The trip's over, I'm back, and I should be following up on emails/facebook/etc in the near future and getting the trip report out by the end of the month, since there are so many fewer pictures this time. Thanks and greets go out, in no particular or even greatly rational order, to at least the following:
The bar staff at Scandic Sydhavn, malfunctioning ticket machines, SG Dynamo Dresden, Kostenkorva vodka, the Sector Illusion dudes, Dennis, Lars, and the rest of the Aarhus crew, Martin, Eric, Sobo again (hab nix Gudrun angetan, ehrlich), Aeon Throne, the Hamburg police department, Daniel the world bum (dude, you shoulda stabbed that Bavarian pedophile, or at least told us you did) and the various Swiss and Austrians we breakfasted with, the tent robber for not taking anything actually important, Roger, Deutsche Bahn and associated regional rail in northwest Thuringia, Dennis and the Erfurt crew, inklusiv Müller, Knut, Renate, Haasi, Djorsten (did I misspell that again?), Mischa and family, and anyone else I forgot (big site), Sven der Saxe, Alex and Max and Hugo and crew for another year of bus/tent/van/early-morning-Benny-Hill madness, Donnie der Klohüter, Mitzi, Omer (still naw Scots, aye? ;) ) and the rest of the Israeli metal diaspora, Sara and Michael TerrorBlade and crew again (congrats again on your marriage, thanks for the vodka, apologies that I was too messed up to meet up Friday night), those Romanians from our raid on the Flunkyball tourney, the quarterfinalists that we boosted Köstriker off of (thanks & hails!), Kevin the undercover Aussie, Morne and Gwynbleidd for going above and beyond with merch, to good effect, Donald from Washington, the lovely girls who took active part in Mitzi's Aktion Rausziehung and the game dudes who made up the numbers, Tank and Zombieslut, Timo and crew (order your own Mortician shirt), cudgel.de, Andreas and Gerald, the long-suffering staff of Edeka Schlotheim, the Aussie dude who knows Wren (sorry, both sick and drunk at the time, no good for remembering names), 29 Pils, and of course everyone else who shared a beer or some railspace, took a CD or a sticker, and to the bands here that set me up with said promistuff and the bands over there who make it possible to get up these sick fests.
Here's to you all, us all, comrades near and far; raise a glass, raise your voices, raise hell. Next year may take us all closer to the grave, and may not take me back over, but we've no regrets and no remorse for the memories and braincells spent.