WC2006: Gallows Humor

DERAG HOTEL AND LIVING, NUREMBERG (9:39am local time) -- Wednesday was see-the sights day, with "sights" defined mostly as a castle, a church, a dungeon and Marcello Balboa in the train station.

On the way up the hill to the imperial castle, we passed a couple of places explicitly marked as friendly to Brits, which would have likely been much better choices to view last night's match than that abysmal Fan Fest. Also, not as intimidating of an uphill climb as Kaiserslautern, and the rationale for a castle at the top of a hill rather than a stadium seems a bit more sound.

There was a youth hostel actually within the castle complex, which must totally suck if you're, ahem, availing yourself of all Nuremberg has to offer while backpacking across Europe and have to stumble home. Some guy was walking along the perimeter walls with a clipboard, appearing to count off the paces and measure the distance. Aside from the big stone walls and turrets with nice views of the city, there were also several lovely little gardens within the structure.

After that, we went to jail. An old, medieval jail, to be specific. The tour - beneath the mayor's office, oddly enough, and don't think Richie J. wouldn't love that as a negotiating tool - was given in German, making it more than a little surreal. We gave our own commentary, in the guise of a New York City real estate agent showing apartments, and then later with the obvious Dick Cheney-in-paradise jokes. I took what was probably a disturbingly unhealthy amount of pictures, but I maintain that's because the opportunity for funny captions is damn near limitless.

Somewhere in there, we stopped in the Hbf to make train reservations, and that's when we crossed paths with Balboa, whose hair is very, very shiny in person.