St Etienne, England v Slovakia 20/06/16

It seemed appropriate that today was the summer solstice, the longest day in the calendar as a very early start was required with the game not scheduled to kick off until many hours later at 9pm. Our initial destination was Luton airport as we departed from home at about 3.15 am; aiming for a flight departure at about 8am. All went very smoothly and the flight landed in St Etienne on time about an hour and a half later. The reception from the local immigration and Police could be described as a little frosty as the passport check was extremely thorough and time consuming. Processing a plane load of dedicated England supporters took at least an hour and was extremely thorough. Other passengers were allowed to the front of the queue therefore delaying us even further. However as we left the airport to board our buses to the stadium we were faced with an armed welcoming committee and a host of dogs, just seemed a tad OTT to me.

The welcoming committee! That was nice of them!

Yep, a few dogs and machine guns!

We headed for the stadium, arriving about mid day, so that we could locate the same buses after the game. There was some distance between the stadium and our drop off point but it was a nice warm day and the mood was very jovial. After the troubles of Marseilles and the extra precautions around the Lens game this, hopefully, would be more upbeat and a fun-filled day.

Once we had our bearings we all trooped of to enjoy the sights and sounds of the city centre. It was a bit of a trek to be fair, but the weather was good and the mood was light with most people looking forward to a day of fun and a good game of football. We recalled playing in Bratislava some years ago where the weather had been unkind to say the least and the reception from the locals and their Police also left a lot to be desired. Hopefully none of that would be repeated in St Etienne.

We ended up in the square known as Jean-Jaures square which had been infiltrated by several thousand England fans. It was surrounded on 4 sides by restaurants and bars of all shapes and sizes and a nearby Italian pizza restaurant was calling. Service was slow, but it was a seemingly busy day for everybody and I doubt if the local business's had seen such patronage in many a year.

For the England fans, and ourselves Jean-Jaures square was one big street party, with everybody participating in a drink or two, singing, dancing and above all good humoured fun! Enjoyment at a European championship game of football was back on the cards to the delight of everyone.

And my pet hate? Never enough toilets when England fans travel abroad. This time it was France, but it could be most countries across Europe, especially those without a real pub culture, that their 'café's' just don't seem to be allocating enough toilets. Queues, queue, and more queues!

A long walk up to the stadium, stupid entry procedures and here we are!!

Of course the less said about the game the better!! A boring 0-0 draw wasn't what we wanted or expected. Yet again this England team frustrates, and yet again we don't finish top of the group as we would have liked. Why can't we do things simply??

So, at the end we made our way home yet again, a coach journey to the airport, flight to Luton and a long drive home. I just need my bed!

A very British affair in Lens

England v Wales in France does seem rather odd. And ever since the draw had been made this was the flashpoint, the one game where violence and hooliganism could potentially break out. The troubles in Marseilles had only highlighted what the authorities had feared and extra precautions were to be taken to ensure this didn't happen. Lens, surprisingly, was to be a dry town and alcohol was to be banned. I'm sure those precautions weren't thought up and written on the back of a fag packet but it sure felt that way.

We'd set off from home in the early hours having decided some months previous that  this game, being based in northern France, would be much easier to get to by car and using Le Shuttle to do so. We arrived at Dover to find it a little busy. At the check in point though we found we could make an earlier train if we desired and opted to do that. It left just enough time to visit the loo and buy a coffee and a breakfast bun before we were called. But that's where our luck ran out. The extra precautions put in place, coupled with a seemingly mass exodus from these shores by car enthusiasts heading for Le Mans, meant that the crawl through security and passport control took a long long time. And for what purpose? The check went something like this;

Police Officer: 'Going to the game lads?'

Us; Yes

Police Officer: 'Have you got tickets?'

Us: Yes

Police Officer: 'Did you go to the last game?'

Us; Yes

Police Officer: Enjoy!

Now, what possible use were those questions? I'm obviously oblivious to the security operations surrounding leaving the country to go for a game of football but that little exchange, carried out thousands of times that morning delayed everybody in Dover by about an hour. And for what?

Once on the road we made good progress, the weather was a bit miserable but French roads are always good making travelling seem so much better in the EU!! We took a turn off the autoroute heading for Lens to find our progress blocked by the Gendarmerie. They spoke little English but our knowledge of French indicated we had been stopped for a vehicle search and a passport check. Both went well although slightly longer than I would have preferred. It does seem a little extreme to make sure that the alcohol ban was to be rigidly enforced so that all English cars were searched by armed Police.

We parked close by the stadium in a residents parking area and made our way into the town. A further security cordon meant another body search by the local Police designed to stop us carrying beer into the town. How utterly fruitless! So heading for a local bar to meet with friends it became obvious that all of these checks and extra precautions meant very little when alcohol was freely available once you'd arrived, a pleasant day meant everyone was in the streets enjoying each others company accompanied by several beers.

And today was different, it felt very very British, much like a Saturday afternoon at home mingling with the opposition, sharing a joke or two and discussing the game which we were all looking forward to.

 

And we made our way to the stadium, remembering the last time we were here, even down to the little pinch points on the journey, the ones where impatience meant climbing slippery grass slopes and falling over much to the amusement of everyone else.

 

Even the stadium seems very British with its distinct stands set on 4 sides, fans being very close to the action and an atmosphere to rival any English game. This was different yet very familiar all at the same time, an English moment set in a northern French town, and all the better for that.

And, because of the result it was a smiling set of English supporters who left the stadium. Smiling from ear to ear because of the result, but also because it had been a good day, a good day despite those security concerns, a good day because it felt just right. Maybe now the competition could be what it was always meant to be, about the football, about supporting your team whilst  enjoying the company of your friends and companions, but also with your opposite number, enjoying their company too. And with that we made our way home, enduring yet more problems in Calais but nothing would wipe the smiles from our faces, at least not for a few days yet.

Marseille.... the good and the bad

Plenty has been written about the events in Marseilles, and plenty more has been added by others so keen to believe that the English football fan has not changed one iota. Being at home for the few days after the game I was incensed by the stay at home England fan, or those who purport to be England fans during tournaments whilst constantly aiming criticism at the national team at other times, for their self righteous indignance that somehow those fans in Marseilles had besmirched their good name. Or at least brought shame upon the country itself.

And yet my attempts to offer an opinion of someone who'd been there and witnessed various scuffles, spoken to those who had witnessed much more and those who had a closer insight to the real goings on brought a certain level of criticism for even thinking that those fans in France might not be as guilty as some wanted them to be. Strangely enough though I was contacted by various individuals who did want to applaud me for having spoken out and tried to offer an alternative viewpoint. And to those I say thank you!

But Marseilles, apart from the obvious difficulties was an enjoyable city. Kick off was to be quite late that day, so armed with several spare hours we hopped onto what seemed like an empty tour bus and spread ourselves out so as to enjoy the ride. Little did we know that in the minutes prior to departure it would fill up and then some! But hey, we didn't object to sharing with French, Russians and others all doing the same. And what a revelation Marseilles was from being there the last time. It was clean, warm, smart and had hidden treasures around every corner. The centrepiece though was the port area and the little back streets and squares which offered respite from the heat and liquid refreshment to quench the travellers thirst. One pitched battle, started by the Russians, and finished by the English curtailed our time there and a short metro ride down to the fan park area to meet up with others seemed the right thing to do, and it was!

We've met some great people over the years which sometimes makes the effort and cost worthwhile, and this time was no exception. Several drinks with our old friends turned out to be exceptionally pleasant and the walk to the stadium, which was long and tiresome, all the more enjoyable. To be fair the organisation around these games was pretty awful, but I doubt if I've ever applauded this element at any tournament I've been to. For some reason access to stadiums during any tournament, be it UEFA or FIFA, is always incredibly complicated and this was no exception. The approach to the stadium was from one side but the England fans section was at the other with no seemingly easy route to get there. Once there the ticket check, bag check and pat down was a farce. Having to exchange our extremely small bags for a blue ticket at a portacabin before being allowed to progress further seemed completely unrealistic and troublesome. I struggle to understand the mentality of stewards who when faced with a English flag dedicated to some obscure northern town suddenly break out into a cold sweat and view these as the most dangerous item anyone could take into a football stadium. Those pesky flags eh, breaking ground regulation all on their own!

I liked the stadium though, very atmospheric, very spacious and I'm sure the seats would have been comfortable too had anybody bothered to sit in them. And yet again, not a single attempt to get anybody to sit down, yet again another ground regulation just ignored; why do we put up with this pantomime over and over?

Getting away from the stadium wasn't to be easy though. The queues to recover your bags from the portacabins was bad for us, but would have been much much worse had we been another 10-15 minutes later as the numbers just seemed to grow and grow. I heard later that some people abandoned their belongings because of the lengthy queues and missing transport connections. The dash to the metro appeared to be OK but the queue for the entrance was awful. I know we may have invented queueing but this was no time to be polite and a smart overtaking manouver around the outside appeared to be the way forward. Rude of us I know, but eminently sensible with a plane to catch!! All in all a good day was had, tiring, poorish result, but altogether just nice meeting with old friends. A definite plus.

Altogether now, 'Fifty years of hurt, never stopped me dreaming'....

And the agony continues! Its now fifty years of hurt with no sign of a change in our fortunes anytime soon. I have yet to hear a single pundit who can put his finger on the reason why we are as poor as this at seemingly every tournament we enter. Qualifying isn't an issue, nor is playing friendlies against the best teams in the world, so why do we struggle so much at tournament time?

Hopefully I'll find time to expand on this topic in time to come , meanwhile a few pictures to remind us of how we did enjoy our time in France, despite the results...

This was in Marseille, on the steps of the cathedral which gave great views across the city....

Looking out across the city and the Med...

Looking north towards the stadium..

 The flag is always an attraction...

 

Having lunch in a sun drenched square, before the Russians decided to invite themselves....

Anybody fancy a boat trip? 

Nice stadium though, despite the lack of security and the emphasis on stopping people with flags. Smoke bombs, flares and other stuff is OK though...

Hopefully I can return to this blog and post other subjects and photos in the coming weeks. Fingers crossed..

Time to catch up??

I've decided to blow the dust off this site, give it a spring clean and get it up and running again. If anybody wants to join me then all the better!!

If not, no problem, I'll just indulge myself along the way. I'll put up some photos and a few words about our trip to the Ukraine, and a little about our time in Miami.

Hope you enjoy!!

Donetsk here we come!

Well the title of this post may give the impression that we are enthusiastically counting down the hours and days until we head out for another European venture. But to be honest this trip has not had a lot to recommend it at the moment. Booking flights and hotels has been a nightmare, and its no surprise that very few England fans will be making this trip. We leave from Birmingham on the 8th, flying into Istanbul where we catch our connection and head out to Donetsk.

The hotel prices have beaten me I'm afraid, quotes of £500 and £600 a night for a single room have been common in this area and despite the warnings that people wouldn't pay those figures they have been ignored by our hosts. Reluctantly I recruited the help of a friend of mine who lives in Kyiv and through him we've managed to secure a rental house 10 minutes from down-town Donetsk. My fingers are well and truly crossed that this turns out OK. We are being collected from the airport by a work colleague, which is a small but significant positive in what has so far been anything but. I hope that sets the trend. The arrangements have been painful, a million miles from what we would normally accept, but sometimes you have to make the most of it and do what you can.

Fingers and toes are well and truly crossed!!

Apologies for the lack of content

I've been rather busy on other 'stuff' over the last 6 months or so, but to be honest the England scene has lacked in its excitement level. Once we had qualified and then Fabio took his long walk there didn't seem to be much to raise the interest level. A period of reflection perhaps? A period of intense negativity even? It could well be. However we are on the eve of another tournament so perhaps, just perhaps, we might find something to cheer about. Here goes!

Statement from David Bernstein

It is important that people understand that amongst the many duties of The FA we have responsibility for the England team and also, separately, to oversee the domestic game’s regulatory function.
“Our philosophy for the national team is clear. We will run this along the same lines and with the same focus and commitment as any football club in this country. Our fans would expect no less.
“To achieve this we will fully support our manager and our players.
“This is simply what we have sought to achieve in reducing Wayne Rooney’s suspension. I am very pleased that we have been successful in this appeal.
“The FA’s disciplinary department has stated, from the outset, that the domestic regulatory process is different to that of UEFA’s. In the case of Wayne Rooney we have been well and independently advised and have followed proper UEFA process throughout.
“Our management and players respect that domestic disciplinary decisions of The FA are made independently of matters relating to the English national team.

England to play in Dublin?

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It's been rumoured for a while but now it seems like the appetite is there to see the English national team appear in Dublin at the reborn Lansdowne Road ground. The last time England played there in 1995 the game was abandoned after 27 minutes when England fans tried to demolish the stand they occupied about 15 years too early.

If both teams can avoid each other for group stages of the UEFA Euro's next summer in Poland and the Ukraine then there exists the appetite between both FA's to confirm the fixture. Trappatoni has revealed that talks have been ongoing for a couple of years but the diary was a bit full. Now that qualifying is out of the way and the home fixtures and contractual games are sorted then there is a gap here and there.

Thoughts are that it's still a bit early  to arrange this type of fixture, after all its very close to home and travelling should not be a problem for any ardent English fan, but maybe the type of riot seen all those years ago has finally been extinguished. Rugby fans don't have problems in Dublin, after all they are welcomed with open arms, but they don't carry the patriotic hogwash with them. I have always fancied a trip to Dublin to watch an English team play there, maybe the time is right and we can all celebrate a summer of good football!

Montenegro - Wayne Rooney and the final chapter

Sleep deprived as usual I clawed my way across the bedroom floor, minutes before the alarm would sound and really awaken the senses, not something I wanted to do at 3 in the morning. But sometimes these sacrifices need to be made to follow the national team across the increasing expanses of Europe and provide the support they really need. I'm sure Wayne Rooney and company would be desperately upset if I wasn't there! OK, its not true but that's what I tell my wife every time I book another flight  to another unknown destination.

The last trip didn't excite the travel senses but Montenegro is a new country for all England fans, so we looked forward to this one with a little anticipation. If allowing new teams and countries into the UEFA finals has some benefits this has to be one of them. The 3 points were almost a given, so it wasn't for that reason that we parted with several hundred pounds, sweated over match ticket purchases and set off on the early morning trip to Luton airport last Thursday. We collected a couple of other YES friends along the way and joined the throngs heading south on the M1, by the way why are the motorways so crowded at that time of day, does nobody need any sleep? And why are the parking and drop off arrangements so bad at Luton airport, does anybody know how that's meant to work?

The check in queue was alive with fellow England fans, plenty of them old friends who we've met over the years and the miles. A quick cup of coffee in the departure lounge and hey presto we were being ushered onto our plane for the 2-3 hour flight to Tivat. Interestingly the plane had set off from Manchester airport earlier that day so it had about 50-60 England fans already on board but a further pit stop at Luton was required so that we could join them.

On arrival at Tivat we were put onto coaches for the 30 minute journey to our hotel at Budva further down the coast. Our Police escort ( we were to see a few of these) ensured a speedy trip and at all traffic lights and junctions we were given priority. Now that's how to treat England fans! Within minutes of the journey starting the phones were ringing with tales of tickets and the cost. I had mine but we were 3 short and now faced with additional costs of 50 to 100€, something to sleep on maybe? At the hotel we settled down to enjoy a beer or two and lap up the late summer sun and the facilities at the hotel.

A relaxing day was planned, a few beers, some lunch, a stroll on the beach, check out the local wildlife, you know the kind of thing! Later that day after a  quick taxi ride  we arrived at the Old Town of Budva, a fortified town of walls and narrow streets alongside a marina resplendent with expensive yachts all standing to attention in their measured rows. A quick win on the Lotto would find me back here pretty quickly!

The Old Town is really pretty, some interesting shops open quite late into the night, but our main focus would be the open air bars, it may be late in the summer but its still warm enough to enjoy the evening without sitting indoors. Doesn't beer always taste better when sat outside?


Several beers later we set off to explore the rest of Budva by the sea. It was clearly out of season, all the beach bars and restaurants had either closed or had virtually no customers at all. We walked for ages before deciding we'd seen enough and jumped a cab back to the hotel.

A nightcap or two later, some pleasant chit chat about how we planned match day and we hit the sack, about 24 hours after my head had left my own pillow.


The next day again proved warm and sunny. Up nice and early to take advantage of the enormous breakfast buffet put us all in the right mood. A couple of phone calls made sure we all had tickets waiting for us when we arrived in Podgorica and so we settled into a match day routine. Being based at a decent hotel on the outskirts of Budva does have its advantages, we were in place known as Becici, but when its out of season there doesn't appear to be a lot to do. Some England fans had braved the outdoor pool, but the water park adjacent to the hotel was closed, to be honest I'm glad it was! So, a stroll along the beach, a pleasant hour or two passed with a beer and a bit of lunch before heading back to the hotel to await transport to Podgorica.

The coaches filled up and set off with yet another Police escort. Being held back at a major intersection was a minor set back but the Police did want all coaches to travel together, and the delay was to await other coaches travelling from different parts, and countries to assemble before the trip into the mountains. The climb out of Budva and high into the surrounding mountains took a while but we were happy to be on our way. Again we had the VIP treatment as the coaches sped us into Podgorica affording us priority status at all road junctions. The locals seemed mightily impressed with the convoy and waved us into their city.

A quick stop off at the hotel to collect tickets and we were free to enjoy the city, the match day and the pre-match atmosphere. We settled for a nice open air bar on the banks of the river Moraca, nestled in the ravine with a view of the Hotel Podgorica on the opposite bank which housed the England team that day. The route we chose to access the bar wasn't the most picturesque though! Service was very slow, glasses were in short supply, but then again its not every day a few thousand England fans hit town intent on drinking the place dry. It was nice to see some friendly faces enjoying the same hospitality, some YES friends having made the trip down through Kosovo and Dubrovnik had some interesting travel stories to tell.

 The England players made a brief appearance on what must have been a terrace overlooking the river.  We meanwhile headed back to the England fans hotel juct to double check that more 'official' tickets had not become available later that day. Confusion reigned though, as it always does with Englandfans and the message that no tickets would be available did get lost in the translation. It would have been more easily understood though if the Englandfans manager, Jamie Craig, could have lifted his head when speaking to people, it does help a little to be polite at times, a concept seemingly lost on him.




So, a walk to the ground was in order. Plenty of bars and fast food joints lined the approach and it would have been a pity to waste the opportunity to sample one or two. So we did! The locals, who had turned out in relatively large numbers, seemed to be enjoying having the England fans in town, despite being fiercely nationalistic they did seem intent on letting us know how much they enjoyed English football and reeled off player after player and team after team in an attempt to prove that point. Not many seemed to be supporting Doncaster Rovers though, pity!!

 The normal security was in place for accessing the stadium, made a little more difficult this time because of the amount of tickets bought by England fans on the black market. The scare stories of no tickets being available and that the north end of the stadium being a dangerous no go area seemed way off the mark. In fairness the locals seemed a little in awe of the England fans and for the first time, I think, they applauded the national anthem belted out by the thousand or so official England fans. By way of thanks England fans showed the due respect to theirs which seemed a tad long but a great deal more uplifting than ours!

I don't do match reports, others are way more qualified than me to pontificate over the game plan but I will say this, we were rubbish! Yep, not very incisive but true none the less. It did rain, and heavily throughout the game, but no excuses, we went into a very nice 2 goal lead only to squander the whole thing with a poor performance and a sending off for the so-called English superstar Wayne Rooney. What a plonker! The final whistle brought the curtain down on another tepid performance against the newest footballing nation in the world. Cue celebrations that reflected the importance of such a win for the minnow of European, if not world, football. Meanwhile the rain continued to fall. By the time the stadium had emptied the rain had monsoon characteristics and the authorities had felt it necessary to leave the fans stranded, conditions worsened along with the mood. But not one of threat, a mood of typical English disappointment in our team, a team who continue to stumble their way to qualification and ignore the passion and willingness of fans who only want to see effort and application. Any sign that this England team care would be welcomed, but we may be waiting a long time.

The journey back was a sombre one, not helped by sitting in very wet clothes but we did arrive back at the hotel with a marvellous buffet waiting for us. Another drink and off to bed.

The following day was again bright and sunny. Breakfast, a walk along the beach and we were soon ready to check out of the hotel. The coaches arrived, filled up very quickly and yet again our Police escort ensured a short trip back to the airport. In fact it was probably too quick as the check in desks were not ready and the airport concourse got rather crowded. Everything sorted itself though, and before you could  really deliberate how long Wayne Rooney would be suspended for we were on the plane and ready for home. Luton airport was a pleasant sight, not sure if I could ever really say that, but our weary bones jumped in the car, we pointed it north and by about 10pm we were home. Another journey done, another miserable performance over, another escapade to discuss and now we await the draw for Euro 2012. Hopefully, just hopefully, we can look forward to football matches that meet our expectations.