The journey back to the West

We arrived into Warsaw for the second time on our travels slightly worse for ware, given the dent we made into the Vodka the previous night. Both Hutch and I were slow moving onto the hostel, arriving in an unfamiliar station, we managed to get across Warsaw to Centrally Station, before walking to our Hostel. Check in wasn't for a couple of hours, but Hutch was struggling and my stomach was grumbling. It wasn't hunger, as I soon found out a few minutes later; a well timed dash to bathroom saving me. The cheap street food bought of the ladies at the station not productive for my bowel. Hutch didn't eat much, but still suffered.

This was our last day at any of the Euro 2012 venues, and we didn't have tickets. We had previously both agreed to try and get tickets through the black market for this game.

I was more positive about our day, trying to drag Hutch up and out, given he had been sleeping during the day. Food was probably the solution, so feasted like kings with a couple of cold meat starters, we had a four person mixed grill between us, soothed down with Polish grog!

After the food, both of us were more spritely, we cruised towards the stadium, discussing our price for the tickets. Both agreed: Not much above face value.

We left the stadium station, greated by a few touts, our conversations and haggling were not getting us to our desired price. Sod it. I'd done this touting stuff a few times. We still had hours before kick off; we'll play the number game. We walked towards the ground, again meeting the occasional tout. We started talking to one, and got fairly good price. It wasn't the ideal price, but lady luck was on our side. A chap approached us "I have two tickets, face value,". Hutch and I looked at each other. It was the best deal yet... we chatted with the guy a bit further "We got more tickets than needed, we just want to recouperate the money we paid!", Hutch and I decided to trust our new friend, and ambled to the nearest cash machine (which wasn't near, it took nearly half an hour to get to the nearest one...) to pay our debt. Once the cash was handed over, Dominic, a German, invited us to join his friends for a beer, afterall, we would be sat next to them for the game.

We settled down in the shadow of the stadium to some Tyskie, talking of the sterotypes we had of the German's and vice versa, talking about the tournament, the chances of the remaining teams and swapping slang terms (they knew all our swear words) that are used in our languages.

The game approached as the beers were drained, our German friends bought us the last beer. This is what the tournament was about, meeting new people, we'd helped them recover their ticket, we had tickets with a beer thrown in for the price.

We walked off to the Stadium, all slightly tipsy, getting a portugese guy to take a photo of our newly formed group, admiring the stadium, then entering into the stunning arena. A gorgeous stadium, with uniquely designed roof and lovely structure for stands of the stadium.

The game started brightly, the Czech's probing forward dangerously. Gebre Selassie was a menace down the right, pushing hard from the full back position, a solid performance from this unknown from the Czech Gambrinus Liga. Alas, The Portuguese then jumped into life, a certain Cristiano Ronaldo providing the sparks, Joao Moutinho interrupting the Czech and feeding the three pronged attack. Ronaldo twice panged the post; once after swivelling and swerving through the Czech defence and crashing a fierce shot upon, then with a trademark zinging freekick, leaving Cech stranded, saved only by the woodwork. The game was sealed with 11 minutes.  Nani fed Joao Moutinho, who crossed deep back across goal. Ronaldo sprinted towards the ball from a deep position before powering the ball past Cech, the first time he'd done so since the Champions League Final in Moscow in 2008.

We stayed and took the statutory photo's of this gorgeous stadium, before heading back into town. We contemplated going out, but I was still feeling rough, Hutch not much better, so we went for a couple of beers in the district near our Hostel. We had an early start the following day.

We awoke from our 8 hour restful slumber and departed for the station. We were leaving the Euro 2012 zone for the first time in two weeks, but alas, we were heading to Berlin, on the day that Germany were due to play Greece, a lucky addition to our trip.

Our train was uneventful to Berlin, a distinct lack of football fans on the train. We arrived into Berlin Haupbahnhof mid afternoon. We checked into our hostel in the hip Prenzlauer Berg of Berlin, then headed for the Brandenberg gate. Apart from it being a historic monument, it was also the place for the vast Fan Zone that was set up by the German authorities to give the fans at home a chance to support their national hero's. I'm not sure anything is done like this in England, probably because a mass brawl would ensue...


In the fan zone a great beer was found, Duckmeister, and after we consumed a couple, the game was under way. I didn't envisage the Greeks putting up much of a fight, but they kept the Germans out, including a rightly disallowed goal, until the 39th minute. Captain Philip Lahm pulled through and drilled the ball past the hapless Greek keeper.

Somehow ten minutes after half time the Greeks got an equaliser. Samaras bundled the ball over the line. But this was short lived. On 61 minutes, Khedira put the German's into a lead. Klose soon added another; the Samaras goal seemed to have sparked the German machine into life. New Dortmund signing Marco Reus added a 4th, meaning the Germans had got 3 in 15 lightening minutes. The Greeks got a late consolation goal through a penalty, but the German's were through.

We shuffled away from the Brandenberg, before going to party. Our destination the iconic electronic techno club, Tresor. We had a couple of beers, before heading into the club, dancing to some grimy industrial techno till the early hours. We departed in daylight, swaying back to the hostel before hitting the final stop of the tour; Amsterdam!

Our early train to Amsterdam was supplemented with some slumber. The previous two hours insignificant to our body's need. We had a quick change en route to ensure our arrival in Amsterdam Centraal, and not Amsterdam Suid. I know my way around Amsterdam and had previously stayed at our abode for the night. However, Hutch was peckish. I knew a noodle place, so we hit that, before getting stung in a typically Western style for 26 euro's...

Our last night was to be christened with the last supper. I had always wanted to go to a smart restaurant in Nieuwmarkt, In De Waag, where Rembrant's The Anatomy Lesson was painted. After a gorgeous tenderloin steak, we headed over for Amsterdam's best milkshake at the smart Hill Street Blue's coffeeshop. The Spain France again had already started whilst we were eating dinner. Former Liverpool midfielder Xabi Alonso put them 1-0 up with a firm header. The drab game went on and on, before France's hopes of reaching the semi's went up in smoke, like our surroundings in the coffeeshop. A penalty awarded, which Alonso despatched to secure Spain a semi final clash with the Iberian peninsula Portuguese.

We reviewed, joked and laughed about the previous 24 days. Our adventure drawing to a close; this was the final night.We went out and Amsterdam was not hustling like normal. Superclub Melkweg, Dead. Paradiso, minimal. We cruised a few late bars, before deciding to call it a day at 4:00am.

We arose the next morning, the weather for the third time in 24 days, was producing rain. We checked out. I headed off to find an internet cafe in the pouring rain to print our boarding cards, then we departed, for the last time, to the airport.

The mood between us was sombre, slighly depressed. This was the end of our adventure. 24 days on the road. We didn't feel the irony or coincidence of the rain as we tried, and failed, to find food in Einhoven, our departure airport.

The tube of the Ryanair Boeing 737 opened into sunshine some where over the North Sea. A silver lining perhaps to the end of the journey. More like a mercury poising lining...

I dropped my bags in Nottingham, and trudged up the road to the pub. The roads eerily empty, like a scene out of 28 Days Later, England that night were atypical of the national team. A bore draw, lacking invention. The attacking substitution of Jordan Henderson being laughed at by the other people supporting other teams throughout the tournament. 0-0, the first of Euro 2012. Then Penalties. The faint optimism in the pub... "Maybe this time", "I can see us doing this", "Joe Hart to save, then score the winner". I wasn't fussed. But I couldn't see England changing the habit of a lifetime. Nine kicks later, I was right. England were down and out. Just like Hutch and I. Tournament Over.

Russian Invasion of Warsaw

It's been a while since the last update, and there are a number of reasons why. The most important being that we hit the Ukraine, where I don't get any data allowance and it would cost me a fortune to update. I've also had technical difficulties with my phone, which is where I've been blogging from, and the third is that we've been out and about far too much to be spending time blogging. However, I am aware of demand, mainly from parents, to get more information out.


So Warsaw! We arrived in good time from Gdansk; our main priority was linking from Kiev back to Warsaw later in the trip, but getting details of this journey, and booking it, had proved difficult. I mean, it's not like the two countries are hosting a major international tournament... oh wait. There was also the difficult Warsaw to L'viv leg that needed booking, and again, details were sketchy! The plan was to get as close to the Ukrainian border as possible; this was to be a town called Przemysl, then hopefully get an onwards bus or train. We ordered our tickets, but as we'd find out later, it wasn't too straight forward. The Kiev to Warsaw was apparently fully booked. If this is the case, we were are in a slight pickle, as once in Kiev, it is a race against time, with enough time to have a party in each city, to reach our flights home from Holland!


We dropped our bags of at the Hostel, had a quick shower, and headed out, in preparation for the England France game. With England taking a decent point from the France game, I was amazed at how poor Steven Gerrard really is. Although he assisted, he was poor afterwards and showed little of his club form. One thing to note on this: There are a lot of video's covering all the players at Euro 2012. The only player to appear in his club colours? Steven Gerrard, with his screamer against West Ham in the FA cup and some other good goals for the red half of Merseyside. If you think why this might be, it's because he's never done anything in an England shirt that warrants being put on the highlight reel.


The game that followed was the Ukraine vs Sweden game, the first game for the co-hosts. If you could write the script for this game, it would probably look like this: Sweden go one up, then the Ukrainian talisman, Andrei Shevchenko would bag a brace to seal a win, then be taken off with a few minutes left to a large standing ovation. Oh, wait...


It was a Monday night in Warsaw and we stumbled across a couple of nice bars, in anticipation of a quietish night. I'd disappeared to the toilet for a couple of minutes, only to come back to Hutch being chatted up by some Polish bloke. He had worked in Ireland for 3 years and the thick Irish/Polish accent was quite funny, however Cordan was our tour guide for the night and led us on a merry dance through some of Warsaw's finer night spots!


The next day in Warsaw started to resemble something from the 1940's... there was a Russian invasion as Warsaw prepared for Poland vs Russia. We ambled through the old town (probably the biggest and most beautiful so far!) through out the day, seeing the number of Russian paraphernalia of flags, shirt and painted faces rise dramatically. As kick of approached, we headed back to the Fan Zone in the centre. Firstly to see the Czech Republic Greece game, but to get a good spot for the biggest derby of the tournament so far: Russia Vs Poland!


After watching the Czech Republic resemble a football team following their 4-1 thrashing by Russia; they beat the weak Greeks in a comfortable 2-1 win, we were suddenly feeling rather compact in the fan zone. About half an hour before kick off, it kicked off. Although I couldn't understand a word, the 100,000+ fans were getting all fired up with national songs and constant pangs of 'Polska!'. The atmosphere was excellent in the build up and was strong in the start of the game. Poland scored a disallowed goal and the place errupted. Flares were lit, people were dancing; then the realisation of the assistants flag.


Russia then took the lead, the excellent Dzagoev turning in Andrey Arshavin's cross. The mood was very sombre in the fan zone. A bunch of maybe 200 russian fans were getting some steely looks from large swaths of the Polish fans.


Half time came and went, and frustration was boiling. Then a stroke of genius, Jakob Blaszczykowski, cut in from the right and riffled a shot past the flailing Malafeev. This time the goal stood and the Polish in the fan zone were going nuts. Flares again, passionate songs for 'Polska' arising.

With the final whistle, optimism rung loud from the crowds tone! The Polish were jubilant with a draw against the more illustious, former occupants Russia.


We trudged to the train station to start an undefined journey to L'viv. We found out platform and got our tickets at the ready. Half an hour to go. Wait... the dates are wrong. A frantic rush followed. Our tickets could be used, but we couldn't get a seat for the unknown journey length... and half of Poland was going to Krakow it seemed. A mad panic ensued and we threw ourselves in a carriage. After a couple of moments we were moved around a bit. Once settled we made friends with a large portion of Poland, picking up a beer in the process from a friendly chap called Peter, then unfortunately Hutch was firmly booted from the carriage. The five hour journey was probably the worst so far. Everytime we pulled into a station, the fans  tumbled onto the platform, setting off fireworks in the process. Hutch found a spot in the corridor, and found some tramp around him after he snoozed for a bit. I left my seat for the toilet, only to find someone spread out across it. I decided to watch the world flow by as it was getting light, but fell asleep vertically with the window of the train as my pillow.


Eventually we hit Krakow, but had a mad dash across platforms to get the train to Przemysl. This journey was uneventful and we were able to catch up on some much needed sleep. We awoke near Przemysl and upon jumping off, had a special train that would take us into the Ukraine...

Euro 2012 : The pipe dream

Occasionally in life, something crops up and you just can't drop it. No matter how crazy it seems, awkward to organise or marginally expensive it feels. This is just an introduction to the start of many a blog entries in what I hope will be a great story over the next month. A friend, Stuart Hutchings, and I covering one of the biggest football tournaments in the World, mixed with a mad trip across the eastern red and iron clad part of the continent Europe. This is a blog about Mosski and Hutch going to Euro 2012.


In February, a colleague told Hutch he might have a couple of tickets for a European Championships game; England vs Ukraine, in Donets'k. This is about as far east as you can get on mainland Europe to Russia, the last stop before you will need a visa to enter the Motherland.


This immediately got my travel juices going. I never look at a direct journey, I look for the awkward, crazy and different approach. I knew that prices to fly directly into Donets'k when England were playing would be ridiculous. An alternative was required to get to this far flung corner of mainland Europe.


One of my good friends has a 7-seater Space Wagon, and he also likes an adventure. I proposed the idea of driving through Europe, dangling the carrot of reward; the finish of his thesis for his doctorate soon appearing over the horizon, just before the start of the Euro's. He was in. So were quite a few others. We could fill the car comfortably.


Then he was out. We were entering April. He wasn't going to get his thesis finished in time. May was a busy month for him, it just wasn't going to happen. We couldn't take the car without him. But the prospect of travelling across Europe was still in the back of my mind, as was it in Hutch's. This had to happen.


Over the next few weeks, the two of us collaborated and figured out different crazy routes. This wasn't just going to be about football, but an adventure, checking in a number of countries, sights, sounds, history, cultures. And football. We had ideas, we spent endless nights looking at routes, trying to get in as many games as possible, even if we didn't have tickets, the atmosphere, the adventure...


Moral was down, we just couldn't make the planned route overland to and from Donets'k to cover enough games in enough time. We'd spent hours one night looking at different options. Just wasn't feasible, too much was giving, not able to get to certain cities in time for games. UEFA, the games are horrible to traverse!


I sat back in my chair once Hutch had gone, it was past midnight. Why don't we reverse the route? Go though Poland first, then end up in Ukraine? Do we need to go to Donets'k, the potential ticket was gone. Donets'k was the problem, it was too far east. Will it work? Drag. Drop. Copy. Paste. Logical. Sense? That makes sense... bit tight in places, but possible. The route was bloody possible.


The next few weeks entailed a review of all the possibilities and combination of the routes; can we do this, and that, or the other... do we have enough time in x, will the overnight train leave late enough to allow time for the game? Most of it fitted. I even started to understand, because of the booking systems , lightly, the Cyrillic alphabet (thank god for Chrome and it's auto translate!)... apart from when I pressed cancel after a long booking process to find train times from L'viv to Kiev to find the times!


This was on. Euro 2012!


Below is the proposed high level itinerary* of the jaunt. If you have any advice on any of the places we are going, how to travel best between them, or any other general advice, then please comment.

*this is still subject to change

Date	Match	Country	City	Transit	Sleep
Fri-01-Jun		Croatia	Pag	Fly to Zadar	Pag
Sat-02-Jun		Croatia	Pag	Bus to Split	Split
Sun-03-Jun		Croatia	Split	Bus to Sarajevo	Sarajevo
Mon-04-Jun		Bosnia	Sarajevo	Bus to Belgrade	Belgrade
Tue-05-Jun		Serbia	Belgrade		Train
Wed-06-Jun		Hungary	Budapest	Train to Budapest	Budapest
Thu-07-Jun		Slovakia	Bratislava	Train to Bratislava	Bratislava
Fri-08-Jun	Russia v Czech	Poland	Wroclaw	Train to Wroclaw	Wroclaw
Sat-09-Jun		Poland	Wroclaw	Train to Gdansk	Train
Sun-10-Jun	Spain v Italy	Poland	Gdansk		Gdansk
Mon-11-Jun		Poland	Warsaw	Train to Warsaw	Warsaw
Tue-12-Jun	Poland v Russia	Poland	Warsaw	Train to Lviv	Train
Wed-13-Jun	Denmark v Portugal	Ukraine	Lviv		Lviv
Thu-14-Jun		Ukraine	Lviv	Train to Kiev	Train
Fri-15-Jun	Sweden v England	Ukraine	Kiev		Kiev
Sat-16-Jun		Ukraine	Chernobyl	Train to L'viv	Train
Sun-17-Jun	Denmark v Germany	Ukraine	L'viv		L'viv
Mon-18-Jun		Ukraine	Kiev	Train to Kiev	Train
Tue-19-Jun	Sweden v France	Ukraine	Kiev		Kiev
Wed-20-Jun		Ukraine	Kiev	Train to Warsaw	Train
Thu-21-Jun	Quarter Final	Poland	Warsaw		Warsaw
Fri-22-Jun		Germany	Berlin	Train to Berlin	Berlin
Sat-23-Jun		Holland	Amsterdam	Train to Amsterdam	Amsterdam
Sun-24-Jun		UK	Eindhoven	Fly to Stansted	Home