10k vs. The World Cup - Part I


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Europe » Germany » North Rhine-Westphalia » Cologne
June 8th 2006
Published: June 9th 2006
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Sexual ChocolateSexual ChocolateSexual Chocolate

Sexual Chocolate!
It took a while, but I think I´m finally "balls-deep" in the World Cup (no pun intended).

Touching down in Cologne this past Wednesday, I was working on my 53rd failed attempt to call my host and friend, nowhere to be found for the always-elusive airport pickup. When you dial a wrong number or get an automated voicemail in Germany, the German message is basically the same, at least to my Deutsche-challenged arce, so I couldn´t tell if I was dialing the area code incorrectly or if they wanted me to deposit 2 more Euros for the first 5 minutes of my phone sex call.

But right when I was about to hit the road with a "Will Blog for Bed" sign, the travel gods apparently sent their own, as I caught a glimpse of a "Mr. Juan Cifrian" printout being held up by what seemed to be a large, German limo driver. The illegitimate third Klitschko brother (whose chauffeur status leads me to believe he didn´t make it through Evil Medical School like his other siblings) soon gets me up to speed, explaining that my host (let´s call her Inky) was called in to work and had to
The World is MineThe World is MineThe World is Mine

Chocolate + World Cup = Lots of Women
send a company car (an Audi A8 no less) to pick me up.

A little background on Inky:

We met in a Valencia internet cafe during the second-to-last day of World Tour I. We were both using our laptops in the designated area, I told her I owned a chocolate factory, and we went out for some paella. Halfway through our wonderful dinner in the Plaza, I reached for my daypack and got a handful of leg instead (giving new definition to the term "blind date"). Inky was nice enough to take a ride with me to the police station to file a report, and we had a drink afterwards to wash away my sorrows (I lost a laptop, ipod, journal, travel guide, train ticket to Madrid, and several other unmentionables). I walked my lovely date home and we´ve kept in touch since, knowing that we´d be back in Germany for the World Cup in 2006.

Fast-forward to 2006, where Inky is hosting yours truly for a few days (though she has regrettably asked that she not be added to the Groupie archives on the site, a request I´ll regrettably honor). On her day off, with nothing
"SI SE PUEDE!!""SI SE PUEDE!!""SI SE PUEDE!!"

Hoisting the Ecuadorian flag up with new friends.
but great weather in sight (24 C/75 F, clear skies) we visited the "Schokoladen Museum", otherwise known as the Chocolate Museum. This was a no-brainer, since I own a chocolate factory and all (Willy Juan-K at your service).

The factory does an astounding and thorough (albeit boring) job of explaining how chocolate is made, with the most exciting part being the active assembly lines and chocolate fountains used in the process. There are several opportunities to eat, drink and smell "schokoladen", which I recommend you take advantage of every time. Afterwards, we had some iced chocolate beverages in the courtyard right along the Rhine. Coincidentally, there was a TV show being taped next to us which, if I would´ve managed to get on, might´ve created a paradox that would´ve surely destroyed the universe.

After getting a few touristy items at the gift shop, we followed the river to the bar area and met a crazy group of Ecuadorian hooligans which we joined for some local brews. Chanting, chauvinism and downright debauchery ensued, as my fellow countrymen (I´m half-Ecuadorian, half-amazing) broke into a round of applause everytime a local hottie would walk in and out of the train station
Ecuadorian GunsEcuadorian GunsEcuadorian Guns

"Cuidado... te agarraran!"
(this happens every 4.3 seconds in Cologne). We even managed to get on local TV (what can I say, I´m a multimedia magnet) holding up the flag and generally acting like jacka$$es.

With the opening match now just hours away, I´m properly hyped-up and ready for the madness. 32 teams. 64 matches. Millions of groupies. Hundreds of beers. Dozens of goals... and 10k... Juan.



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