So I had a beautiful post about the riot I survived. But, blogger didn't like it so it closed my internet window and erased the whole thing.
It might be time for me to go venture over to word press.
You hear me BLOGGER? One more time and I'm leaving you. I swear I'll do it.
...here's all I have left of my whole blog. I'll rewrite it on the new blog. The BLOG which won't shut down on me.
I, a beer or two deep, needed relief. As I waited in a line for ze bathroom, I met a guy who spoke German as his native language, spanish as his second, and english as his third. It was perfect. We conversed for 5 minutes where I found out the riots were a common thing. People would come out from all over to watch the demonstration, hence the thousands of colorful mohawks.
The polizei hate arresting people because it takes too long, instead they love throwing a punch and a kick to disperse the crowd. THey had a great scare tactic: run at the crowd in a Spartan-esque fashion. When you see fifty riot gear cops running at you with batons held high, you run.
All in all, it was a fun night. We ended up getting sprayed when a water turret snuck around a corner and blitzkrieged us as a group. After two hours of passively participating in the riot, it was time to head to the Reeperbahn, the red light district of Germany. This is a great story for another time. Especially when we met the local ladies of the night who grab your shirt with a herculean grip.