After a couple of enjoyable days of reuniting with some old friends in Salzburg, my travel amigo and I booted off to Geneva for a night. We chose the city because of its relative proximity to Paris, only a few hours on one of France’s TGV trains.

The city is beautifully perched on the edge of an enormous lake, and one can’t help but note the contrast between the serenely calm waters and the bustling metropolis that oozes money at its side. Ferraris, Porsches and other hot cars crawl through the streets, seemingly prowling for a tiny Fiat to have for brunch. Latin beats pound from the Hilton’s terrace as the night approaches and a French bistro culture is ever-present on street corners everywhere.

The mood between us was a bit sad, but unspoken. It felt like we had been walking happily on warm summer streets, only to realize that our shadows were getting a bit too long for our liking — somebody was going to get called home soon.

We made our travel plans; independently for the first time, and yet still in discussion over various train schedules and accomodation proximities to metro stops. On the day of our departure, I was actually the first to leave, on a train back into Germany. Switzerland was simply to expensive for me to stick around for long.

I stopped in Heidelberg for a couple of nights, and actually got into the city, found accommodations and got to an outdoor viewing venue in time to watch the second half of Germany’s defeat of Argentina. Drama! Drama! The crowd was pretty apprehensive, well aware that this game would be Germany’s biggest challenge so far in the tournament. Argentina opened the scoring early in the second half, and moods were dashed and tense until Klose was able to bring the home-side even in the 80th minute of the match.

The game made it to shoot-outs, and these were a rollercoaster of emotions from shot to shot, and goal to goal. Germany didn’t even need to take its final shot, as their goalkeeper Lehmann made two stops against the Argentinians.

The crowd went absolute nuts to the tune of Berlin! Berlin! Wir fahren nach Berlin! For those in need of a translation, that’s Berlin! Berlin! We’re going to Berlin! Berlin is the venue for the tournament’s final match, and ironically the game against Argentina was in Berlin itself. Truly, the country is standing behind a young team that is performing beyond its expectations, so let’s just hope their fans aren’t getting too far ahead of themselves, with a match against the Italians in between.

Semifinal matches are fast approaching, and even though I’m now back in Austria (some calls regarding employment to make this afternoon), I may just have to jump back into Germany for the next couple of games. I am also making vague plans to get myself to Berlin for the final match itself, although there may be some juggling occuring there, dependent on work schedules (if one exists) and train reservations (if they’re still available).

If you’re not planning on watching the last few games, change your plans!!