It’s my job these days to sort out the tickets when Paul and I head off for a tournament and, despite hours spent in online ticket queues, it didn’t go well. We only got tickets for one game at the Euros and so when writing about it there’s a lot to cram into a single post. This might just be my longest write-up ever. Or maybe it will just feel like it.
Of course, it’s not helped by my tendency to mention what I got up to the afternoon before, which on this occasion, was watching The Wedding Present at the Georgian. They’d put on a matinee show to avoid clashing with the England game and that suited me fine, especially since they played both Brassneck and Kennedy, the only two of their songs that I whinge about not hearing.
Next day Paul and I flew into Cologne. Paul’s job was to take care of the flights and hotels and without going into detail, he’d absolutely nailed it on both counts. Well done, mate. After a quick cab ride into the city centre, we dumped our bags and headed off to the fan park to watch the Belgium v Slovakia game on a big screen.
Cologne was full of Scots who were in town for their game with Switzerland two days later and a lot of them had pitched up at the fan park. We had a few Bitburger beers, which were nothing special, and watched Belgium curse the advent of VAR when they had two Lukaku goals disallowed for infringements that they would likely have got away with in the past.
We left the fan park to watch the final game of the day in a nearby Italian restaurant. Clearly, they hadn’t anticipated that Cologne would be full of people looking to eat and drink. Or perhaps they had but simply weren’t able to put extra staff on. We solved the staffing issue by ordering a bottle of different coloured wine each in the knowledge that once they had arrived it would no longer matter too much how long the food would take to be served.
The memorable moment from that Austria v France game was Mbappe’s broken nose and I called him out for timewasting until I saw the blood. The evening finished with brandy and cigars on the terrace. All in all, a very good start to the trip.
Day two started with breakfast in a café by the Rhine and then some wandering around to see what Cologne had to offer. There were some buildings that looked older than the nineteen-forties, notably the cathedral. That was quite surprising really considering the extensive WW2 bombing raids that, on one particular night, had involved more than a thousand aircraft.
Once again, it was the Scots fans that stood out. I think it’s great that they’ve qualified for a tournament. I remember back in the seventies when for two World Cups they were the only British representatives and it’s a pity that they had so long without the chance to follow their team abroad.
As we passed the cathedral, there were a few of them playing bagpipes. Be grateful that I don’t add videos with sound to these posts.
There had been some storm warnings which were severe enough for the fan park to be closed for the day. However, the rain held off until five o’clock which meant that we then had to dodge the downpour to get from our hotel to the pub that we’d identified earlier as being the place to watch the six o’clock game featuring Turkey and Georgia.
This was one of the fixtures that I’d tried to get tickets for, but when we saw the torrential rain inside the stadium at Dortmund, I was glad that we were sat inside a bar eating pork knuckle with mash and sauerkraut, washed down with ongoing servings of the local Kolsch beer. When you’ve drained your 200ml glass, the barman just appears with a fresh one and then marks a beer mat to keep a running total. Perfect.
The game was decent too, with a couple of cracking goals from Turkey and then, at two-one and with the Georgian keeper up in the Turkey box in added time, a quick break allowed the Turks to knock the ball into the empty Georgian net and seal the win.
For the nine o’clock game we sought a change of scenery and headed a hundred yards or so up the road to an area with a few bars that had tables outside. It was still raining but we found somewhere with large umbrellas and settled in for Portugal’s game against Czechia. I must have missed their change of name from when they were the Czech Republic. Perhaps they’ve installed a monarchy when I wasn’t looking.
Ronaldo’s presence overshadowed everything else that was going on in the game, or at least in the eyes of the tv director. He doesn’t really contribute much these days though. Czechia took the lead with a goal that was celebrated first in our bar and then again, ten seconds later, in the bar opposite with the delayed feed.
There was more rain, but we were safely under cover and with our now customary order of a bottle of wine each, we didn’t have to worry about any drop off in service. Portugal equalised from an own goal and then had what looked like the winner disallowed for Ronaldo being a fraction offside. They nicked the points anyway in added time.
On the morning of day three we took a train from Cologne to Gelsenkirchen. It should have taken an hour but instead took two and a half. We overheard lots of complaints from those around us about the German rail service. It seemed cheaper than the UK, particularly as we bought our tickets shortly before travel, but just about every train listed on the boards appeared to be running late.
The delay wasn’t a big deal to us and worked in our favour for checking into the hotel. After dumping our bags, we had a wander around Gelsenkirchen. There was a largely empty fan zone without screens and a bar close by with no free seats. We eventually found somewhere to watch Croatia take on Albania. The game had a Boro connection with Carling Cup winner Doriva on the bench as an assistant coach for Albania.
Modric was looking old, although he might say the same about us. Paul mentioned that we’d watched him play back in the 2008 tournament, but whilst I remember being at that game in Vienna where Turkey were kitted out in Boro strips, I’ve no recollection of what Modric got up to. Nevertheless, playing in Euros sixteen years apart is impressive.
Albania went a goal up whilst we were watching, but after we’d moved on Croatia scored twice before Albania nicked a draw. Well done, Dave Doriva.
We’d dipped out early from the Croatia game to give ourselves plenty of time to reach the amphitheatre alongside the main Gelsenkirchen fan park. We got there easily enough via a shuttle from the station and then followed the signs for what seemed like a very indirect route to the amphitheatre. It’s supposedly a six-thousand-seater outdoor area and apparently Scorpions have played there. That last bit of info may not be too unusual in Germany.
We were there to watch the host nation take on Hungary in the six o’clock game and got there early enough for a spot with a decent view. The efficient bar service meant that we kept ourselves topped up with beer and I had a foot long sausage in a tiny bun. That’s the right ratio in my book. Germany weren’t overly impressive but they managed the win that qualified them for the knock-out stage with a game to spare.
The amphitheatre emptied quickly after the Germany win, but we as we had somewhere to sit and there was still a bar open, we hung around to watch the first half of Scotland’s game with Switzerland. There were probably another couple of hundred or so people that did the same.
At half-time we made the short walk to the fans park proper. It’s on the site of an old colliery and it was good to see that in a nod to their heritage, some of the mining equipment remained in place. We had fish and chips from a bus, albeit without the option of vinegar, and watched Scotland achieve the draw that kept their tournament alive. By the time the game was over it was no trouble finding seats on the shuttle ride back to the station.
Day four was matchday and as I had some schoolwork to do, we didn’t head out until lunchtime. We had lunch at an outdoor table of an Italian restaurant and watched the Italian and Spanish fans wandering about town.
As the afternoon wore on, we took a taxi in the direction of the Veltins Arena, stopping off on the way at the social club for fans of Schalke 04. I’m not sure it was the venue that we’d intended but it had beer, food and televisions showing the Slovenia v Serbia game.
The Schalke social club operated the same system that we’d encountered in the Cologne bar two days earlier, where the beers just kept appearing and a mark was made for each one on a beermat. Maybe nobody shreds the beermats in Germany. I had currywurst for my tea for no better reason than I hadn’t eaten it already on the trip and we settled in to watch ex-Boro loanee Andraz Sporar turn out for Slovenia against Serbia.
A last gasp Serbian goal left the group wide open, and we stayed on to watch England take on Denmark. As was the case all over Germany, there were lots of Scots watching and they celebrated the Danish equaliser as if it were their own team.
The England performance was poor, but four points from the opening two games left qualification in our own hands as we left to catch a tram to the stadium.
The tram initially made good progress but then, with the stadium already having been sighted, we were held at a stop for longer than seemed necessary. When the doors opened, we took the decision to get off, despite it being one stop earlier than we could have done. I’d much rather be moving, even if it is under my own steam.
We were delayed a while by Paul’s ticket not being active, but it was soon resolved once we got a phone signal, and we made it through the first stage of security and then into the ground.
Our seats were behind the goal and handy for one of the bars. Whilst regular beer was on sale at the other tournament stadiums, the beer at the Veltins Arena was limited to 2.8%. I can live with that. It’s better than the zero percent Bud that we drank in Qatar and the non-alcoholic beer that used to be the norm at the Euros in the past.
The view wasn’t as good as it could have been with afew of the people in front of us standing and blocking the view. We could see well enough though to recognise that Spain were by far the dominant side and I doubted that Italy would be in Germany for too long.
We’d heard the tales of woe from the previous game at the stadium with England fans having to wait three hours for a tram and with that in mind we legged it ten minutes from time. The tactic worked and we were soon on board and back at the main station almost before game had finished.
And so that was it. Another very enjoyable tournament despite only seeing the one game live. Next up is the World Cup in 2026 where I’ll be looking to add Mexico and Canada to my list of countries where I’ve seen a game.
Trail of the Lion King 