Monthly Archives: September 2007

The oldest swingers in town – Rooney would love it!

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Nurnberg is one of my favourite places in Europe. It has so much history, so many fantastic buildings and loads of decent bars. In terms of football it has a passionately supported team who play in one of the most unique stadiums in Germany. It also has some fond memories for me including the World Cup match in June 2006 when England struggled to over come a very weak Trinidad and Tobago team. On that very hot day my travelling companion was Football Jo (it also includes George the Greek and two unnamed England fans that Jo has picked up in the hotel in Munich and invited them into the Merc for the 2 hour drive north), and whilst enjoying the atmosphere in the main town square we planned to come back to see the culture without the vomit, sunburnt beer bellies and “No Surrender” chants at a later point.

So 15 months later we headed back to Nuremburg, with CMF to keep us (well me) company. We had a rough plan, in which football initially did not play a part. It was to be a weekend of culture, fine food, lots of German beer, and an opportunity for Football Jo to add to her collection of “alternative” DVD’s (for more information on her unusual hobby see March 2008′s post on “Football, Goulash and the Rivers of Piss”). The two things that changed our plans were 1) The amazing weather, and 2) The prospect of a new stadium within a 10 minute train ride and a convenient time.

We arrived early on the Saturday morning, having deposited the little Fuller’s at their Grandparents up north. A two day trip in not quite enough for them to start forgetting what electric lights, knives and forks and computers are but it is a close thing and we have to spend the journey home re-training them on saying words like “Bath, Bus and Roll” instead of “Baath, Bous and Cob”. The sun was already shining at 9am so we decided to head direct for the centre of the action with an early morning tipple in the market square that was so packed in June 2006. Jo had two things on her shopping list – clothes peg porn (as it reads) and bed socks. As the former wasn’t really on show in the market square, we spent a futile 30 minutes looking for the latter, whilst she browsed in amazement at some of the stalls – “Ohh look, they sell dish clothes”…”wow, look at this stall selling batteries”….as I have said before she doesn’t get out of the community care much.

We headed down to one of the best museums in Europe in my opinion, and also the one with the longest name – The Dokuzentrum Reichsparteitagsgelande Fazination und Gewalt. Basically if you have ever wondered about how the Nazi party went from being basically a trade union with no power, to the world’s most destructive force in little more than 10 years then this is the place to come. It is spread over two floors of a new building constructed within the biggest remaining Nazi building – a construction that was to be twice the size of the Coliseum in Rome. It traces the roots of the Nazi foundations from 1933, through the war and the collapse in 1945 through film, pictures and a self guided audio trail. It is located within the old parade grounds area to the south of the city centre, and is a great base for exploring some of the other remnants of the Nazi empire including the platforms where Hitler and go used to preach their messages of hate to 100,000 soldiers, the monument to the dead and the foundations of the Nazi Stadium, a much structure that was to hold 400,000 when complete. The whole area is surreal to visit. On a later Summer’s day with blue sky all above, and families enjoying picnics, boating on the lake and rollerblading it was hard to believe that some of the worst acts of human barbarity had been planned on this very ground. The original plan of making Nuremburg the most famous city in the whole world came within a few years of being reality. After a few hours of exploring we headed back into the city centre for some more traditional entertainment.

The weekend was also hosting some of the key games in the Rugby World Cup, so with West Ham’s early season defeat to Arsenal already secured we headed for the sanctuary of the nearest Irish bar for some oval ball action. Having seen Scotland narrowly fail to lose to Italy we lined up the Guinness for a few hours of Welsh humiliation at the hands of the Fijians. And sure enough they failed to disappoint as they took every chance in the book to throw away the game 38-34 to the south Islanders. With a few pints of Irish’s finest inside us, we decided to head back to the hotel for a quick change, and a quick session before we headed out for food. The night was drawing in, and the shops were closing. As on Sunday’s in Germany shops do not open, Jo was very disheartened that she had not managed to find her socks or her porn. We walked back towards the hotel when all of a sudden on the horizon appeared one of Germany’s most well known brands. Beate Uhse is as famous in Germany as Primark and Burtons are in the UK, except their wares are a little more of an adult nature. Ann Summers is positively conservative compared to these shops, and so it was with glee that Football Jo ran into the shop like a child entering Willy Wonka’s Chocolate factory for the first time. As I have already explained dear reader, the usual hardcore stuff featuring some of the most stunning porn stars in the world enjoying life in all sorts of places, positions and scenarios doesn’t actually appeal to her. Amusement was had by two of the three of our party at the series of “Bridget the Midget” DVD’s, but it was the titles such as “Debbie does Dallas all at once”, “Court Marshalled” and “Nipple Pegfest” that attracted her attention. With a few new titles secured for her collection, her weekend was complete and so we headed back towards the hotel.

The city is surrounded by old walls with wooden fortifications on top,giving the appearance of a citadel. We walked along the old walls for a while before we came to the road behind the hotel. And here we received our first shock of the day, for this was the red light district in the city. That in itself is not a problem. The issue was the “quality” of the goods on display. Hanging out of the windows (like Amsterdam but al fresco) were some of the oldest and roughest looking women you would ever want to meet. Most men’s taste drastically reduces over the course of an evening, and we have been known in jest to judge ladies on a scale of pints – for instance Keeley Hazell would be a half pinter, Charlotte Church a two pinter, Sian Lloyd a six pinter and Emma Riley (her of Emmerdale and You’ve been Framed fame) a fifteen pinter. These women would definitely be in the double figure mark. It also appeared that the towels that they draped outside their windows seemed to signify something. To us a red towel seemed to signify false teeth, blue false teeth and wig and yellow false teeth, wig and new hip joint. However, what was even more shocking was that it appeared that many had customers, based on the windows being closed. This was 7pm – so unless these Germans had been on the sauce all day, they obviously had so little confidence on scoring on a night out or simply had some strange taste in women. It takes all sorts obviously but to have such a concentration of such Rooney-esque talent all in one place must either be a huge tourist draw, or the equivilant of a rest house for old prostitutes from all over Europe.

Dinner was a very cozy affair. We found a guesthouse around the corner from the hotel that was rammed at 8pm,and with a menu offering home cooked food and some decent German wines, we headed on in and shared a table with a German family. Now, everyone nows that all Germans can understand English, yet only 1% of the English can understand German. Poor Jo had difficulty getting her head around this and launched into a graphic description at the table about the new DVD’s she had bought, and having watched one pre-dinner on her laptop, how good it was compared to some of the others she has bought in Amsterdam a few weeks previous (including the wonderfully named Dickie Dogg – think Emma Riley meeting Shep). Obviously Mr and Mrs Ballack, and the little Michael’s could understand every single word, plus a few new ones judging by the colour of Frau Ballack, and I have never seen a family eat their 3 courses so quickly before departing.

After a couple of nightcaps, Jo wanted another wander around the houses so to speak to see who was buying and selling. No real change there as knitting had been replaced by whoring as the favourite Saturday night activity for the Derby and Joan club. There was a distinct lack of punters willing to get any value adds so we beat a hasty retreat to the hotel Jakobsmarkt. Our room was a strange affair. A 70′s style living room, with a kitchen, and then a stairway up to a huge bedroom in the attic and a massive long thin bathroom. Perfect for us to “explore” although poor Football Jo had to make do with her single bed in a cupboard for the same price.

Sunday brought another stunning day. Indian summer temperatures were perfect for a quiet stroll around the city. Jo wanted to see what windows were still open at 10am on Sunday and sure enough the old ladies who had probably been up since 4am, been to the shops, cleaned the house and cooked Sunday lunch, were open for business. We headed off for a wander around the old town, which as I have mentioned before is stunning. Old fashion mill houses hug the river throughout the centre, and little pubs, restaurants and cafes made a wonderful setting for a lazy Sunday morning. As if by magic I had found out that 2nd division Fuerth were at home at 2pm. Fuerth is a suburb of Nuremburg and being only a 10 minute S-Bahn trip down the road it would have been rude to have come so far and not go to the match.

It was carnival time in the region and so when we reached Fuerth the centre was in party mood. German football fans love their beer and the Fuerth fans were tucking into the beer and the fantastic Nurnberg sausages (amazing if you can find them – served in a portion of 5 in a bun with mustard), enjoying the day. The team were on the fringes of the promotion places after a good start to the season and had a reputation as a friendly club, and certainly based on the fans who willingly came over and started chatting to us the reputation was deserved.

We headed up to the stadium, secured our tickets and took in what we thought was the shade. Here my brilliant understanding of German let us down again as we could not have been more in the very hot Sunday sunshine if we tried. Beer was on the agenda to cool us down, and having a sensible set of rules we could drink as much as we wanted in the seats, as long as we paid our 1 Euro deposit for the plastic cups.

Carls Zeiss Jena are one of the most notable ex-East German teams, having played many a season in the UEFA Cup in the dark days of the 70′s and 80′s. They are named after the famous scientist who developed some of the best optical lenses which are today heavily used by the military as well as in some of the top of the range SLR cameras. They were struggling at the foot of the table early in the season but still brought a fair away following on such a beautiful day and were in fine voice. The stadium was not dissimilar to a lower league English one – with one main stand set apart from essentially three temporary stadiums. The Playmobil name came about from the company who are based close by and not the actual material used to built the stadium unfortunately.

The teams emerged to a generous welcome from the fans, none more so that a massive fat bloke who was waving one of the biggest flags you will see who had obviously taken his share of beer and sausages, along with a few other peoples as well. The heat was obviously a factor for the teams as they struggled to put any decent moves together in the opening exchanges. It wasn’t until the 20th minute that we saw the first real shot on goal, and even then it was one that Jonny Wilkinson would have been proud of.

After a goal less first half, the second half started with Fuerth stepping the play up a gear. Eventually they found a way through with a corner that eluded everyone, including the Jena goalkeeper at the near post and went directly in. Despite equalising within 10 minutes, it was always going to be the home teams game and so it was no surprise when the winner came on the 75th minute mark with a swift move up the field and a crisp finish from 12 yards by the impressive Fuerth captain.

With the sun still shining we made our way on foot back to the station, picked up our bags and headed off to the airport back to reality. CMF and myself happy to have spent some quality time together in a beautiful city in the sunshine,Football Jo happy in the fact she had got some more deviant porn. Well, you can’t please everyone – she still didn’t get her bed socks.

About the Playmobil Stadion
The stadium is a typical German affair, with one single terrace, the North stand, and three separate seated stands. The main stand is a tall affair, similar to the main stand at Lincoln City’s Sincil Bank which only covers a third of the length of the pitch. On the opposite side of the stadium is a covered single tier structure which is raised around 6 foot above the pitch from row one meaning that views are very good. Behind the south stand there is a narrow but tall temporary stand that is home to the away fans, next to a open seated area that wraps around to nearly join the main stand.

The stadium looks and feels like a lower division stadium with the impression that stands have been added on a piecemeal basis. There are plenty of refreshment bars around the outside of the stadium, as well as a covered area behind the main stadium which doubles up as a stage area for some after the match partying. There is a big screen above the south stand that replays goals scored by the home team only.

Who plays there?
The Playmobil Stadion is home to the fiercely proud SpVgg Greuther Fürth who currently play in the Bundesliga 2. They were formed in 1930, although the current club came into existence in 1996 after a merger between SpVgg Fürth and TSV Vestenbergsgreuth. Whilst their success more recently has been very modest, they were one of the teams that shaped early German football – winning the national championships in 1914, 1926 and 1929.

However, after the war the team slipped down the leagues and were firmly rooted in the 3rd tier of German football come the formation of the Bundesliga in 1963. Since then they have yet to grace the top division, although in the past two seasons they have finished 4th and 5th. They have a fierce rivalry with local neighbours 1.FC Nürnberg that has been known to boil over both on and off the pitch.

How to get there
The Playmobil Stadion is located less than a mile from the town centre of Fürth, and around 5 miles from Nuremberg. The nearest station to the stadium is Rathaus on U1 line, some 10 stops from Nuremberg Hauptbahnhof. When you exit the stadium you can either walk the 15 minutes or so to the stadium, or catch one of the regular shuttle buses that wait outside the stadium and take around 5 minute to drop you on the west of the stadium. If you do want to walk then come out of the station and turn left, following the road downhill. When you reach the river, turn right across the bridge and follow the main road for 500 yards. At this junction turn left and head up the hill. The stadium is around 400 yards on your right hand side.

Getting a ticket
There is no issues in getting tickets to watch games at the Playmobil Stadion at the gate. The main ticket office is outside the main stand on the west side of the stadium. Tickets range in price from €21 in the main covered stand to €14 for a place on the north terrace. During the winter months when temperatures plummet making watch a game on either the open terrace or the open seating in the south stand very uncomfortable. A good bet for the neutrals is the covered seats in blocks G or H which cost €19. The official website does have an online facility, but you will have to pick tickets up on the day of the game from the ticket office.

Getting around
Fürth is really a suburb of Nuremberg, and is connected to the main city via the U1 line which links the two in less than 15 minutes. A one day travel card for €3.60 allows unlimited transport in both areas. Local buses supplement the U-Bahn network, which basically runs through four stops in the town – Hauptbahnhof to the Klinikum.

Local Hotels & Bars
Whilst many people will simply by-pass the centre of Fürth coming to and from football at the Playmobil Stadion, it does have more than enough places to sleep, eat and drink to not be missed. The Tourist information centre can be contacted on +49 911 974 1206 if you need any further assistance.

NH Hotel Fürth – Königstrasse 140
Tel: +49 911 74040 http://www.nh-hotels.com
NH Hotel Forsthaus Fürth – Zum Bogelsang 20
Tel: +49 911 779880 http://www.bh-hotels.com
Parkhotel Fürth – Rudolf-Breitscheid Strasse 15
Tel: +49 911 776 666 http://www.parkhotel-fuerth.de

In terms of places to eat, the town centre has a number of Bratwuerst stands along Fuerther Freiheit and in the pedestrian area. One of the local delicacies is Leberkäs Semmel which is similar to meat loaf in a roll. Other restaurants include:-

Zum Tannenbaum – Rathaus
Asia Küche – Hauptbahnhof platz
Our Place – Behind Rathaus U-Bahn stop

There are a number of bars that are dedicated to the football club around the stadium which are more than welcoming to neutral fans. Alternatively there are numerous decent bars around the Hauptbahnhof including:-

Las Palmeras – Near U-Bahn station Stadtgrenze
Stara Chata – Angerstrasse

Nearest Airport – Nuremberg Airport (NUE)
Telephone: +49 911 93700
Website: http://www.airport-neurnberg.de

The small airport is located 7km north of the city. It is mainly used as a base for regional German airlines. It has two terminals with basic services including duty free shops, 2 restaurants, numerous bars and an observation deck. The airport has seen little expansion since it opened fifty years ago. Last year the airport handled over 3 million passengers. Currently the airport can only be reached by Air Berlin from the UK. U-Bahn line 1 runs directly from outside the terminal to the city centre in less than 15 minutes and costs €1.30 single or €3.60 for a day ticket.

Red Bull Shit

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With only two months to go before England’s fate would be decided by the super powers of Russia and Croatia I was still on course to complete my research for Euro2008 and hopefully the trip to Salzburg would not be the last time I would be seeing the city for football purposes.

Now this was one trip that I was looking forward to. Salzburg is one of the most historic cities in Europe. Home to Mozart and the Sound of Music, as well as one of the most depressing stories of corporate greed in football today.

The trip had been planned to take in a regular Austrian Bundesliga game versus Austria Karnten – who themselves can claim no history themselves (for more details see the section on Klagenfurt). Red Bull had won the 2006/07 season at a canter, mainly due to the fact they had more money than sense, and a management team of the Italian Trapattoni and the German Matthaus not only dominated the league but also monopolised the media. This season looked like going the same way, although Matthaus had got bored of playing 2nd fiddle and had departed some months before.

Many people may remember Salzburg in their run to the UEFA Cup final a few years ago. At the time they were known as Casino Salzburg – primarily because the Casino is located across the road from the ground. A couple of years ago the club were floundering in the Austrian league, and with Euro2008 just having been awarded to Switzerland, the club were desperate to attract some investment both into the club but also the bland stadium.

In stepped Red Bull and the meglomaniacal ideas of its owner Dietrich Mateschitz, who had recently formed the Red Bull racing team out of a hangar at Salzburg Airport. Red Bull took over the club, lock, stock, barrel, history and club culture. They started as they meant to go on announcing to the fans “This is a new club with no history”, changed the club colours to Red and White and of course dropped the name Casino in favour of Red Bull. Quite a way to endear yourself to the fans in the first week!

More of the football later. Obviously being in one of Europe’s most visited tourist destinations I did not expect a quiet few days in the city, and with the dull drizzle taking hold as soon as the plane had landed my original idea of finding a nice pavement cafe for a few Steigl’s was ruled out early doors. The whole city is very compact, with the airport being no more than 3 miles from the centre (and almost ajoined to the football stadium to the north). A short bus ride dropped me right outside the gates of one of the most famous houses in Austria – the MIrabell Palace. After fighting my way through the Japanese tourists, all armed with cameras and umbrellas – a deadly combination in anyone’s book, I got a glimpse of the famous steps, where Julie Andrews did her “Do Rey Me” stuff in the Sound of Music. The view from here through the gardens and up to the Hohensalzburg which dominates the city is impressive to say the least on a cloudy day, let alone on a summer’s day, although I do not think you would get close due to the tourist crowds.

I spent the rest of the day doing the tourist things. A couple of (surprisingly interesting) hours wandering around the Salzburg museum, which obviously does not have any rights to Mozart and so omitted him from the city’s famous people section, up by funicular to the Hohensalzburg, down again through the historic Getreidegasse and of course no visit to Salzburg would be complete without a visit to the birthplace of Mozart. And a few words at this point on Wolfgang Amadeus. You cannot miss his bust anywhere in town. Sweets, coffees, beers, aprons, dogs – you name it and its branded…And people buy this shit by the bucket loads. The biggest seller are called Mozart Balls – salty dark chocolate with a marzipan filling – yum yum!

I had the foresight to grab a hotel room just a couple of doors down from Mozart’s house in Getreidegasse. With an early flight I thought it would be useful to get a few hours sleep before the football, and escape from the hordes pounding past my hotel window. I woke up starving, and with 90 minutes to kick off I thought I should go and eat first. However, during my hour power nap the city appeared to have gone through some kind of time shift as darkness had fallen and all of the tourists had been removed by their alien spacecraft, to be replaced by stylish locals enjoying getting their city back. The other unfortunate side of such cities as Salzburg is that almost all of the restaurants were Mozart themed. Mozart Soup was (apparently) is favourite – a meat broth with dumplings. Mozart Schnizel was cooked (apparently) by his mother and was a normal schnitzel cooked in sauce, and of course Mozart Ice Cream was (apparently) his favourite..It appeared to me as Vanilla with a strange sauce that looked and had the texture of tar…I gave that one a miss and had a much duller (but more delicious) Strudle.

I had eventually managed to secure a media ticket for this game after emailing the club on over a dozen occasions. It is often hard to explain to foreign clubs exactly what I do and why I need a media ticket. Some clubs (and even national associations) simply give me a pass, and access to almost everywhere. Sometimes they make me jump through hoops, but eventually give me my own backstage pass. And finally, there are those organisations that unless you own a national newspaper, or have played 100 times for your country will not even return an email. What makes it hard to fathom is that UEFA and FIFA some of the most beauocratic organisations in the world sit in the first category, yet clubs like Bury, Rochdale and Wrexham are most definitely in the latter category. Salzburg sort of sat in the middle. It was a bit of a disappointment not to get a proper pass that I could put round my neck, but I did get free entry and as many Mozart balls as I could eat.

My seat was next to the dug out, three rows from the front. I headed down to my seat early to soak up the atmosphere. There was certainly quite a party in town, with pumping Euphoric-breakdown type music and disco lights blazing down from the roof but someone had forgotten to invite the guests. With 15 minutes until kick off there was no more than 3,000 crammed in at one end of the stadium. I was joined by a couple of local celebrities, based on the number of people who kept coming up and asking for autographs. They tried to engage me, using the only common language we know – football. They laughed when I said I was a West Ham fan, but with my beloved Hammers playing Plymouth Argyle in the Carling Cup back home they could understand my anguish as I kept an eye on the phoen awaiting the avalanche of goals.

The game was sterile to say the least. It was if a large corporate had come along and taken the soul out of the club and replaced it with tins of energy drinks. What was funny was that for a team sponsored by Red Bull, the team were very lethargic and it took a stroke of fortune in the first half for the team not to go in a goal behind.

What did become obvious in the 2nd half was that the sparten crowd a) did not like Trapattoni and especially his negative tactics, and b) most of the team. The abuse that started raining down on the play maker (and ex-Crystal Palace midfielder ) Sasa Ilic was a case in point. However, the club had the last laugh eventually as three goals by Red Bull in the final 5 minutes gave them an undeserved win, and returned them to the top of the table.

After the game, with everyone making their way out of the stadium, all of the media guests (and that was me!) got a Red Bull goodie bag, including a postcard of a Red Bull plane, a Red Bull girls (ok – skinny fit) T-Shirt and of course a can of Red Bull – just what I wanted after being up since 5am that morning! The good thing was that most people had parked in the shopping centre opposite and so the bus back to town was almost empty. With the drizzle again falling in the old cobbled streets of the city centre, you could not think that you had somehow been transformed into Victorian London, with dark lurking shadows in the narrow alleys in the city centre. And could I find a bar open at 11pm – not a chance!

About The EM Stadion
The EM Stadion is completely unrecognisable from just 18 months ago when it was known as the Wals-Siezenheim and home to SV Austria Salzburg. However, with the investment both from the local government and from Red Bull, the stadium is now a much expanded 30,000 seater arena and home to the new Red Bull Salzburg club. In fact it is hard to escape from the Red Bull theme on visiting the stadium for a domestic match, with Red Bull branded everything – including the name which will revert back to the Bullen Arena after the 2008 tournament.

The new look stadium was completed during the summer of 2007 as one of the venues for Euro 2008 and was officially opened with a friendly versus Arsenal in July 2007. The stadium is one of a select few that is using the FIFA-approved artificial Ligaturf. The previous 18,200 seater stadium has had an additional tier added to bring it up to the 30,000 requirements as a tournament host. This was achieved by raising the 1,900-tonne roof by 10metres and slotting in the extra tier.

Views are excellent from any part of the stadium. Whilst the Arena doesn’t have the scenic surroundings of the Tivoli stadium in Innsbruck, it is much more pleasant that some of the stadiums we have in this country. The stadium has some really unique features such as concession stands that serve fans both inside and outside the stadium from the same points, two huge screens and one of the loudest sound systems in Austria. It also has a lighting system that wouldn’t look out of place at a disco. Inside the stadium the concourses are wide and spacious, allowing fans a view of the action whilst they queue. Access to the upper tiers of the stadium is via the staffolding towers dotted around the stadium. Like the stadium in Klagenfurt, only three sides have two tiers, with the main West Stand having a row of Executive seating instead Come June 2008 the whole area will have been completely transformed into a true football festival.

Who plays there?
Up until the end of March 2005 the Wals-Siezenheim stadium was home to SV Casino Salzburg, the three times champions of the Austrian Bundesliga. However, in the sweep of a pen on a contract, over seventy years worth of history were erased when Red Bull bought the club on the 6th April 2005. Along with the name change, the club were “forced” to adopt a new strip and a new management team. The sale of the soul of the club was too much for many of the fans who formed their own club, buying back the original name SV Austria Salzburg and joining the regional leagues of the Salzburg region. In their first season playing in the traditional violet and white strip of the former club they finished top of the league and thus started their long climb back up to the top in a similar fashion to AFC Wimbledon.

SV Casino Salzburg were originally formed under the name Austria Salzburg in September 1933, although they had a pretty undistinguished history until they changed their name to Casino in 1978. Under the new name the team won the Bundesliga in 1994, 1995 and 1997. In 1994 the club also reached the UEFA Cup final, losing 2-0 to Inter Milan on aggregate. In 1994/95 they reached the group stages of the Champions League, finishing third in a group containing Ajax, AC Milan and AEK Athens. They almost appeared in the group stages again in 1997 when they lost to Sparta Prague in the final qualifying rounds. The takeover certainly alienated most of the fan base as Red Bull published the slogan “Salzburg – the club with no history”. They appointed Giovanni Trapattoni and Lothar Matthaus as the management team in May 2006 and in their first season the team won the league with 5 games to spare. With funds available to invest in the team few would bet against them retaining this title in 2007/08.

How to get there
The stadium is located almost at the end of the runway of the airport, and is less than a kilometre from the terminal building alongside the A1 West Autobahn and opposite the Casino. It is around 3km from the city centre. Bus lines 1, 10 and 18 run from the central bus and railway station to the stadium stop in Stadionstrasse on the east side of the ground. Journey time is less than 25 minutes. Close to the stadium is the Europark commercial centre, which includes an Ikea and a massive shopping centre.

For more details of the surrounding area go to Footiemap.com to view their Austrian map.

Getting a ticket
Tickets can be purchased from the Bulls shop at the stadium from 9am to 6pm Monday to Friday or until 2pm on a non-match day Saturday. You can also call +43 662 43 33 32 and arrange to collect and pay for your tickets on a match day. The website http://www.redbulls.com has an online ticketing function which you need to register for to use. The stadium before redevelopment was almost full on most occasions, although the new stands mean that tickets should be available for most games. Ticket prices range from €11 in the terraced area behind the goal to €22 in the East or West stand. All seats offer excellent views of the action on the pitch.

Getting around
The best way to get around Salzburg is by foot. There is a network of buses which run to most places outside the city centre, ticket prices are €4.20 for a day pass. Buses radiate out from the bus station on Südtirolerplatz. The city also has a small S-Bahn network that runs to the outskirts. You can purchase the Salzburg Card for €21 which covers all public transport and access to the main tourist sights and museums in the city. This can be purchased from the Tourist office in Auerspergstrasse 6 (Tel: +43 662 889 870).

Nearest Airport – Salzburg Mozart Airport (SZG)
Telephone: +43 662 8580 7911
Website: http://www.salzburg-airport.com

Salzburg’s Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart airport is the second largest in Austria. As more and more airlines wise up to this fantastic weekend destination, passengers are sure to grow considerably over the next few years. The airport is located just over a mile from the German border, and 2 miles from the city centre. To reach the city catch the number 2 bus that runs every 10 minutes from outside Arrivals and takes 15 minutes and costs €1.80.

Currently the following airlines serve Salzburg on a daily basis from the UK. British Airways from London Gatwick, Flybe from Exeter and Southampton, Ryanair from Liverpool, London Stansted and Nottingham East Midlands, and ThomsonFly from London Gatwick, Bournemouth, Coventry and Doncaster Robin Hood airport.

Nearly bye bye Brian in Nantes

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England score early doorsThree weeks into the Rugby World Cup and England’s campaign was in tatters. They had started with a wimper against USA, been embarrassed by South Africa and now faced a do or die game against Samoa who had started the tournament in a worse situation after being thumped by South Africa and narrowly beaten by Tonga meaning that they too had to win. Pressure had built up on both coaches. Former All Blacks legend Michael Jones and England coach Brian Ashton, especially since senior players including Lawrence Dallaglio and Mike Catt had been very outspoken publically about the training sessions where nobody seemed to have a clue.

Going into this match the script was simple – A win and England had almost guaranteed a knock out phase berth. Defeat and they could almost pack their bags and jump on the nearest Eurostar home. The good news was that England’s most famous rugby son Johnny Wilkinson had been passed fit at last.

The game was being played in Nantes, the jewel in the western Atlantic coast region of France, a city that is more known for its football team and its famous son Jules Verne than rugby. Less than a week after flying into rural France to watch the South African game, traveling to Paris via the wonderful little town of Tours. This time I had manage to pull a new destination out of the budget airline bag – Angers. Nantes had few real options – the small airport there was only really served by Ryanair but unsurprisingly the outbound flights were all snapped up within seconds of this fixture being announced. However, I did manage to get a return flight back to Stansted on the Sunday morning for less than £75 which was a bargain. Other options I looked at included flying to Paris and getting a TGV as well as hiring a car from Calais and driving. I was due to meet up with Ginger Pete and his crew again, who had motored down from Paris in their giant camper van.

The Angers option had come about thanks to the great website Skyscanner (http://www.skyscanner.net) which told me that a Saturday 10am flight was available from Southampton to Angers for just £25 thanks to FlyBE. Southampton Airport is wonderful. Just an hour from Waterloo with its own station and small enough to pass through in just 10 mins it was also free from the “gutter” airlines. An hour delay wasn’t anticipated and would add some pressure to getting there in time to pick up my accreditation but in almost executive jet fashion the journey takes just 35 minutes from take off to landing.

Angers is another one of those tiny airports that has little in the way of facilities. It is also in the middle of nowhere – actually 25 miles from Angers itself, and thus we have to spend longer on the bus than we did in the air to get to the central station. I meet a fellow fan who was forced onto the flight after those lovely chaps at Ryanair had denied him boarding at Bournemouth earlier in the day after he turned up 40 minutes before departure, and with no-one waiting at security and a journey from check in to the gate of less than 1 minute AND the flight not yet boarding. Oh waht nice people.

The way the media accreditation worked in France was that you applied for a game, you were allocated a game and then you had to get there at least an hour before kick off. Otherwise they gave you ticket away. This trip wasn’t going to be an issue at first, but the hour delay, the 50 minute bus trip and then a monstrously slow train journey was adding to my pressure of making it in time. I changed by plans from a beer with Ginger Pete, to a tram and finally to a taxi but when I arrived at Nantes SNCF station I was met with a wall of England fans all trying to get a tram or a taxi to the stadium which was around 5km out of town. I eventually managed to squeeze myself on a tram and joined in the singing. Everyone goes on about the different level of behaviour between Football and Rugby fans. Football fans would sing songs like “Who the F@cking hell are you” whilst those gentlemanly rugby fans would sing songs like “Beastiality is best”- obviously a different class when they sing “shoot your load up a toad boys, shoot your load up a toad”.

The tram couldn’t have taken any longer. With the mid September sunshine beating down on the glass, and movement an impossibility, a couple of the passengers fainted – necessitating the need to stop the tram. With 4 stops still to go I reached the hour deadline. I was now stuck. I could try and haggle for a ticket from a tout, having come all this way but I had plan B up my sleeve- say I had had my pocket picked by the unscrupulous French and beg mercy. It wasn’t necessary. With 30 minutes until kick off I walked into an empty media centre and picked up a ticket, a mixed zone pass and full access to the press conference. I was even given a prime seat with my own desk and TV monitor – nice!

The game started well for England as they powered over the line within 45 seconds to take the lead thanks to captain Martin Corry. The returning saint Wilkinson adds the extras, and within 3 minutes he had added 3 more points from a drop goal to make in 10-0. The next twenty minutes are spent trading penalties as England always look likely to break away but just fail in that final pass. Paul Sackay, the England star of the tournament so far goes over at last to give England a 23-12 lead at the half.

Within ten minutes of the restart Samoa are within 4 points as 2 penalties and a try bring them right back into the game. The scores stay that way for nearly 25 minutes as England nervously hold on, and Samoa nervously fumble and find themselves offside every time they get close to the England line. With their World Cup and tournament hanging by a thread England step up a gear and two late tries by Sackay and Corry put a false gloss on the end result – a 44-22 win is enough to eliminate Samoa and set England up with a winnable game versus Tonga.

The press conference is quite funny. Michael Jones quits,preferring to return to a well paid legal job in Auckland than manage the Samoans. Brian Ashton plays down the fact that England had come within a decent pass of going out and rues some of the referring decisions. Afterwards in themixed zone I get a word with George Chutter who is a friend of a friend and happy to recommend a pub or two for later in the evening.

I headed back into the town and met up with Ginger Pete in a nice backstreet restaurant, listening to stories of their week of trying to live of the land (whilst he was sneaking off to Auchan every day for a bit of french bread and brie). Dinner was excellent and unexpected. Rabbit, prawns and pate had all come locally and were all excellent, as too were the wines. I left the party just before 11pm to try and find my hotel, which appeared to be at the end of tram line 3. Twenty minutes later I was walking down a long road full of warehouse type shops looking for my ETAP hotel. 30 minutes later I still hadn’t found it and had to resort to a phone call back to CMF who was ecstatic to be woken up, go downstairs, turn on the computer and try to talk me through the directions (I had not actually got off at the end of the line but 3 stops from the end at a stop that sounded similar).

So a good day out in the end coupled with a decent dinner had left me in good spirits. The following morning I had a couple of hours to wander the old town which was very impressive and certainly one for the future – perhaps one day when West Ham play here in the UEFA Cup – because that is going to happen!

It was just left for me to get back to Nantes Airport. Of course it was Sunday which meant that no public transport ran so it was left to an expensive taxi to take me on the tour of the bits they don’t want you to see (Prostitutes, derelict buildings and boot fairs – disgraceful!) before I hopped on my flight back home Sunday lunch. It has all been very close for England and Brian, but he was free to fight another day.

About the Stade de la Beaujoire
The Beaujoire was designed in the early 1980’s as a replacement for FC Nantes compact Marcel-Saupin stadium that was located in the same area, and to meet the demand for a new west coast stadium for France’s bid to host the European Football Championships of 1984.  Out went the old steep terraces and basic seating and in came a brand new stadium full of curves and sweeping stands and a significantly increased capacity at over 53,000.

The stadium hosted its first match in May 1984 when FC Nantes played a friendly against the Romanian national team.  Just a few weeks later the stadium welcomed the French national team as they hosted Belgium in a sell out group match of the Championships.  A Platini-inspired performance saw Les Blues beat their neighbours 5-0.  The stadium also hosted Portugal versus Romania, although a 24,000 crowd was disappointing.

Fourteen years later, after a multi-million Franc redevelopment which saw the stadium converted into a 38,000 all seater ground, Le Beaujoire hosted a number of games in the 1998 World Cup Finals, including Brazil versus Morocco, Spain versus Nigeria, USA versus Yugoslavia and the quarter final between Brazil and Denmark.

The stadium is certainly unique in design.  Two huge Tribune stands that sweep upwards in the middle provide a focal point for the stadium, whilst behind the goals the smaller Visage stands are intimate and home to some of the most vocal supporters in France.

Who plays there?
The stadium is home to FC Nantes Atlantique, who up until a few seasons ago were one of the most feared teams in France.  Their eight French Championships make them one of the most successful teams in the domestic leagues – however, the club went from champions in 2001 to bottom of the table in 2007 – one of the most spectacular falls from grace in French football and ending a near 45 year run in the top flight.

The club won their first honours in 1965 when they captured the French league, repeating their feat a year later.  Over the next couple of decades they won four more Championships. Between 1976 and 1981 the club set a record for remaining unbeaten at home for 92 matches.   In 1995 they captured their greatest Championship when they narrowly pipped Paris Saint Germain, Auxerre and Lens to the title, recording 32 games without defeat in the process.  The following season they competed for the first time in the Champions League.  Drawn in an easy group with Panathinaikos, Porto and AaB, they gained a vital point away in Portugal to go through to the quarter finals.  A 4-2 victory against Spartak Moscow took the Canaries through to the semi finals where they met the mighty Juventus.  Facing a 2-0 deficit from Turin, Nantes put on a brave show back at the Beaujoire and nearly turned over the 2-0 lead, falling just short in a 3-2 win.

In 2000 the club were nearly on the receiving end of one of the greatest cup shocks in French history when they narrowly beat the amateurs of Calais in the French Cup Final at Stade de France.
The club had to wait until 2001 for their final championship – the last time a club apart from Lyon has taken the title.  The following season the club again performed well in the Champions League, winning the first round group against PSV Eindhoven, Lazio and Galatasaray.  Unfortunately they could not carry this form into the second stage where draws at home to Manchester United and Boavista were their only points from a tough group.

In 2006/07, hopes were high for at least a UEFA Cup spot.  Unfortunately the team never found any consistency, and by Christmas were close to the relegation zone.  In what was planned to be an inspired move, veteran goalkeeper Fabian Barthez was signed from Marseille.  Unfortunately, things went from bad to worse and their run of form saw them relegated for the first time in over 44 years.

Occasionally, the National team have played here, although the last time they visited was back in 2001 for a friendly versus Denmark.  In September and October 2007 the stadium will host a number of matches in the Rugby World Cup including the match between England and Samoa.  The French team have played a few games here over the years – the most famous game being a French win versus the All Blacks in November 1986.

How to get there
The stadium is located in the north west of the city, adjacent to the E62 main road and around 7km from the city centre.  Around the stadium are some nice wooded picnic areas, and it does feel as if it is in the suburbs with little in the way of bars and cafes in the immediate area.

The easiest way to reach the stadium from the city centre is to catch the tramway number 1 to the end stop which is right outside the stadium.  The journey from the city centre takes no more than 20 minutes.  Bus numbers 1, 22, 71 and 76 also make the journey to the stadium.

Getting a ticket
FC Nantes are one of the best supported teams in France.  With average attendances of close to 30,000, getting a ticket still isn’t a problem for most matches.  Tickets can be purchased from the official website at http://www.fcna.fr. You can also purchase tickets from around the region in the Leclerc stores.  Some of the best seats for the neutrals are in the Credit Mutuel Oceane Bas which is one of the side tribunes where tickets are €25.  Behind the goal in the Presse Ocean Erdre a seat would set you back €15.

Getting around
Public Transport in Nantes consists of tramways and buses.  The tramways date back to 1826, and are used as a model for a number of other cities around the world.  The tram network is today the largest of its kind in France.  Whilst the majority of the attractions are within walking distance, the trams and buses provide a cheap alternative to getting around.

Local Hotels & Bars
Nantes has a number of areas where you will find plenty of hotels.  The area around the central station has a number of the most popular chains such as Mecure and Holiday Inn where rooms are reasonable.  Also, you will find a number of independent hotels on the banks of the river.  Most of them have websites where you can make bookings, although if you need a hand when you arrive then the Tourist Information office at 3 cours Olivier de Clisson – or by telephone at +33 8 92 46 40 44.
The following hotels are good value independent-owned hotels.

Hotel Pommeraye – 2 Rue Boileau
Tel: +33 2 40 48 78 79  http://www.hotel-pommeraye.com
Hotel de France – 24 Rue Crebillon
Tel: +33 2 40 73 57 91  http://www.hotelfrancenantes.com
L’Abbaye de Villeneuve – Les Sorinieres
Tel: +33 2 40 04 04 25  http://www.abbaydevilleneuve.com

Nantes gastronomy is dominated by the sea, and you will find hundreds of excellent bars and restaurants with full menus of fresh fish and seafood.  The following are excellent choices, but can be very busy at the weekend.

Lou Pescadou – 8 Allée Baco (Tel: +33 2 40 35 29 50)
La Cigale – 4 Place Graslin (Tel: +33 2 51 84 94 94)
Villa Mon Reve – Rt Bordes Loires (Tel: +33 2 40 03 55 50)
The main drinking scene is centred on the area called Bouffay.  In this area you will find all different bars including:-

SNUC Brewery – 74 Boulevard des Anglais
Le Bar du Coin – 21 Rue de la Juiverie
Brithotel Amandine – 45 Boulevard des Batignolles

If you want to find a bar for a Guinness or two, and a place to watch some Premiership football then head for one of the following bars:-

John MacByrne – 21 Rue des Petites Ecuries 4
Le Graslin – 1 Rue Racine
Webb Ellis Café Rugby – 6 Rue Santeuil

Nearest Airport – Nantes Atlantique (NTE)
Telephone:  +33 2 40 69 22 22
Website:  http://www.Nantes-aeroport.fr

Nantes Atlantique airport is located around 15 minutes from the city centre.  There is a regular bus that runs to the central station in 20 minutes.  Tickets cost €6 each way.  Alternatively you can catch bus 37 which runs to the La Neustrie tramway on line 2.

The airport’s route map is expanding every year, and currently there are a number of options to reach here from the UK.  This includes Aer Arann from Bristol, Cardiff and Manchester, GB Airways from London Gatwick and Ryanair from Bournemouth, East Midlands and London Stansted.

WHY I HATE PARIS AND SOUTH AFRICA

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I must be the only person in the world who genuinely hates Paris. I know many people who think they hate it but most of these have never actually been there. However, I have….and I hate it. How anyone can call it the “City of Love” or the “Most Romantic City in the World” I will never know. And I think I can talk from experience. On my way into the city by train I counted up on my trusted Ipaq that I have been to the capital of crap on 53 occasions. Now that surely qualifies me to say why I hate it so much….It is not just one thing, its everything – its the aloofness of the Parisians, its the interchanges between lines on the metro (how can a 20 minute walk be classed as the same station??), its the ridiculous metro lines that seem to go to all lengths to avoid running straight, it’s the ridiculous price of the food and drink in the restaurants, it’s the way that the French think that by referring to us as “rostbeouf” that we are offended in any way and its the horrible drain smell that permeates around the city.

So why, you may ask, do I bother coming back. Well for once it’s not football, but Rugby. In fact the last 4 occasions I have been to Paris it has been for Rugby. This time, thanks biggest game of the tournament – versus South Africa at the Stade de France. Of course, being allocated a ticket at the last minute was always going to cause a problem. Firstly the game was being played on a Friday night, secondly it featured an English team, and thirdly it was in one of the world’s most accessible cities – meaning zero per cent chance of getting a last minute flight/train for less than £500 return.

Ah, but this is where the Fuller knowledge of budget airlines comes in…A single search on Ryanair threw up a bargain £45 return to Tours Loire Valley airport, and with some connecting trains I could easily do this trip with as little amount of time as possible in hell (Paris). One of the reasons I love Ryanair, as I have said before, is that is seems to go out of its way to find the smallest airports in the world to fly to…Now I have flown with them to Oostende, Gothenburg City, Verona Brescia, Nimes and Eindhoven – each time vowing that this is the “smallest airport in the world”…..Well, the search is over as Tours wins hands down.

Firstly, it only serves the one Ryanair flight a day – what a job the firemen there must have! Passport control is in a marquee attached to the terminal (in the loosest sense of the word!), The check in counters double up as seats in the cafe when they are closed, and once you pass through the door (security) there are no shops/duty free in the departure gate (sitting room basically). The plane parallel parks against the terminal adding a more informal feel to proceedings. As a simple tick list ensures that all passengers are on the plane.

But anyway, I digress. After landing, I was outside the terminal in a record 53 steps and 37 seconds and in a taxi to the station. Trains run either from Tours Gare in a very pretty square, or from St Pierre des Corps (the French equivalent of a Bristol Parkway) almost every hour. I was in luck as our 55 minute flight had got me in time for a direct TGV (French for bloody fast train) to Paris which would take just 70 minutes to burn over 260km. Whilst I hate Paris, I do like France. I am all in favour of paying top dollar for trains as long as they get you there in comfort and as quick as a retreating French soldier – and so €75 lighter I alighted (what does that would really mean??) at Paris Montparnasse, and got on the Metro at the ridiculously titled Bienvenue Montparnasse! I had to go to the Rugby World Cup Media centre first which meant that thankfully I did not need to change lines.

Another problem with Paris whenever there is a major event on is that the hotels decide to put their prices up 500%. With England in town this was 600%. However, I got a real bargain – £26 for a room in a Campanile hotel in somewhere called Paris Nanterre. A brief bit of research showed me that it was just 2 stops on the RER from Charles de Gaulle Etoile (the Arc du Triumph)…..I’ve stayed in many chains across the globe and always associate them in bands – so a Formula 1, ETAP and a Travelodge would be together, A Travel Inn is a bit more classier and would be up there with a Holiday Inn Express and a Campanile so I knew what I would be getting…So this made it even more of a bargain….

10 minutes later I emerged from Nanterre Prefecture station into a chaotic scene – a local market was busily winding up – and it became obvious that the area around the station was very ethnically focused and my first impressions that a white guy walking through the middle with a laptop bag may be a welcoming new “stall” at the market. But first impressions are sometimes wrong and what I found of Nanterre was a great little place, with a fantastic park that with the sunshine looking and feeling like Central Park in New York, and bordered by the amazing buildings of La Defense.

So a short walk through the park, a quite shower and I was back on the train, on my way to meet ginger Pete. Now for some positives about Paris. The Stade de France was built by some people who understood football. Two fast train lines, and two specific stations were constructed within 5 minutes walk of the stadium, and planning that ensured that trains run every 5 minutes in the build up to the station (on top of a regular metro line just north of the stadium). With so many bars opened before games then fans tend to gather at the stadium to drink from 3 or 4 hours before the game. So that meant that just 32 minutes of leaving Nanterre (think Croydon) I was at the stadium.

The bars are a great idea – all open just for events at the stadium, all serving the same food and drink but charging a ludicrous €8 a beer – captive audience and all that! But this is the only downside to a stadium that is truly one of the best in the world. My seat was in the upper tier, but as you enter the stadium at the middle level, the walk up was not too bad and legroom was generous.

So here I was sitting amongst the world’s top hacks and I realised that most of them had absolutely no interest in the game, and spent the whole game planning on which brothel to go to after the game. It was, in all honesty, marginally more interesting than seeing the English rugby team deliver such a spineless performance that for 30 minutes after the game at the press conference I pretended to be Irish. To fail to score in any rugby match takes some doing – even in the record International defeats, the losing team always scores (All Blacks 101 Italy 3 in 2003, All Blacks 145 Japan 17 in 1999 and so far in this tournament their win versus Portugal by 108 to 13). In this instance what made it even worse is that England did not have one kick at goal – meaning we simply created no chances at all close to the South African line that caused them any concern to indulge in foul play.

For anyone who hasn’t been to the stadium it is hard to describe why it is so good. Every seat offers a great view of the action, and of one of the two huge screens at either end of the stadium. Leg room is generous, concourses are wide and stewards are polite – but I can never remember seeing a team I have supported win there! And today was no exception. It is also very rare in rugby to see a team score zero, but today England managed it. Every time they ventured into the SA half, which wasn’t often they lost the ball, knocked on or ran into touch. On sixty minutes they had their one and only chance to get some points when they were awarded a penalty, but for some reason Corry decided to kick for touch, which they still managed to miss. The game fizzled out for England and the vast majority of the fans, and by 11pm most had headed back to the RER station.

An hour after the humiliation had finished I was back in my cell at the Campanile, although the walk through Central Park didn’t really appeal at midnight so it was the long way round for me in anticipation of my early morning train trip back to Tours.

With a few hours to spare in one of the most historic of French cities on Sunday morning it was a pleasure to kick back and relax. A nice French-style breakfast followed by an early lunch beer was on the cards and a mental note for fingers crossed later in the tournament.

Three weeks later, with England someone finding form thanks to the likes of Paul Sackay and Matthew Tait, they dispatched France in a very partisan Stade de France to reach a second successive World Cup Final, and keep the dream of retaining the Webb Ellis trophy alive. Queue the mad scramble for tickets as well as travel arrangements as the whole of England decided to try and head for Paris.

I applied for a media ticket on the hope of a kind person in Paris, and for good measure also applied to see the 3rd/4th Place game between France and Argentina at the Parc des Princes. Unbelievably the French RWC committee came through for me so I was in possession of a World Cup Final ticket for free…let me re-phrase that – I had a World Cup Final ticket for free! Ginger Pete called excitedly to say he had a ticket and all of a sudden the dream team were back together. I rang Mrs Doubtfire and he grumbled a bit before agreeing to come as well, even though he did not have a ticket.

I managed to secure flights back from Tours on the Sunday lunchtime, and now it was just up to me to find accommodation and a way to get out there. The biggest French hotel chain is Accor and in one of those “Oh my God” moments (similar to when I logged onto the 2006 FIFA World Cup portal and saw a pair of tickets for Brazil v Australia just sitting there saying “pick me, pick me”) I found they had a triple room available for the Friday and Saturday nights for just 120 Euro in total – less than £100! As I was going out on the Friday I decided on the Tours option myself and bagged this for less than £50. The boys however were planning on a Saturday arrival. Again, thanks to the knowledge of Monsieur Fuller in the Budget Airline market I found that a flight to Charleroi in Belgium with Ryanair for £20 one way from where they could get a direct train to Paris in less than 2 hours. So with a Rugby World Cup weekend sorted at less than £100 per head it was a real Game On!

I arrived on the Friday lunchtime, headed for the hotel and prepared myself. Deciding not to take my laptop to the press area at the stadium I boarded the smelliest, crowded inefficient transport system in the world, or at least attempted to.  Of course, the French railways were on strike – oh how predictable.  Major event in the country, and to try and get the attention of the world that they were so hard done by they had gone on strike.  Obviously, fearing the global shame, the Parisian authorities had shipped in a number of English drivers for the trains and so they ran.  I jumped on  one down to the region of Boulogne, home to Loongchamps, the lady boys of the Bois de Boulogne and my old office in Rue Thiers.  Someone on the packed train someone managed to press the call button on the phone, resulting in a dead battery by the time I exited at Pont de St Cloud.  Marvellous…With one of the most complicated days of arrangements to come I had no contactable means.  Absolutley typical.  So arriving at the media centre I tried every means possible to find a pay phone so I could call CMF but there was no such thing.  I had a seat in the back row the of the upper tier, meaning that my view of the action was obscured by the roof coming down but that didn’t stop my next door neighbour launching into a massive rant.  It turned out he was the chief Rugby correspondent for a major British newspaper.  After kindly letting me make a call back home (“call Timbutku if you want the Daily xxxx are picking up the bill”) he went on to tell me about his night out on the previous evening where a group of the “press pack” managed to “do” over a €1000 in four strip clubs and a brothal – “Marvellous” he said “What a job I have when they pay for me to shag my way around Europe in one night”…Nice.  But worse was to come when the national anthems of France and Argentina started.  “If there are two countries I hate more in the world today then I do not know who” and he proceeded to boo and whistle the anthems.

I asked him who he wanted to win – “the referee….what I want to see is a massive fight and both teams have all 15 players sent off”…If we couldn’t have the fairytale ending we could at least have a decent game, and we got one.  Argentina played like men possessed and raced into 17-3 lead at half time with two superb tries.  The game was pretty bad tempered and ten minutes into the second half with another try on the board for Argentina they were reduced to 14 men due to a dangerous tackle.  It mattered little as two more Argentinian tries took the final score to a comprehensive 34-10 victory – and produce one of the shocks of the tournament.

With an uneventful night in the Pantin region of the city (think Hangar Lane and you won’t be too far off the mark) I set out early to Gare du Nord to meet Ginger Pete and Mrs Doubtfire off one of the TGV’s heading down from Brussels.  They seemed regular enough, and with hundreds of ticketless fans on the concourse it was chaos.  Trains came and went yet I was still left standing looking like a jilted fool.  Of course I had no way of knowing what train they were on, and they had no way of tell me where they were.  I had to resort to calling CMF and getting her to act as the intermediatory.  It turned out that the Ryanair flight to Charleroi had actually circled over Brussels for an hour before heading to Gent due to ground fog.  It amazes me that in this modern era when airplanes can fly without any human intervention, they still cannot land due to a bit of cloud.  It also turned out that none of the passengers on said flight diverted to Gent had been told they had been diverted, and only knew when they saw the signs on the top of the airport terminal.  Of course, Ryanair being Ryanair had laid on absolutely nothing for their stranded passengers.  The boys not knowing their Belgium geography very well simply jumped in a taxi and headed for Charleroi.  The hour long cab cost them €130 and deposited them at the station just in time to catch the TGV that had started some 30 minutes earlier…in Gent!

Eventually I met the boys and we headed straight for the bars opposite the station.  Mrs Doubtfire still needed to get a ticket, and the going rate seemed to be €300 minimum in the busy streets outside the station.  The atmosphere was excellent.  With so many non-rugby English fans heading for Paris for the day it had a different feeling to a normal rugby match.  The South Africans were non-existent and soon the party had taken over the whole road.  The bar owner tried to get into the spirit by putting on a plastic policemans helmet and waving a flag of St George whilst jumping up and down on a car – very French.

After a pit stop back in Pantin we headed up to the stadium early doors as Mrs Doubtfire had to try and get a ticket.  I decided not to take my laptop with me.  After all I had not had a proper media desk all tournament and it was the final after all.  So picking up my ticket I was amazed to see 1) That I was issued with a press conference AND a mixed zone ticket, and 2) that my seat was not only a proper media seat with a desk and my own monitor but 2 rows from the front on the half way line.  So not only did I have a plum seat, I also had the likes of Jeremy Guscott and Paul Ackford as my neighbours.  Having left my laptop in the hotel I did what any respecting cub scout would do – I pretended to make notes on my programme!

England started much better than they did in the previous meeting with South Africa a few weeks before.  However with Montgomery and Wilkinson trading penalties quality was not on the agenda.  The one moment of magic came not long into the second half when Mark Cueto was ruled to have put a bootlace in touch, and England’s last hope was dashed.  A tired and aged team that included the likes of Jason Robinson, Mark Regan, Mike Catt and Lawrence Dallaglio all playing their final international matches stayed on the pitch to enjoy the moment – knowing that they had come into the tournament with no expectations of reaching this stage but still realising how close they had come to retaining the cup.

Still with no mobile I had no clue where the boys were, so in the end a game of cat and mouse ended up with us meeting in teh hotel foyer at 3am, tired and unemotional.  Mrs Doubtfire had found a ticket for €250 in the end , but we should never tell Jemma that!  So we headed for Tours on Sunday morning, reflecting on a better than expected tournament and also for the opportunity to catch up on a boys weekend away.  At least it meant that I wouldn’t have to head back to Paris for a few years…..until England’s football team announced a friendly against the French for March 2008 – thanks alot!

The Stadium – Stade de France
Cornillon Nord, La Pleine, Saint Denis

Capacity – 79,959 All Seater
In 1992 FIFA announced that France would host the 1998 World Cup Finals. One of the conditions of awarding them the finals was the provision of a stadium that could hold more than 70,000 fans. With only Marseille’s Stade Velodrome anywhere near this, and the fact that it was almost unheard of for a capital city not to host a World Cup Final (only Washington DC in modern times have not hosted the final after being awarded the competition), work started almost immediately on finding a site to build a state of the art venue. Once a site had been located in the north of the city, and funding put in place, construction started in 1995. What was unique about this project was the amount of resource allocated to the construction which meant that less than two years later, the stadium was ready and being used.

The stadium has a number of unique features such as the roof that appears to float above the stands – it is actually 42metres above the playing surface and gives complete cover from the elements to the 80,000 spectators. The lower tier is built in such as way that 25,000 seats can slide back into the middle tier allowing events such as Speedway and athletics to take place without compromising the views for Football and Rugby. The stadium is one of the best in the world in terms of spectator facilities and the sightlines are excellent.

Paris Saint-Germain were given the opportunity to move there, but decided to stay in the south west of the city. For a few games Red Star Paris played here and actually attracted a crowd of over 45,000 for a league game versus St Etienne in 1999. The stadium also hosts the annual Rugby game between Stade Francais and Toulouse, which is normally sold out.

The stadium not only hosted the famous World Cup Final between France and Brazil in 1998, but has also hosted the majority of the French football and rugby national games since opening. It has also hosted two Champions League finals – firstly in 2000 when Real Madrid beat Valencia, and in 2006 when Barcelona beat Arsenal. It will also host the final of the Rugby World Cup in October 2007. The stadium offers daily tours for €10 including two per day in English at 10.30am and 2.30pm.

How to get to the Stade de France
The stadium is located in the Saint Denis area just north of the inner ring road, and almost adjacent to the A1 motorway that runs up towards Calais. It is very well served by public transport with the authorities deciding to build access points at either end of the stadium – a fact that the planners of Wembley Stadium have overlooked. RER station Stade de France-St Denis is on the Green line that passes through city from Creteil in the south, whilst RER station Le Plaine-Stade de France links Paris CDG airport in the north with Orly airport in the south on the Blue Line B. Both stations are one stop from Gare du Nord and the journey time is about 7 minutes. Metro line 13 also serves the stadium through the stop at St Denis-Porte de Paris.

If you want to travel by bus to the stadium then use lines 139 from Porte de la Villette or 173 from Porte de Clichy. A taxi from the centre of the city will cost around €20.

Tours Loire Valley Airport
Located 5 km north of Tours in the Loire valley of west France. Served on a daily basis by Ryanair from London Stansted. A bus departs 20 minutes after inbound flights for the bus and train station and costs €5 each way. The return bus departs from platform 9 of the bus station 2 hours before the flight. The airport is tiny and has a single bar – there are no other shops or facilities.