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I feel surprisingly sprightly after only 4 hours kip. Am just on the train to Vienna now, is only an hour away so it’s a wee tiddler after some of the monsters I’ve been on.

1 hour later and it’s hello country number 8.

The hostel is pretty nice. I’ve just been sat in a lovely summer garden at the back with the sun-a-shining and listening to one of the Glaswegian lads (Cass) I’m knocking about with put out his tunes on the guitar. I was well impressed with his style of playing and he has a good voice on him too. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him doing very well sometime soon.

I’ve booked an extra night in Vienna which will take me up until Saturday and then I’ll be looking to make my way to Slovenia. Down, down, deeper and down eh.

Tonight it’s more football on the idiot box for a change, these lads are all Celtic fans (apart from Geoff who’s St Mirren all the way) so they’re after watching the 2nd leg of the Arsenal game obviously. Forgive me Del, but It’d be a lonely life as a traveller if you hold people’s footballing affinity against ‘em. Though first and foremost a City fan, the team I look out for once past Hadrian’s is Gers.

Do you know it’s nearly 16:00 and I’m yet to eat a thing yet, this is becoming an all too regular occurrence. I’m off to remedy it now.

Actually I didn’t remedy it until around 4 hours later but when I did I had a belter cevapcici at a gaff named Mariahilferbrau (I can’t find a link). I’d already tried this dish many years ago in Bosnia and it was even better 2nd time round. The various meals everyone else were scoffing looked just as tantalising.

Am now watching the Arsenal vs Celtic game in Flanagans (it’s a Bermudan bar by the way, hold on, wait a minute, no I got that wrong, I can confirm that’s it’s actually an Irish bar) where I’ll also be taking in the Carling Cold Cup game of Crystal Palace vs The Mighty Blues tomorrow night. It’s not going too swell for my new pal’s team though, with them being 4-0 down on aggregate.

One of many graduates from the academy of footballing excellence has just entered the fray so all is not lost for them, the fearsome Willo Flood. He has the physique of a 9 year old and the boat-race of a 74 year old.

Game over and Celtic well beaten. Hell of a strike by Donati at the end though mind.

After that it was down to The Travel Shack which is just round the corner from the hostel. It’s like a hostel bar without the hostel, well worth a look if you’re a backpacker as that’s what it’s geared up for.