Bah Hamburg - Hamburg vs Hoffenheim (7)

You can donate to our Just Giving page where all the funds will go to Oscar here: http://www.justgiving.com/7ma7ches7coun7tries7days

Match day 6- Hamburg v Hoffenheim

"Football's not a matter of life & death- it's much more important than that" - Bill Shankly

Bill Shankly was a great football manager, who had a great number of fantastic quotes attributed to him. The one I've used above baffles me. Football's a great game, & rules many a people's lives. That's why we've chosen to try to use the game that so many of us love to strike a common chord & get Oscar's story out there more.

However, I'm sorry Shanks, but that quote is ludicrous. Perhaps I've misunderstood the context, but the amount of tears I've seen throughout this, from football fans of all kinds, surely disproves this nonsense.

"Football's not a matter of life and death, it's much more important than that - Bill Shankly"

At this point, I'd like to point out that we are working hard to keep the flag from becoming affiliated to any club. It will probably be at more Everton games with me, but I will try to limit this, as it's not an Everton flag.

Due to Oscar's Celtic connection, & the colours, it may be viewed as a Celtic flag, but this is about getting football fans to unite behind one special boy's story, about raising awareness and money for him & other children battling this horrible illness.

Likewise and in the light of the past week's events in Belfast, probably more importantly, the flag has no religion. It's inspiring to see that so many Rangers fans have been in contact & shown their support for Oscar, proving that even the biggest rivalries can be overcome when a young child needs help.

I'm choosing to pre-empt this blog to make this clear, because some of the clubs we've approached about displaying it responded by saying they wanted to check the flag over because "due to the green & white colouring, it may be deemed sectarian or offensive". No-one has said no, but I've found these responses baffling. With this in mind, please enjoy our venture into a foreign ground where they didn't get the gist of the text, & coincidentally, hate anything green & white.

We landed in Eindhoven at around 9am & the place is completely white. We had booked our cheap Ryanair flight into Eindhoven because the only confirmed European fixture tonight (Friday) was Heracles v Utrecht. However, as we lost out on our Bayern Munich game, due to other fixtures being re-arranged, & Hamburg v Hoffenheim had been moved to the Friday, we sacrificed our 1st choice Dutch game to shoehorn Ajax into the trip. It turned out that this was a very lucky break for us, as due to the brutal killing of a Dutch Asst. Referee, all Dutch fixtures were called off as a mark of respect. So, our flight to Eindhoven was pointless, but at least we'd get to see Holland, eh?

Lot's of snow about in Eindhoven including at the train station

We get a bus to the train station & collect our tickets that were booked on the Milan Metro last night, & as we have a few Dutch translation cards, explaining what we're doing made up for the Ajax game, we decide to distribute them while we're here. I can only assume that Google translate has had a mare on this, because the response is almost one of anger! "What's this got to do with me?", etc. We stop there, & rein it in, jumping on our train to Hamburg.

I think it's fair to say that at this point, relations are strained between me & Dean, & meeting up with Jamie in Hamburg will be a Godsend. We're both tired, hungover, stressed & he feels I've been too demanding, barking orders at him. I may have been but its taken a lot of organization to get this far, & we've nearly blown it on more than one occasion. If we fail, it's all on me, if we succeed, it's a shared glory. Absolutely fine, but it puts a lot of pressure on your shoulders & this is a learning curve thus far.

Even though I've been to each of the cities we're visiting before, I'm no expert & the tight timeframes don't allow for any mistakes. We sit apart on the train, stealing a bit of kip wherever possible, whilst keeping one eye on where we're changing each time.

Holland is blanketed in about six inches of snow, so each stop adds about a ten minute delay to our journey. By the time we reach Hamburg, we're three & a half hours from kick off, & Jamie meets us at the station, having flown into Hamburg that morning. He takes us across to a little home made pizza place in the station & tells us we have to try one, as he's already had two.

We get checked in, drop the bags off and with our tickets already in hand, have a little bit of time on our hands before kick off, so we go through the Hamburg Christmas markets.

Hamburg Christmas markets



I was in Hamburg during the 2006 World Cup & it was here that I discovered kurrywurst. I've been banging on about it to anyone who'll listen ever since, so we make a bee-line for that stand. Kurrywurst is essentially, sausage, sliced & served in what can only be desribed as a ketchup/gravy mixture, finished with paprika. The usual reaction when you explain this to people is "that sounds vile", but when I think back to that summer six years ago, we practically lived on it, & it was great. I can only assume that we were drunk the entire time in Hamburg, in 2006, because kurrywurst is vile.

Kurrywurst after purchase

Kurrywurst being prepared.



The Baltic coast is living up to it's name, and as we make our way to the Imtech Arena, we see St.Pauli stores, St.Pauli graffiti, & St.Pauli merchandise everywhere. It may well just be the central area of Hamburg we're in, but for such a smaller club, they certainly make their presence felt in this city. Unfortunately for us, a lot of this merchandise contains copious amounts of green & white, "You'll Never Walk Alone" motifs, and some graffiti mentions,which comfirm their allegiance to Celtic.

We were familiar with the tales of Hamburg fans unfurling a full size mosaic of a Union Jack when they played Celtic in Europe, to make sure that everyone was aware of their thoughts towards Celtic, but we were hoping that was just a one-off, rather than a deep rooted hatred for them, due to their affiliation to their city rivals. None of us are actually Celtic fans, but the flag is green & white, so we're worried as to how the locals will respond to it.

We arrive at the station, & have to take a shuttle bus to the ground, set deep in some dark woods. This journey does nothing to settle our nerves, as the bus is packed & the German fans are very aggressive in their nature. It's boisterous, but a few cross the line on occasion & this is without a green & white rag to the bull. It's intimidating, to say the least. A very stereotypical port city, full of your stereotypical sea-faring men.

We reach the ground & there's barely a word said. We all know the job we've come to do. We decide to go straight to the stewards, armed with yet another Google translation. The steward looks puzzled at the sentence construction, then seems to have gleamed the necessary information from it. "What the f#*k has this got to do with me?" he asks.

Not the response I was going for, but I carry on anyway, explaining what we're trying to achieve, & communicate a little bit more about Oscar, but he's not budging. "No" is the constant reply. I leave it, & go grab Jamie to come with me to try again at another entrance & the whole scene plays out in an almost identical fashion. Literally, near word for word. It seems we're on our own as we enter this blue & white bearpit.

We head straight to the front to find a spot, but there's nowhere to hang it. There's a huge wall behind the goal, but it's completely flag-free, so that's a no-no. Our seats are at the top of the lower tier,behind the goal, so we've nowhere to hang it there,either. We hold it up on the concourse,to get a few pics against the pitch, & the reaction isn't so bad. We get a few shouts (in German), but nothing overly threatening, & we're back scouring for a place to hang it.

The flags and banners at Hamburg



By the time we reach kick-off, however, it's a different vibe. The entire back row consists of plain clothes police, all massive & all looking for a kick-off of a different kind, it seems. The three rows in front of us seem to consist solely of big, burly skinheads, who could probably be best described as modern-day pirates, due to their arrays of tattoos & beards.

The game starts and a few fans start to sing, only to be shouted down by the skinheads. They were Hamburg fans, singing Hamburg songs, but every time they start up, they're told to stop. One gets a tap on the shoulder and the back of a hand raised towards him is enough to say, "try it once more & I'm coming over there".

I was curious as to what they were singing about, as they were all clearly supporting the same club. I wonder if it was the German equivalent of "Kenwright out" heard at a few Everton games & always guaranteed to ruffle a few feathers, one way or the other.

We found out later that Bundesliga clubs were participating in the "12:12" protests, a protest against new German security measures being enforced in football grounds. This protest took the form of no singing for the first 12 minutes of the game, which made the whole atmosphere all the more surreal for us, and all the less likely to rock the boat.

We were excited by the fact that you can get a beer in your seat at Bundesliga games, but that novelty wears off, when the minus temperatures make it nigh on impossible to drink. Even the beer backpack man gives up, disappearing to re-appear with a backpack full of 'Gluehwein', or mulled wine to me & you.

Anyway, we're re-thinking our strategy in displaying the flag somehow, & as its well into the minuses inside the ground, the flag doubles up as a blanket, draped across our legs, as we sip on our mulled wine, at the football. Old age has well & truly caught up.

The game itself isn't very good. Hoffenheim are pretty awful to be fair & Hamburg are only marginally better because of the excellent Son, who showed a great bit of skill to chest a ball, swivel & volley it against the crossbar. It would've undoubtedly been the best goal we'd seen all week, but a few minutes later, their big Latvian forward, Rudnevs looped a lovely header over the keeper & puts them 1-0 up.

Half time came and went and I thought about going across to our left to try & communicate with the away fans, who were in a massive cage alongside us & had managed to get their flags on display no problems. We still had nowhere to hang it, but as quite a few of the rougher fans disappeared, we decided to just go for it & hold it up at the top of the stand for about 5 mins, in the hope that cameras picked up on it, but regardless, we got a few pictures of it amongst the Hamburg crowd, who seemed oblivious to it behind them as they watched the game going on. As close to a mission accomplished as we're getting. The game finishes with Son the best player, & Rudnevs having added a second goal to kill it off.

The Team Oscar flag displayed at half time at Hamburg's stadium

The only train journey we could afford within what little's left in our budget, that would get us to Mons in Belgium in time for our final fixture was a 4am departure.

After the game, we headed for the notorious Reeperbahn, to have a few beers & fill the gap between the game finishing & the train leaving, despite having not seen a bed since waking up in Barcelona on Thursday morning. You can't visit Hamburg & not see the Reeperbahn. It's as seedy a place as you'll ever see, but very unique. We have a few beers in an Irish bar along there (I know, I know, but I'd honestly had enough of the Germans at the football & just wanted somewhere we could talk to people about what our aim was), watched a band (excellent first set but a really dreary 2nd set let them down) & at around 2am we leave to get back to our hostel (unused bed again).

Opening the door to our dorm, a woman screams, jumps out of her bed & comes running at us, flailing her arms & getting more & more worked up as she starts hitting Dean. We get her settled down & she's a French woman, who doesn't speak much English. She's obviously had a few night terrors that got worse when us three stumbled in the door, but it didn't do anything for our hearts, & she slopes out the door, embarassed.

Jamie & Dean decide to get into bed (despite the fact that we're leaving in 15 mins) & I have the nightly ritual of recharging my phone,whilst trying to sort out the next day using the only wi-fi I can get access to.

I'm stood in the corner of a pitch dark room, facing the wall, when the French girl walks back in, & noticing me, she's off again. I suppose it must've looked like something out of the Blair Witch project, as I was stood by the plug, just the glow of my phone illuminating me, so I would've gone tearing back out screaming too.

This wakes Jamie & Dean up, despite having got their heads down about 5 mins earlier & they're not happy. Exactly the reason why any attempt at getting into bed was a recipe for disaster. We go back to the train station, where Jamie decides to have his 4th of those little pizzas, & we are in fact 30 mins early for our train, which only makes those two more annoyed about not getting any sleep. As if all the rushing about wasn't enough for them, they obviously fancied a bit more excitement. Instead, we board the train for one last game. Home straight as we keep being reminded. Surely nothing could go wrong now.....

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

This is wee Oscar himself.

You can donate to our JustGiving page here

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.

Inter The Home Straight- Inter Milan vs Neftchi Baku (6)

You can donate to our Just Giving page where all the funds will go to Oscar here: http://www.justgiving.com/7ma7ches7coun7tries7days

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.

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. 

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.

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.

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....

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

This is wee Oscar himself.

You can donate to our JustGiving page here

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.

Another Messi Adventure- Barcelona vs Benfica (5)

You can donate to our Just Giving page where all funds will go to Oscar here: http://www.justgiving.com/7ma7ches7coun7ries7days

We'd had a fairly miserable time in Paris, & following 4 hours sleep, for the 3rd night in a row, we showered & got ourselves ready to leave for the airport. The snooze button had taken a bit of a beating this morning, & we were already behind schedule. 

Those who've been following this blog from the beginning will be aware that Jamie's sister-in-law had sadly lost her battle with cancer a week before we were due to set off & Jamie was flying back into England from Charles de Gaulle for her funeral, so we said our goodbyes in a bit of a rush before braving the Paris Metro. We flagged a taxi just to ask the question of getting us there on time,but the €150 was a real budget buster, especially following on from the beating our wallets had taken the night previous, so we had to brave the Paris Metro at morning rush hour and were already behind schedule

For new readers, we have a set, joint, budget within which to do this, & so far, it's only been breached to arrange Jamie's last minute flights back home & back out to rejoin us in Hamburg after the funeral, so all costs have to come back off the other end of the trip.

The Metro was worse than we could've imagined & we're 45 minutes from our bus to the airport, when we make our first Metro change, with less than 2 hours till boarding & then a 60km bus journey to get there. Knowing Ryanair's penchant for making an extra quid, there's no way they'll be doing us any favours, & I'm beginning to regret turning down our €150 taxi. 

There are no more flights into Barcelona today after this one, so I'm already weighing up the consequences of missing this flight. An absolute fortune to get back out of Paris, & probably just straight home, as, if we missed the Barcelona game, we would be completely finished. No 7 games in 7 days & we would've let down those who've been following our efforts, those who've been exceptionally generous in their donations & worst of all, wee Oscar himself. 

There was a race to catch the plane before it left.

 I have to admit, my nerves were wrecked at this stage & I was clearly doing Dean's head in. I was trying to scramble together some sort of contingency plan, but as Dean put it "There's no point in worrying until we've definitely missed it. There's no problem yet.".

I was recalculating as every stop passed but it was clear that we needed unbelievable luck to make it, & it seems that someone was watching over us. From then on, every train ran smoothly, every connection was sitting on the platform waiting for us & there was even a bus ready to leave the other side, once we got there. They run every 45 mins, so any more waiting & we would've been sunk. However, the bus was still scheduled to arrive 5 mins after our gate closes & even though we've checked in online, we have extra luggage to put in the hold & that has to be in 40 mins before departure, so were still up against it

The bus mercifully gets in ahead of schedule & I sprint ahead to the check in desk, whilst Dean grabs the bags. Again, we needn't have worried as the desk is still open due to the number of people arguing over having to pay Ryanair's standard charges for excess or oversized baggage, & we're smoothly into line. 

You can always rely on Ryanair to have chaos at their airports. Mad dash through security done, safe in the knowledge that their are other passengers for our flight amongst us, delaying take off, we head to board. They've been disembarking passengers from our plane, so holding back those getting on at a rope. We walk up & they open a rope on the other side which we saunter up to & amazingly are the first to board the flight! After all that panic!

The relief is overwhelming & the adrenalines been going mad so I'm buzzing to be going to Barcelona, my favourite city in Europe. The flight itself is packed with Benfica fans, & our all male cabin crew consist of a Scottish Celtic fan, Portugese Benfica fan & a Spanish Barca fan. As Celtic need Barca to get a result against Benfica tonight, the banter (hate that word) amongst them is relentless, & using every PA announcement to sing their songs & wind each other up. They also take a keen interest in what we're doing & spread the word on Oscar's story to the Benfica fans, which was great.

Arriving in Barcelona, it's T-Shirt weather & the coats come off, as we make our way onto Placa Catalunya. The complete antithesis of Paris for us, we are completely chilled & the city is buzzing. All anyone's talking about is tonight's game & Messi possibly breaking Gerd Muller's record of scoring 85 goals in a single calendar year. He needs 1 to equal it & 2 to have it outright.

We go straight to our digs, a hostel bang in the middle of Placa Catalunya, a fantastic location & the place is brilliant. They still charged us for Jamie's bed but I should've cancelled ahead, so my fault. The plan is to get to the stadium as early as possible to sort tickets, but it turns out there's a Barcelona club shop on the next road which sells them, so bags are in & I have to make a few personal calls to sort out a few things back at home, whilst Dean goes out to sort tickets. Within 1 hour of landing, all the problems that we had are sorted, bags are dropped off, tickets are in hand (well,we have to collect them at the ground, but still) & we have hours to spare. Unbelievable feeling, considering 6 hours ago,we were looking at flights home from Paris.

We carried out a bit of repair work on the flag & bought some Barca stickers, which we stuck in the 'T' & the 'M' in Team Oscar, as a bit of a charm offensive to avoid a repeat of last night. I also wore a Barca jacket to make it clear we weren't rival fans

'Charm Offensive' additions to the banner

We elect to have a beer & our first actual meal that wasn't on the go. As I have Wi-Fi for the first time in ages, I'm planning, & having a Facebook & Twitter offensive to get caught up, & ask Dean to just order my food. When it comes out, it's easily the biggest burger I've ever seen. Had to eat it with a knife & fork! We get chatting to some great Benfica fans & tell them all about Oscar & they're brilliant. Dead knowledgeable about football, except for one girl who said that when Everton played them in the Europa League, the Brazilian lad up front for us was brilliant. Not only was she talking about Jo, who was never brilliant for us, but we lost that game 5-0,so how anyone may have shone in that, I don't know!!

We tell them we were at the Porto game the night before, & they ask what the score was. We tell them they lost 2-1 & they all cheer, & 1 girl felt obliged to explain that "Porto is our Liverpool".

We set off for the Nou Camp around 90 mins before kick off, as it was less than 30 mins on the metro, & other than spending 10 mins trying to figure out how to get of the maze that was the station, it was just as straightforward a journey as Barcelona had delivered thus far.

We picked up the tickets & after marvelling at the wonder that was the Nou Camp, we headed in. Our tickets were lower tier in the Curva Sud, behind the goal & we hung the flag in a great spot behind the goal, in the centre of the goals. It turned out this was in the section where Barcelona's 'Ultra's' are based & we were asked to move it, as they put their own flags up just on kick off. The steward, a young girl who didn't speak much English was a great help to us, & went to find us a spot. The flag was then hung to the left of the goal, between the goal itself & the corner flag & although a few people were sitting in front of it, part obscuring it, it should've been visible, despite the cameras being located on our side.

Dean and I with the banner before kick off

By this stage, the team news is out & although everyone expected a depleted, already-qualified, Barca side, no-one expected it to be so depleted. Puyol was the only regular in the team & there was genuine shock that Villanova would rest Messi, decreasing his chances of breaking the record. Added to this, the game was fast approaching kick off & there was no sign of the late influx of home fans that we witnessed last night. 

The game kicked off with the stadium half empty & it was an absolute turkey of a game. Barca went through the motions & despite creating a few decent chances, Benfica were happy with a draw at the Nou Camp. I found this baffling, as they knew that if Celtic won, they would be out with a draw & Barca had given them a gift in the side they'd put out.

Worse than this, neither side had any attacking threat down their right hand side, which we needed to make sure the flag was seen, & despite a corner count into the double figures, there wasn't one taken in front of the flag. Regardless of this, I got a few texts from people saying they'd seen it (& us) on tv, although they knew to be looking out for it.

At half time, a group of Barca fans came over to look at the flag. They explained that they were also Celtic fans & the green & white drew their attention to come down. We explained the Celtic connection with Oscar, & the picture of Oscar.

One of the group in his Celtic shirt helped with the language barrier. Despite broken English & absolutely obliterated Catalan, he managed to tell me the fantastic story of how, having held a season ticket next to his father since 1982, they travelled together to the 1986 European Cup final. Barcelona were playing Steauea Bucharest & were massive favourites to win their first ever European Cup. Bucharest frustrated them & held on for a landmark rearguard inspired victory. On the coach home, his father broke down in tears. "Don't be upset, papa" he said "Our chance will come", "That was my chance. All I've ever wanted was to see my team lift that cup & it will never happen now". It was then that his father revealed to him that he had been battling against an illness, that would debilitate over time. He was right. He passed away in November 1991, less than six months before Barcelona won their first European Cup. This guy said that he'd been to every one they've played in, excluding the 'square post final'-a story I wasn't familiar with, & since his fathers passing, he toasts each win with a cigar & a brandy, his fathers drugs of choice. That's the sort of story that will stay with me until the day I die & I feel privileged at this stage to have met people like him. Football can be great sometimes

The 2nd half started with the 50,000 in the stadium chanting for Messi (probably less, as I doubt the Benfica fans wanted it) & when he ran down the touch line to warm up in front of us, we knew it was imminent. 35 mins left for Messi to make history, albeit at the other end from the flag. Little did he know that his own personal kryptonite was sitting in the Nou Camp that night. I've seen him play in the flesh on five occasions & each time, he's been poor. One penalty scored in the Bernabeu is the grand sum of what he's done in those games, yet every time I watch him on TV, he's incredible. 

Messi was attempting to carve his name ever more into football folklore that evening

I definitely think he's the best of all time & I'm sure he'll retire with the records to back that up. Last night, he came on cold, into what now felt like a testimonial game & 20 minutes later, departed on a stretcher & my Messi record remained intact

So Barcelona were the first home team to beat our accumulator of 7 home wins (although Ajax is off, so we're down to 6)

After the game, we have the straightforward trip back to Placa Catalunya & we decide to have a couple of beers before bed. The bars full of Benfica fans who are obviously gutted but very keen to tell us about the positive reaction that the flag got from their fans once they explained what it was, so again the word was spreading. I almost felt guilty about the Celtic T-shirt I'd gone & changed into but they knew I was only having the craic (much better word than banter) An Aussie lad we'd been chatting to earlier told us he'd seen the flag from the other end too.

The night gets a little bit livelier & I leave the Dutch barmaids to entertain Dean,whilst I ring my ma. I've not told her anything about what I'm doing, so she's not best pleased at hearing through the grapevine, but she's now got the bit between her teeth & I'm sure Belfast is getting hounded as I write this. Rounding off a great night, we head to bed around 3, safe in the knowledge that we have our half way lie-in in the morning. Barcelona really has been good to us.

Oscar himself! This is the lad with Neuroblastoma we are trying to raise awareness of

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

You can donate to our JustGiving page here

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. 

From Paris With Love - PSG vs Porto (4)

You can donate to our Just Giving page where all funds will go to Oscar Knox here: http://www.justgiving.com/7ma7ches7coun7ries7days

Paris is a city I just can't warm to. I love city life but Paris has been looming over this trip heavily for me. No luck getting the tickets beforehand as I mentioned in a previous blog, they were only selling in packages with 2 other Ligue 1 games. We have to do a French game, & logistically, it's our best bet. Plus I'm a fan of Zlatan. He can play, when he wants to, & I've never seen him in the flesh, so this current PSG team it is.

Before leaving Prestwick (the only place in the UK where Elvis set foot) I had a tweet from someone at UTV asking about our trip & a request to do a radio show. I've been really struggling with Wi-Fi connections, so when I do get some,it's invariably a glut of tweets, e-mails & Facebook requests I have to deal with, (as well as this blog), but this was surprising. I didn't expect this sort of reaction to what we're doing but it's great to get a wee bit more publicity for Oscar's appeal. 

While I'm on it, thank you to those of you who have been making very generous donations to our JustGiving page. It's great to see & I'm told that Newcastle fans have been adding to it as well. Again, I can't speak highly enough of the Geordie fans. Thank you all.

We boarded our first Ryanair flight & had a few pics done with the flag. We knew the pressure was on to get tickets & get on top of the organisation of everything onwards. Landing 5 hrs before kick off,in Paris Beauvais,an airport a full 60km outside of Paris, we knew we were up against it tonight. It proved to be more of a challenge than we thought.

It had an ominous vibe from the moment we landed in Paris. Within minutes of stepping off the plane, the clouds gathered & it began pelting it down with rain. When our bus from the airport dropped us into central Paris, the traffic was literally bumper to bumper across all lanes. It was like a scene from a post-apocalyptic movie, as if the world had ended while we were flying, with cars practically parked up as far as the eye could see, so our only option was to get the Metro across Paris to our hotel. We checked into our Bates motel-esque digs 2 & a half hours before kick off, dropped our bags off & then went straight back out. Grabbing a few 'Le Big Mac's' on the move, we flagged a taxi to get us to the ground as quickly as possible. He rolled his eyes, told us it was a good hour away at least in this traffic, & would subsequently cost a small fortune on the meter, but we had no other choice really as the metro required too many changes from where we were.

So we jumped in the cab & began chatting to Marwan about tickets (I know how Fellaini spells it, but this lad gave me a card, so it's right) & having had a translation done of the little cards we had for each country, big Maro got the gist of what Google translate was trying to say & started making calls to try & get us some spares. It's a miserable night and we're sat in traffic pretty much knowing the game's sold out & it's about 90 mins to kick off. 

By the time we reach the ground, Maro's had no joy, found out that the game's a complete sell-out & advises us to go to a tout, because as he said "no-one will try to rip you off as your dressed like 3 Parisien coppers, with your black jackets. Jamie's definitely got a police look about him"

The cheapest tickets in the ground are €70 face, so we know we're getting stung. The touts are making a killing but we end up getting 3 for a bit over face value & we're set. We discussed the possibility of just 2 of us going in & pooling the money for the tickets, but we stuck with the all for one motto, particularly as Jamie was leaving us in the morning.

So we're in & the place is absolutely empty. We're sat right up in the gods to the left of a goal & just to make things a bit more fun, the entire 3 rows behind us have been bought by Porto fans living in Paris, as we later discovered, & the PSG fans are not happy about it, especially the flags they're flying.

 

"We were looking for a decent spec for our own flag" 

We're looking for a decent spec for our own flag ,when we get a bit of luck- they're taking down some advertising hoardings last minute, I assume at the request of the Champions League & we pounce on it. There's a space for one above the entrance to the concourse, so we get up & hang it down.despite being in the Gods, it must be visible to TV due to the usual advertising board there, so it's a success . 

The Oscar flag before it was taken down by the stewards. 

A couple of people come down to see what it is & I explain to one English speaking fan, who translates for a few others around us. It's a positive response & we go back to our seats, delighted with our work. The flags there for about 10 mins, as the stadium gets fuller & fuller with the local season ticket holders (all of whom have their name on their seats, which is a nice touch, I thought), when a steward comes up to me, pointing at the flag. 

He's gesturing to take it down,so I hand him the card, but he's having none of it. I get up & the crowd around it are booing & shouting. When I get down to the flag, a few are shouting angrily, making all sorts of gestures. The English-speaking French lad tries to argue our case with stewards, but they're just pointing at the crowd, who are getting more & more agressive. As they do so, my translator backs down as if to say "I tried" (which he did, in fairness but there's no reasoning with an angry crowd) & I'm heading back to my seat, dejected. I can only assume they thought it was a rival flag, like Lille or something, because they were so upset.

There was absolutely no other place to hang it, so the game itself was a bit of a downer. Although we got a few pics with the flag before we hung it, it wasn't really a success. Ibrahimovic was beyond awful, the most frustrating footballer I've ever seen, he just couldn't be bothered & the Parisians weren't too impressed. 

I thought Menez & Pastore were fantastic, whilst the big names like Zlatan, Thiago Silva & Lavezzi were disappointing,although the latter 2 scored the goals. Porto were a neat & tidy side, but threatened rarely, but I was quite impressed with PSG. Decent side, played some great stuff, & should've won by more. 

Not good enough to win the Champions League in my opinion but should cause 1 or 2 problems later on. Should also mention their RB as well! Again, haven't researched his name but if any Evertonians thought Tony Hibbert or Phil Neville were whipping boys, they should've seen this lad. Booed & jeered every time he touched the ball, & he duly obliged by having a shocker!

After the game, we headed for the metro & it did feel like a defeat. We were tired & down & the Metro platform was packed, so I suggested stopping for a biere, before jumping on. 3 50cl Kronenbergs came to a whopping €28.80 & we were done. Paris had beaten us, so we finished up before sloping off into the rain & the trek all across Paris to our hotel. Nearby,we found a little place & had a few (cheaper) Leffe's,which turned out to be 9% stuff, whilst I got to sample a Desperado's red, a new twist on Desperado's with Cacacha & Taurine. We had to have a beer to give Jamie a send-off, as he was travelling home sadly, for a family funeral, & we got to bed around 3, knowing we had to be up at 7 to make our flight to Barcelona.

 

"Whilst I got to sample a Despardo's Red - a new twist on Desperado's with Cacacha and Taurine" 

I would not be sorry to see the back of Paris, but it wasn't finished with us yet.

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 terrible disease. 

Please read Oscar's Blog here: http://oscarknox.blogspot.co.uk/?m=1 

You can donate to our JustGiving page here

7 Games Ba None - Newcastle vs Wigan (3)

You can donate to our Just Giving page where all funds will go to Oscar Knox here: http://www.justgiving.com/7ma7ches7coun7ries7days

I've got an admission to make here. When it comes to English football, I hate 91 clubs in the football league, just on a sliding scale. Some weekends, when Everton struggle, I hate 92. Newcastle Utd have massively altered my viewpoint on English football in general, especially after last night's game.

As a club they couldn't do enough for us. As football fans and more importantly as people, they couldn't ask enough about Oscar's appeal, & they completely got what we were trying to achieve.

Having once again met up with Jamie & Dean at Newcastle station, we stored my luggage at the bus depot & made our way to St James' Park, stopping off to try a few bottles of Newcie Broon, & the customary pre-match Jäger-bombs.

Having struggled a little at Man City & Hibs,we were determined to make sure the flag could be seen clearly on TV, so we had a change of tact going in. We decided not to take any pictures outside & draw attention to the flag until we were inside the ground. We needn't have bothered. Once inside the ground, we made our intentions clear to the stewards & they couldn't help us enough.

Myself, Jamie and Dean with the flag post match

They agreed we could hang the flag on a rail a few rows in front of our seats,directly behind the goal in the Gallowgate end. Unfortunately, due to a massive Barclaycard hoarding,we only had 6ft of space to hang a 10ft flag, & as it only has toggles on the 4 corners, it inevitably sagged massively in the middle. 

We agreed that the flag wouldn't be interfered with during the game, to avoid irritating other spectators, & as there was a howling gale blowing through the Gallowgate, the flag drooped as Demba Ba rolled a penalty into the exact corner where the flag was. This picture of Gary Neville on Sky would've been perfect if it was displayed properly. But here is one below from a friend who caught it on a football stream.

"The flag drooped as Demba Ba rolled a penalty into the exact corner where the flag was"

Having touched on earlier how great the Newcastle fans were, I must admit that when Ba scored a second, I was up & out of my seat,celebrating. Not like I would celebrate an Everton goal, I have to say, but at least on a par with a goal someone else would score against Liverpool.

Half time came & my phone was going mad, with people saying they'd seen the flag,but we knew it wasn't visible enough to get the message across. we tried to sort the flag out. Someone managed to find some gaffer tape to secure the middle & we were sorted. The flag was much better now, & gave us this result which was apparently put onto Oscar's FB page, which is pleasing.

People were having their pictures taken with us & the flag, & it'll be interesting to see if those pics turn up on the web anywhere to help spread the word. We have been handing out little laminated cards, that my wife has lovingly hand made, which contained Oscar's blog web address & a little bit of info on what we are trying to achieve through this.

As Maynor Figueroa had been sent off in the first half, they were never going to threaten our end, & we were just hoping for glimpses on goal kicks & that. Newcastle added a third to completely kill the game off. Great goal by the no. 20, I have to say, but I've still no idea who he is.

One of the goal kicks that the flag was visible in the 2nd half on TV

After the game, as we were packing the flag away, a Newcastle fan from Belfast came over. He told us he'd held a fundraiser in the Davitt's club in Belfast for Oscar's appeal, raising over £1500, so well done that man.

After the game,we had a mad dash to get away, as we had to get an overnight bus to Glasgow. The bus was duly half an hour late & we arrived at our hotel in Glasgow at about 4am, having to be up at 8 to make our way to Paris.

Taking our continental breakfasts with us, our train arrived into Prestwick airport, as we were still eating bowls of cornflakes on it, such was our rush. In the midst of all this, despite being still in the UK, I'm really struggling to get online. I only have my phone for internet & haven't had a second to sleep barely, let alone get to an internet cafe, so to those who have been e-mailing, tweeting, facebooking etc, I apologise but will get onto it as soon as I get the chance.

Despite this, we see the news coming through on TV that an Assistant Referee has been killed in Holland, & all Dutch games will be called off this weekend as a mark of respect. So Saturday, won't be involving Ajax now.

However, Paris is our priority & it's my biggest concern. We're landing, less than 5 hrs before kick off, at Paris Beauvais, which is 60 miles from Central Paris. We have to pick up our bags, check into our hotel, drop the bags off, then get straight off to the stadium. We don't have any tickets yet either,as they would only sell them as part of a package with 2 other Ligue 1 games. No use to us, & €150 each was too rich for our blood anyway. We don't speak the language,& even if we do get in,we have the renewed challenge of getting the flag in & hung without upsetting the locals. No pressure then.

Watch out for news of the Paris match in the next blog.

As always please read Oscar's blog here http://oscarknox.blogspot.co.uk/?m=1

Please donate to our Just Giving page for Oscar Knox here http://www.justgiving.com/7ma7ches7coun7ries7days

And again in case you are unsure, the trip has been funded 100% by ourselves, but we are using it to raise awareness of Oscar Knox's plight and hopefully help raise funds for his treatment.

Have A Heart - Hibs vs Hearts (2)

You can donate to our JustGiving page where all funds will go to Oscar Knox here http://www.justgiving.com/7ma7ches7coun7ries7days

(Note: This post is regarding travelling to the Hibs vs Hearts game on the Sunday, internet problems prevented getting it up- the Newcastle Monday night game post will be up shortly).

First of all, apologies for not updating last night. Intended to on the train back to Manchester, but my battery died, so it never happened. Jamie & Dean had a nice early flight up to Edinburgh, having to be at Luton for 6.30am.  Dean wisely made it to bed for 2 the night before, so he was off to a flyer.


I had a much more reasonable start, setting off for a 9am train out of Piccadilly. Keeping in contact with those 2 the whole journey, I admit to being a little bit jealous when I was receiving pictures of them drinking German beers at the Edinburgh station, even if it was only 10am. About 15 mins from pulling into Edinburgh station, the driver announced that we'd come to a stop because he'd hit a 'large bird' & it had taken out the windscreen! What else can you do but laugh at something like that?

The beer I was envious of Dean and Jamie supping.

Having arrived in Edinburgh, I was blown away. I've always liked it as a city, but I'd only ever been in the spring/summer months. Edinburgh in the winter is something else. It was crisp, but not particularly cold, the Christmas markets & shopping was in full flow, & the atmosphere brilliant. Seeing all those old buildings, the hills & the Firth of Forth in that light was fantastic. l genuinely fell in love with the city & was gutted to set off back for Manchester after the game.

After meeting the lads for a swift pint (in a wetherspoons, no less- great taste of Edinburgh's culture,eh?) & ticking Tennents off my list of local beers (I know, but I was gasping at this stage) we had our pre-match Jager's & headed off for the Port of Leith.

I'm a big fan of Irvine Welsh's writing & was really looking forward to this part,as most of his books are set in & around here. I don't know whether I was looking romantically at Edinburgh, or if it was because every inch of the Leith walk was bouncing in anticipation of derby day, but Leith was fantastic. The characters we spoke to & the humor was fantastic. Every single one of the old pubs were calling me in, but we had a game to get to.

A shot before the trip of the flag - look out for some better ones in future posts.

We turned up at the turnstiles bang on kick off, having taken a wrong turn towards the away end. My bag was searched & they made a few calls to the control room to check the flag was ok. The stewards gave it the ok but just as I was going through,a call came down saying the flag couldn't be hung,as it was a televised game & Sky regarded this as 'advertising'. Unbelievable. We'd already explained what the cause was, but the argument was that if this was allowed,every one would be bringing a flag promoting a charity. Fair point, but I fail to see the issue with that. As Jamie said, I'd much rather see things like that at the football than ads for McDonalds, Budweiser or William Hill. However, that's a debate for another time.



They tried to confiscate the flag but as we'd already discussed this with Hibs, they hadn't a leg to stand on. We eventually reached the compromise,that the flag could be displayed at half time, but we were told in no uncertain terms that if the cameras pick up on it,we'd be thrown out, & the flag would be taken.  So that was that. As it was, the flag raised a lot of interest amongst Hibs fans anyway,which was the initial goal with all this, before tv came into it. The more football fans that are asking about Oscar Knox, the better.

'Easter Road was a better stadium than I anticipated'

As for the game itself, it was impressive. Easter Road was a better stadium than I anticipated & the place was understandably rocking for a cup derby. The usual tribal insults being hurled back & forth kept us amused, but the game itself wasn't too hot. First half, I felt that Hearts just bullied a young Hibs side (didn't realise how young their team was) but Hibs did have a few tricky little players that could cause a few problems. The second half started the same, but Hibs got better & better as it went on & I thought that Ivan Sproule coming on as a late sub gave them the impetus they needed. I may be biased as Ivan's a Tyrone man, but that's my opinion. 80+ mins on the clock & Hibs flashed a shot across the bows & by all accounts, Hearts' skipper & panto villain Zalaouskis, turned it into his Own Goal. The place went mental & it was brilliant to be in amongst that. Dean even had a spell goading the hearts fans down to our left, as well as a few hearts players taking throw ins right in front of us.

The celebrations at the end were class & the manager, Pat Fenlon made a point of coming to every corner of the ground to applaud the support.

The walk back down Leith was electric, but after stopping off in the club shop for a little souvenir, I had just half an hour to get back to Waverley station,so we started legging it through Leith following Jamie's maps on his phone. We inadvertently ran straight into the police escorting the Hearts fans back to town & I've no idea how we ended up amongst them. It was a little tense & a couple of fans made a run to get through the barricade but on the whole, it was mainly just verbal abuse.

We made it into town, with a few minutes to make the train, so we're off running again. Jamie tearing up those steep Edinburgh hills was something but once we got to Waverley he took an entire staircase in a single bound. Shook up quite a few Christmas shoppers, that one. Credit where it's due, he took it like a man in his early 30's, let alone late. It was all to no avail anyway, as the train had long gone by the time I got there. So,after a trip to KFC, I said my goodbyes & left those 2 to enjoy the night out in Edinburgh. So I ended the day just as I'd started; jealous.

Oscar's Flag Mentioned on The Anfield Wrap

The reason for my trip back to Manchester was for work. Back in there for 7am this morning, absolutely manic day tying up loose ends before setting off, then a dash to Piccadilly for a train to Newcastle, where (I was) currently writing this.

Jamie & Dean are already there, so I've got to drop my luggage off somewhere when I get in, get over to the ground, get some pics taken outside the ground with the flag before going through this rigmarole of getting the flag in again. Tonight's a crucial point for us, because having failed at City, & having only achieving half the goal at Hibs, it's our last chance to polish our technique before we hit Paris tomorrow there, there'll be no chance of talking our way in, even if the flag is, as the French would say, Bonnet de Douche.

I'm honestly a little nervous, as the games on Sky again, so expecting the same response as Hibs, but that's why it's a challenge. The t-shirts will be out tonight & they are bright (Jamie's going topless, in keeping with Geordie traditions).

Straight after the game, we're on the Dara O'Briain overnight bus to Glasgow (checking into our digs at 3am) to get our 12 o'clock flight to Paris. I'm sure there'll be plenty to add to this by then, least of all the tales of Jamie & Dean's night out in Leith.

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

You can donate to our JustGiving page for Oscar Knox here http://www.justgiving.com/7ma7ches7coun7ries7days

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.

The Practice Run (1)

I'm writing this blog on the eve of it all starting. Putting together the final touches to the flag, packing, & double checking itineraries (I've checked it 1000 times to be fair, but I fully expect something to be wrong, still)

Tomorrow morning, I set off from Manchester by train for the Edinburgh derby, which should be a cracker. I've wanted to go to Hibs for a long time &, although this was a late addition to our schedule, I'm really looking forward to it. The green & white flag should fit in quite nicely at Easter Road. Kick-off's at 3.30pm, so keep your eyes peeled (it may be more difficult to spot amongst the other green flags)

I took the flag with me to Man City v Everton today as a bit of a practice run for the week ahead. The stewards were very helpful going in, & it raised a lot of attention as they unfolded it to check it, but once inside, as I was sat Lower Tier, there was nowhere to hang it, only advertising hoardings which couldn't be obscured. I asked some stewards to help me out, even to take it up & hang from a higher tier, but it couldn't be done. They did hang it on the wall at the back of the away end, but it was too near the disabled supporters & obstructed a couple of their views, hanging over their heads, so had to come down. Gives us a little bit of food for thought going forward, but most of the tickets we have so far, seem to be in higher tiers, so we can just hang it from the front

Everything that we could do before we leave has been done, so we just have to hope that everything runs for us. I will definitely be updating this blog tomorrow & Monday, after the first 2 legs, but once we're on the continent, things will get a bit more hectic, so just in case I don't get a chance, I'd like to thank a few people for their help on this. 

First of all, my wife Sian who I feel guilty setting off on the adventure of a lifetime, leaving her at home alone. However, she has not only been supportive throughout, she's actively encouraged it. As well as that, she has helped out with every little detail she could. As is the case in every other aspect of my life, I'd be lost without her.

Secondly, when things have (oft) gone pear-shaped, & I've had to deal with the logistics, the publicising of what we're doing has suffered. A friend of the 3 of ours, Hij, has stepped up to the plate & being contacting every possible source he can. His efforts have been a great help & massively appreciated by the 3 of us. 

Paul, who was originally supposed to be coming with us, has carried on researching itineraries & contacting clubs to try & sort things out, even after he was unable to come along. I know he's gutted to be missing out, & circumstances beyond his control have made it impossible, but we really appreciate the work he's put in.

To everyone who's been reading this blog, sharing it via social media, & just taking any sort of interest in Oscar's story. The whole idea of this is to do something novel using a game that unites so many people around the world, using a common interest to promote Oscar's story. He really does deserve all the help he can get, & his parents are inspirational people as well. Everyone who has been donating to our Justgiving page also.It really is appreciated. 

If anyone can suggest anything we can do to use this adventure to promote Oscar's cause further this week, please contact us via the comments. 

To anyone who's new to what exactly we're trying to achieve, please read the original blog,(http://oscarsflag.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/7-top-flight-football-matches-in-7.html) which should explain more. To anyone reading who is unfamiliar with the story of Oscar Knox, please read this blog (http://oscarknox.blogspot.co.uk/). You can also donate to our JustGiving page here (http://www.justgiving.com/7ma7ches7coun7ries7days)

Thank you