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Our flight to Milan isn't until 3, so we have our 1 & only lie in this morning, & it's great. Waking up naturally, the batteries feel recharged & we're halfway there. This entire thing has been so hectic, that to use a football cliche, we could only ever take it one game at a time, but now we're over halfway, the thought of actually making it is starting to be a possibility. We feel fresh & take in a little bit of Barcelona, as our bus to the airport is right by the digs.
However, I am in a very sombre mood as my mind turns to Jamie's flight & hoping he makes it to his sister-in-law's funeral in time this morning, & more personally, thinking of good friends who are all attending Jevs' funeral today. I'm really upset at not being there for him, but he had a real spirit for adventure & doing this is a fitting tribute for that, I hope. Jamie had the privilege of playing football for a season with Jevs as well, so he's hoping to pay his respects at his service, too. I'm not sure if I could do that. As I said to him at the time, 7 games in 7 days is difficult, but 2 funerals in 1 day is unthinkable.
Back in Barcelona, me & Dean stroll to our gate & wait for updates on our flight. We duck into a little coffee shop to make a few repairs to the flag, which has had a bit of a battering this week, when we hear the announcement that our flight has been delayed. We were already a little tight from arrival in Milan to getting to the game, but this has put us under a little bit of pressure now,even if its only a half an hour delay.
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| Milan Malpensa Airport. |
We land at Milan Malpensa airport & after I pick up the Juventus hold all I've been carrying all week, to a bit of stick, we get a train to Central Milan. We arrive there just 2 & 1/2 hours before kick off, & need to get a further train to where our hostel is. We are walking around Milan station, trying to find the platform no we need & all we can see is herds of people staring at the departure board. All of a sudden, a few platform number's flash up & people scatter off in all directions to run for their train. It's the most chaotic system I've ever seen & having run to our platform, there is a sudden platform change & everyone's running off again to catch the train. Only a handful actually make the train & we're now right up against it. We leave the station to get a taxi but its deserted outside & nothing on the roads. Stranded again, we go back to get the next train & suffer our fate.
Upon arrival, it's not been too bad a journey & we've got directions to our hostel. We walk up & down the road several times, & seeing nothing of it, we ask a local in a very shady looking neighbourhood. She points us in the direction of a gated building that could only be described as a prison complex, or at best, an institution of some sort. We have to buzz at a gate for cars to enter, & we enter to see a park, trees all around & some little cube shaped buildings. I approach the first one, thinking its the reception but its a little restaurant/bar & the owner points me in the right direction. I thank him & say we might pop over later, but our flights at 6 in the morning & the game finishes at 11, so it's clearly not realistic
At reception, it's a case of bags in, call a taxi for the San Siro & get there, as we don't have our tickets yet & it's less than 90 mins to kick off. Our receptionist Giusseppe has other ideas,though & in hindsight it was hilarious. He pronounced every word he said & made a point of making sure he got every detail across,without interruption.
"You e-mailed us on Monday, (long pause) the 22nd of October to book a room for 3 people. (long pause) We replied saying that this was possible & you would pay to us the sum of €60. (long pause) I am afraid that you will have to pay the full amount (long pause) as we may have been able to rent this bed (long pause)
Now, I must tell you that there is a tax of €1 on the room. (long pause) this is not our fault, but our governments. (you get the idea of the long pauses between every other word now. I just wanted to shake him at this point) Around 4 years ago, City hall enforced this upon us..." & just carried on in the most irritating manner imaginable, despite knowing how big a rush we were in. Saying over & over again, in his very unique style, that "I can't stress enough how important it is that you use the Big. Wooden. Door.To. Come. In....."
He did, however, proceed to tell us (very slowly) that no-one could come in or out of the grounds between 1.30 & 5.30 a.m. This was a big problem for us, as our flight was leaving for Eindhoven at 6.50 & we had to leave for Milan Bergamo airport at 4. He agreed he would arrange to have the gates opened for us & called a taxi to take us to the station to complete the 60km trip to the airport. He also told us that a taxi to the San Siro right now would be madness, as it would cost a fortune & traffic would make it difficult to get there in time,so we ran off to have another crack at the Italian Metro.
1 hour from kick-off, we thankfully find our way easily enough onto the metro. As if this panic wasn't enough, we're flying into Eindhoven in the morning, initially booked to get us in for the Heracles v Utrecht game which we've changed in favour of Hamburg. It's a good job we changed it because all Dutch games have been called off following the tragic killing of an assistant referee in a youth game there.
However we still have no onward travel booked & we land in Eindhoven in 12 hours time, so I'm frantically searching for trains to book whilst Dean makes sure we don't miss our stop to try & deal with the more pressing matter of getting a ticket for tonight's game.
I manage to get a train booked & we come out of the Metro station & walk along the route to the ground. It's about a mile walk & it's clear that this isn't going to be a very popular game tonight. Inter are through & Neftchi Baku, an Azerbaijani club, are out. The roads are eerily quiet & we're beginning to wonder whether its kicked off earlier. There's no-one around.
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| Outside the San Siro in Milan. |
We get to the box office & are accosted by a ticket tout, urging us not to buy from the box office & instead get them from him at LESS than face value. Now, I'm not a fan of touts, but sometimes they're necessary. On this occasion though, we get our tickets for a combined €30 & it's nice to get another break. He walks us round to our gate to prove that they work before we pay, & I have a slight panic when they ask to check my passport, but they wave me on & we're in!
Having climbed the stairs to the very top of the San Siro, it looks more like there's a stadium tour taking place, as opposed to a match, with pockets of fans scattered about the vast stadium. We're on the same side as the cameras, as well as up in the Gods, so we need a change of tact. I ask for a Steward's help, with the use of 1 of our translation cards, & he marches us right back down the stairs, straight out of the door & round to pitch level on the opposite side of the ground. In other words, right in the camera line. They were great & couldn't help enough. The fans also. I can't find any pics online of the teams coming out but they raised all their flags for it & it would've made a great pic, Oscar's wee green flag in amongst the big boys of the San Siro.
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| The stadium looked more like there were tours taking place than an actual game |
The game itself, is actually quite decent, & Inter, who have a stronger team out than I expected including Cambiasso, Samuel & Coutinho, take the lead through Marko Livaja, only for a Baku to snatch a great equaliser just before half time. The entire Curva Nord is empty apart from their ultras in the middle tier & the noise they make in such an empty stadium is very impressive. They even keep singing the whole way through half time.
Cassano comes on at half-time & Inter are a lot more threatening for it. They re-take the lead early on (Livaja again) & dominate throughout,missing some unbelievable sitters in the process, (Livaja again) & Baku equalise late on. There are about 30 fans from Baku there,all of whom have been moved into the middle of our end,to try & make the place appear more full for the cameras,& they're going mental, letting off flares & all sorts.
The whole games had a friendly, family atmosphere to it & most Inter fans are pleased to see the Neftci fans enjoying themselves.
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| The banner proudly on display inside the San Siro |
We didn't manage to talk to as many people at the game today, & we head off back to get a few hrs sleep before the taxi comes. This one being our latest kick off of the week (9.05 local time) we get home for 12, leaving us four hours of sleep. Just as Dean's putting his key into The. Big. Wooden. Door. I can clearly hear music coming from the bar/restaurant we got directions in earlier. "Why don't we go for a couple of sociable ones, then we can kip on the plane & the train?" I venture.
Dean doesn't take much persuading & we head over. The place is packed,they have a DJ playing & it's mental. Bearing in mind,this is set in a compound,in some woods in Milan, it's not exactly what we expected to find. We stand at the bar,ordering our beers,& watching the locals. Communicating without the language is difficult,especially in this noise, but it soon becomes clear that its the boss's birthday & we've effectively crashed the party. When we order our next beer,he insists on paying. We're very appreciative, then, naturally, buy him a drink back. He refuses, unless we'll drink a shot with him, so we do that.
Big mistake. From that point on, every drink ordered at the bar results in one of the locals sending us down shots. We're now well in with them & have told everyone what we're doing & why we're doing it. I received a message on Facebook from one later, saying he'd donated to our justgiving page & would continue to follow Oscar's story, which was remarkable. The DJ's finished & we're now in great company with about 15 of the locals, when Dean asks the barman for a cocktail. His choice. He then proceeds to walk along the bar, pouring a bit from every single bottle along it into a shaker, before shaking, pouring & adding about a thimbleful of coke into each one. Lunacy & that probably tipped it over the edge for us.
We carry on with the locals, who despite their poor English, know the words to seemingly every single U2 song, when 3.30 rolls around. Knowing our taxis at 4, we say our goodbyes before heading back to collect our bags. I sit down in a stairwell, whilst Dean goes to sort himself out. The next thing I know, a phone is ringing behind reception & I, for some reason, decided to answer it. A voice mumbles something in Italian, but I pick out the word taxi, & suddenly I'm very, very sober. I realise I've fallen asleep & the taxis been waiting a good half hour. We're 60km from the airport, our gate closes at 6.20, we've missed our bus to the airport & now we're going to miss our taxi. It's now 4.40 am. 1 hour 40 mins or the dream is dead again.
I run round the building like a madman, looking for Dean & can't find him anywhere, when I find a locked toilet cubicle. I'm hammering on the door where he's not responding. I manage to get in, literally drag him out, grab his bags & go. Outside, the taxis long gone. We're locked in this compound with no taxi & less than 90 mins to get our flight. A night watchman lets us out, but we're still miles from anything ,& at this hour, there's no sign of any civilisation. It's also started snowing, just to add to the chaos. We're walking about 10 mins when we end up walking along some sort of motorway. There's still nothing on it, & the whole situation is hopeless. I'm screaming, a lot, knowing we've not only failed the challenge & let people down by drinking stupidly, but we're probably also going to be stranded in Milan for a bit, such was the house of cards that this trip was built into. As well as that, Jamie's flying back into Hamburg in the morning & we're in danger of leaving him there alone.
At that point, I see some headlights in the distance.
(On my Facebook at the time of travelling onwards, I wrote we were saved by the Coca-Cola Christmas lorry. I can't confirm (remember) whether that's the case or not, but I'm telling you, when you're stranded in a hopeless scenario, & a big red lorry comes driving over the hill, through the snow, lit up like a beacon sent by God himself, the only sound you hear is "holidays are coming....")
I flagged him down & tried to explain our situation & showed him the Italian translation card that I had at the game. He obviously refused to take us to Bergamo himself,but he called us a taxi, which took us straight to the airport. €150 but this legend not only took it upon himself to drive like a lunatic to make sure we made our flight, but he also only charged us half fare (we called it €100 in the end,for his trouble) & we made it. Not for the first time, we bundle onto a Ryanair flight just in time,& as we go through security, the adrenaline begins to subside & we suddenly realise again just how drunk we really are. We're travelling into Eindhoven now, with no game being played in Holland, so a long day's travelling awaits on the other side. I sit down in my seat, strap in my seatbelt & open my eyes in Eindhoven. Teleportation does exist,it seems
Only problem I see upon landing, is the snow seems to have got very serious overnight....
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| The snow in Eindhoven looked like it could cause some problems |
For anyone who hasn't read this blog before, we are trying to take a flag to 7 football games in 7 days in 7 different countries, to raise awareness, & money, for the Oscar Knox Appeal. Oscar is a young boy from Northern Ireland who has severe Neuroblastoma & desperately needs money to help him, & other children with this disease.
Please read Oscar's blog here http://oscarknox.blogspot.co.uk/?m=1
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| This is wee Oscar himself. |
We are funding this entire trip ourselves & 100% of what you donate will go to Oscar's Appeal. Although we were initially hesitant to be raising money whilst having a glorified holiday, so many good people have come forward to us, that it would be sinful to refuse. Help spread the word, help save a little boy's life.
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