to change some thoughts in order to meet the needs of others, but that doesn’t worry me. I know that I can change with the movement as well. I can become more than who I am now. I have so much potiental.

Today, I believe that I have fully matured; I know my purpose in life and I will live for it (Salinger 188). Before I knew my purpose in life, I was worried that I would never be able to have a meaningful life. But, I have faith that I will be able to fully participate in life and live authentically.

I know that my purpose in life is to help all American gained their much deserved civil rights. However, in the process I can help the world change for the better. So, I guess I just have to go do it now.

Elizabeth Nighingale

[kulturuni-blog]

Germanic Europe: Effective Leadership (1) and the German Symphony (2)

The leadership style from the Germanic Cluster is identified by its effectiveness in inspiring people around a vision, requiring high standards and holding core values so as to reach a clearly defined goal for which they work hard. Something that I witnessed in Germany is the way they stick to the plan and work focused until reaching it. They trust their leaders because they are visionary and delegate important tasks to their subordinates. There is a flat atmosphere and no hierarchical ladder, which allows managers to encourage inclusion in the company’s decision-making process.

Gannon’s metaphor of Germany quite describes the society characteristics of Germany in terms of social diversity and distribution, managerial styles and precision. Similar to the diversity of instruments in an orchestra, where instruments come from different heritages, so does the German society in terms of diversity. Germany was made up of hundreds of states before officially becoming a unified nation. The orchestra compartmentalization is also a good way to describe the German distribution of its people into well-separate and private sections where they can perform its functions independently. Lastly, as German as it sounds, precision and quality is an essential part of German style, as it is for musicians.

Does lateness affect business practices in Germany?

Germans are so stick to time and allow no deviation of it; they are pathologically punctual, which explains the availability of so many clocks on the streets. Germans want to be able to organize their world into controllable units. Time in Germany is managed carefully, and schedules and agendas must be honored as a sign of respect and seriousness. For example, trains arrive and departure most of the time on time and projects are usually delivered on time. Everything must be meticulously detailed in order to have full control over their actions and future. Arriving late in an appointment with a German party is extremely rude and can bring negative consequences to the business deals. Germans are extremely punctual, and even a few minutes delay can offend. When there are inevitable delays, one should let Germans know in advance with a satisfactory explanation to why one can definitely not be five minutes early for any appointments, whether formal or informal. Tardiness is frown on and might cause loss of business opportunities as Germans do not tolerate it. They usually do as planned, never more never less so one should keep in mind not to interfere with ther carefully premeditated plans. So tardiness does affect Germans perceptions on the negotiations and their counterparties.

Bibliography.

Germanic Cluster presentation.

Zudeick, P. (2012, September 9). Deutsche Welle. Retrieved April 8, 2015, from DW: http://www.dw.de/germans-and-punctuality/a-16430264

[hetalia-session]

==> Japan: Be someone else.

==> Japan: Be someone else.

London, England 3:00 p.m. BST

A gentleman sits on his chair politely, sipping his Earl Grey Tea in complete serenity. He set down his cup on a saucer and sighed happily, listening to the steady beat of rain outside. When does it not rain? All the residence have gotten used to it by now.

He placed his tea on the table before leaning back. Ah, glorious. This was the kind of peace he deserved. Not with that blasted America or that frog. They were much too loud. No, no. Only a gentleman like himself could enjoy such serenity. But the old golden days wouldn’t be a bother either…

The man patted down his trousers and stood up, determined to get on to business. After all, he was a gentleman. He made his way to his room and made his way to a computer. Sitting down, he restarted his desktop and was about to open a drawer. Before he could do so, his computer immediately sent off an alarm. He jumped in his seat and it took a few moments for him to calm down. He watched as the computer greeted him, a feature his former colony had installed for him.

"Welcome, ARTHUR KIRKLAND."

He would have put his official name, THE UNITED KINGDOM OF BRITAIN, but it was much too long. He decided to put in a human name he had used often in his long life as a country since it would be strange having the machine greet, “Welcome, ENGLAND.” His chumhandle, englishGentleman, only supports how proud he is of being a Brit with the fact He already speaks impeccable English. However, he has a strange interest in the arts of MAGIC, LITERATURE, and ROCK MUSIC. In his spare time, he EMBROIDERS and cooks wonderfully scrumptious food though some uncultured swine seem to believe HIS FOOD TO BE HIGH DANGEROUS, which is obviously preposterous. They are so difficult to understand, though they claim he is the DISTANT AND RUDE one. They’re the ones who are rude!

As he watches the screen light up, a chat almost instantaneously flashed on the side of his screen. He sighed and opened it.

—americanHero began pestering englishGentleman—

Oh, it was America. What did that idiot want? He should have started the game already. Maybe he was informing him of the development? Either way, like the gentleman he was, England watched the screen, waiting for a reply.

After several moments of getting nothing, England frowned and began typing.

EG: What do you want, you idiot? EG: Well? I have better things to do than entertain some hobknocker who is too busy stuffing his face with hamburgers to start this silly game. EG: It’s already unsatisfying enough that I have to cooperate with this stupid idea of yours. EG: Your stupid ideas are always so bloody ANNOYING all of the time. EG: It’s highly unfit for a gentleman such as myself to be associating with this tomfoolery.

He ground his teeth in frustration. What was that blasted America thinking? Thinking nothing, of course. Even as a child, that former colony of his was running around like a headless chicken. Never thinking. All action.

CA: Dumb Limey

England almost jumped out of his seat. His fingers fumbled over the computer keys, typing a reply.

EG: BLOODY HELL IT’S THE ALIEN! CA: It’s Mr. Alien to you, Limey. EG: HOW IN THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU GET INTO THIS CHAT? EG: IT SAYS AMERICA IS CONTACTING ME CA: I found some ways around the system that allow me to participate in other chats. CA: It’s no big deal. EG: IT IS A BIG DEAL! EG: AREN’T THESE SUPPOSED TO BE PRIVATE CONVERSATIONS! CA: They weren’t private conversations. CA: In truth, no instant messaging is private.

By now, England had calmed down a bit. He sat back, took a deep breath, and returned to the chat.

EG: Bloody hell… CA: Anyway, I needed to contact you about the game. CA: America is busy. EG: Busy doing what? Stuffing his gob with those greasy burgers? EG: With those horrible versions of my chips? CA: They’re called French fries.

England frowned and his two bushy eyebrows furled together like two yellow caterpillars. That blasted frog…

EG: They aren’t even French! EG: And why call them French fries? EG: What has that frog ever done for America anyway? CA: He helped with his independence.

England started coughing violently. The corner of his mouth trickled blood and he felt faint. He continued hacking a couple more moments before it stopped. Moaning from the nausea that overtook him, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth before going back to the conversation. God, he wished he had brought his tea with him.

CA: Hello? Are you done ranting? EG: I’m bloody fine. EG: Just make me cough up blood. CA: Great, you’re done. CA: Anywaaaaaaaaay, CA: America needs you to help him start the game. CA: He needs a server player and my diagram had you connecting to him. EG: What diagram? CA:

EG: The bloody hell, why am I connected to the frog? CA: Because I knew it would piss you off. EG: You idiot, a gentleman like myself does not deserve treatment like this. AH: dude you really gotta calm down EG: Finally! EG: Where have you been?!? AH: chillax dude i was just gettin a snack AH: so just sit back and im gunna do my magic AH: stop being such a buzzkill

England’s eyebrow started twitching furiously.

EG: “Chillax.” “Dude.” “Gotta.” “Gunna.” “Gettin.” EG: You’re murdering the English language! EG: No wonder Mandarin is the most spoken language in the world and not English! AH: dude AH: not important AH: we got to get started on this game EG: Fine! Then get on with it! AH: haha yeah about that…

How did he know that America was going to pull a stunt like this right before the game started? God, that blasted idiot.

EG: Oh bloody hell, what did you do? EG: We haven’t even started! AH: i kinda messed up my disks EG: Well why not get more? CA: I only made sixteen. Two for each. EG: So you ruined both of them? CA: Actually, they will be used for different functions. CA: One will be used as a client and the other will be used as a server. CA: America is going to start with the client disk. CA: Limey, you have to put in the server disk. EG: Don’t call me Limey! EG: Fine, I’ll do it. EG: Which one is the server disk? AH: probably the one with the server label around the middle

England opened up his cabinet drawer he had previously was going to open. He took out two clear disk packs, one titled SBurb client around the middle, the other SBurb server. England placed both next to his desktop and returned to the chat.

EG: Oh, alright. I found it. CA: Now just put it in your computer.

He picked up the server disk and inserted it into the desktop. After a few moments, a black window popped up with the words searching for client. Confused as to what to do next, he unenthusiastically returned to the chat.

EG: Ok, I put it in. EG: It says searching for client. CA: America will be your client. CA: Once he can use his disks. AH: hehe EG: Well then go fix them! EG: What did you do anyway? AH: cover them in grease

England could feel a vein on his forehead throb. He slammed on the keys angrily.

EG: YOU AND YOUR BLOODY HAMBURGERS! AH: IM SORRY I CANT HEAR YOU OVER MY FREEDOM EG: OH YOU SHOULD GO CHECK THAT THEN EG: YOU DO HAVE FREE BLOODY HEALTHCARE, RIGHT? AH: you sicken me EG: No, I believe that’s the hamburgers. AH: AT LEAST THERE EDIBLE EG: MY SCONES ARE PERFECTLY FINE! EG: AND IT’S “THEY’RE” YOU BLOODY GIT! CA: Please, ladies. CA: You’re both pretty. CA: Except for the Limey. CA: Now back to the game.

England couldn’t take it anymore. These buffoons were an insult to his gentlemanliness. How did America become this way after being such a sweet child?

EG: I’m not tolerating any more of your shenanigans! EG: You, alien, don’t speak to me again! EG: America, go clean your disks! —englishGentleman ceased pestering americanHero—

England sighed and leaned back on his chair. “Best of the British* to me… These idiots.” He rose from his chair and walked out of the room. England had to prepare after all. His forgotten tea must be waiting for him, probably cold by now too-

A loud thump came from upstairs. England tensed up and equipped his PISTOLKIND. God, he loved this thing. Carrying around guns had never been easier. England held it up and started approaching the stairs. As he came up to the first floor**, he looked around cautiously. What was going on?

A door opened behind him and England spun around, pointing his gun at the culprit. He was surprised to see a little boy rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"S-Sealand?" He stuttered, lowering his gun. The little one growled back at him with annoyance. "Blimey, I forgot you were staying over."

Sealand stuck his tongue out at him. “You’re such an old geezer.”

England could feel his head throbbing again. “Bollocks, I’m not old! I have work to do so don’t bother me.”

The kid frowned at him. “Fine. Can I use the telly***?”

"Just don’t fry your brain like that blooming**** American." Sealand ran downstairs and England could hear the telly changing several channels until one was settled upon.

"OOOOOOOOHH, WHO LIVES IN A PINEAPPLE UNDER THE SEA*****."

Oh blast it, it haven’t even been started and he was already brassed off******.

(*Means good luck in British slang **First floor in British is Second floor in America ***Television ****Another word for bloody *****Spongebob Opening ******The British way of saying pissed off)

Japan: Examine room <== | ==>

[sarahseuropeantravelblog]

Sunday 22.09.13

Dachau is a concentration camp close to Munich, it also happens to be the first concentration camp that was ever opened. Thats where Kev and I went to today, Topdeck had organised a bus to go to Dachau, and seeing as we were in Germany, we thought it would be a good idea to go. 

On the bus ride there, the tour leader Blake went into even more detail then I have ever heard about what happened at these camps. Of course I knew they were terrible, everyone does. But I didn't know the extent of what happened to the millions of people killed across Europe in places like this. It was very sobering.

The first thing I noticed was the gate leading into Dachau. In cast iron it has 'Arbeit macht frei' or 'work makes (you) free'. Then straight as you enter the camp, it hits you that hundreds of thousands of people died in the very same place that you are standing in. 

Walking forward more, you being to notice how big Dachau is. In front of you is the old Nazi office building, now turned into a museum, the fences are lined with guard towers, though apparently there used to be twice as many.  Along the ground for hundreds or meters are outlines of buildings where the victims were made to live, and where many died. 

Dachau was making me feel incredibly sick after being there for only 10 minutes. I got so angry at what was done there, and seeing where people were murdered was becoming too much. I persevered, and went into the museum. I had to pay respect to all of these people and couldn't leave so freely when they couldn't. A movie was playing in english, so we watched it. It was all about how the Nazi party began and the book burning and the burning of the Reichstag in Berlin, then continued on and had footage of life inside the camps. This was making me more upset with every passing minute and I just about ran out of there to be sick, but I couldn't do it, I really did have to see this through for those people. 

When the movie had finished, myself and Kev walked towards the end of the camp, where the people were made to work. The rest of the camp was in complete silence, all that was making a sound was the bell at the end of the camp. It was so eery. 

We stayed for a while longer, then slowly made our way to the bus and to Thalkirchen. 

After calming down, and sleeping for a bit, Kev and I headed into Munich and got some dinner. After such a sobering day we though we would head back to Oktoberfest and walk around, seeing as we had only seen the inside of a beer hall the previous day. This was probably the best thing we did. Honestly this place was amazing at night. The atmosphere was incredible and full of energy. There is a big statue in the same area as Oktoberfest is held, it has heaps of stairs leading up to the top, so we sat there for about half and hour and took in what we were seeing. I would absolutely suggest going to Oktoberfest if you ever get the chance. No other festival in the world could compare with this Bavarian celebration.