It’s generally a quiet time between Christmas and New Year and so Jen and I decided to fly out to Italy for four nights. We’d selected Milan as a suitable spot to stay, partly for the history and culture, but mainly so that I could take in a game at the San Siro. The Milan clubs are moving to a new stadium and so the clock is ticking for visiting the ground before it is demolished.
The whole trip almost didn’t happen as the day before we were due to fly out, KLM cancelled our flights and only offered alternatives that would arrive after the game had taken place. Fortunately, there was a Ryanair flight to nearby Bergamo and so we ended up there instead.
I think we got lucky with the destination change. We stayed in the old town at the top of the hill and were surrounded by historic buildings. There were squares for outdoor eating and plenty of restaurants serving up the Bergamo equivalent of a parmo, casoncelli alla bergamasca. It’s probably just as bad for your heart but tastes great.
When walking around the town, we spotted a sausage dog that was ‘getting the badge in’. I wonder if it goes to the games.
Sunday was match day and as I was now staying in a different place to that originally intended I had to get myself to Milan. The journey started with a half hour walk from the old town to the railway station. Trains went to Milan every hour or so and it cost six euros for the forty minute trip.
I then had two subway rides to get to the San Siro. As you might expect, the carriages were packed, but it all worked as planned and I arrived at the stadium with an hour to spare before kick-off.
I’d already bought my thirty-nine euro ticket online and so I had time for a wander around. Merchandise stalls were well stocked with shirts, flags and scarves. There were multiple food and drink options and I went for for a salamella piccante, which is a kind of burger made partly from salami. It came with peppers, onions and mayonnaise in a good quality bread bun. They should sell them at the Boro.
It was clear that I wasn’t the only tourist. Many of the other people outside had little idea of where they needed to be and were focused on buying half and half scarves and taking selfies with the iconic stadium in the background.
With thirty-five minutes to go I made my way around to entrance twelve. The queue was three or four people wide and forty or so yards long. I momentarily regretted my decision not to take up the fast pass offer that I’d been emailed the day before. For a further five euros I could have joined a shorter queue. However, the line moved quickly. One steward checked my passport against the name on my ticket, whilst another gave me a cursory pat down.
Once inside I made my way up one of the spiral staircases. It took at least ten minutes to reach the top. You might have seen the optical illusion where the staircase appears to revolve, but there weren’t sufficient people on them before the game for it to work. I did look for it on the way out when the staircases were full of departing fans and, yes, they do look as if they are revolving.
My seat was in the first row of the upper tier. It would have been fine except it meant that I had to watch the game through a glass barrier and I’d rather not do that. I was sat next to two small kids and their dad. The boys were likely around four and seven. It’s an age where kids rarely engage much with the game, preferring to play on a tablet or going back and forward to the food kiosks.
These kids not only watched the match but sang for a lot of the time. I hadn’t really had a preference for either team at kick-off, but their enthusiasm was infectious and I was pleased whenever anything on the pitch went the right way for them.
At half-time I went up to the toilet in the corner of the stadium. The building also housed a bar and it was possible to look out onto the pitch from either facility.
A bonus for me was seeing Luka Modric playing for Milan. It’s more than seventeen years since I first encountered him at a Euro 2008 fixture in Austria. He’s forty now but still looks the part and maybe the slower pace of Serie A suits him these days. He was subbed to a standing ovation after seventy minutes. Milan also had a couple of English players in Loftus-Cheek and Tomori. Neither really stood out, but it was nice to think that they got to play alongside the Croatian.
The kids sat next to me cleared off with fifteen minutes to go and I took that as my cue to cut through the corner bar and take a seat behind the goal for a different view. The Milan singing section was on the tier below me and they were making plenty of noise. It was understandable as by that stage they were three-nil to the good.
There were no more goals and at full-time I retraced my steps down the spiral walkway and back to the subway station for the journey back to Bergamo. They’ve a Serie A team of their own, so I might very well be back for another visit before long.
Trail of the Lion King 