Adios Espana
I have just woken up and about to set off back to France. I have about an 9 hour drive to get to my next destination, an AirBnB in Nice. I want to get there at least by midday on Monday so I can settle in, do a bit of exploring and watch the Italy v Spain game before the next big match for me.
The plan is to drive all morning and the early part of the afternoon and then stop in a town or city to watch the first game today, France v Ireland. Depending on whether the match goes to extra time/penalties, I'll either dive a bit longer until the next match or stay.
After the Hungary v Belgium game, I'll drive until I'm too tired and then sleep in the car, wake up early and continue.
For the record, like most I'm predicting France, Germany and Belgium to reach the quarter finals, but I think they'll all be close games.
No time, Toulouse
From San Sebastian I drove smoothly across the border (terrible these borderless countries) and didn't need to change currencies - another thing those bullying EU people did with the UK, oh hold on... no they didn't, did they?
As I approached Toulouse I got into a bit of panic as few bars on the periphery seemed to be open. So I had to bite the bullet and head for the city center. As I got there I suddenly realised that there were thousands of fans there Hungary v Belgium was going to played later in the evening. Oops. That meant that any bar I did find would probably be full.
As I approached Toulouse I got into a bit of panic as few bars on the periphery seemed to be open. So I had to bite the bullet and head for the city center. As I got there I suddenly realised that there were thousands of fans there Hungary v Belgium was going to played later in the evening. Oops. That meant that any bar I did find would probably be full.
France 2 Ireland 1
Anyway in Toulouse I managed to find an Irish pub, which was appropriate as it was France v Ireland first up.
The bar was literally packed like sardines and the best I could do is stand in the doorway and look over everyone's heads at the TV screen in the corner. I was a bit late so I'd already missed Ireland's sensational 90 second goal. A penalty for a definite foul. So there was a definite tension and France struggled and Ireland seemed to be dominating.
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| Me at the doorway. Packed like sardines inside |
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| Johnny Giles, famous Irish former international and now pundit on Irish TV in the Irish Pub |
At half time, scores of people, sweating and gasping for fresh air, came streaming out onto the street. Here was my opportunity to go in and get a beer and a good spot to watch the second half.
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| No time Toulouse |
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| Belgian leader |
Two goals followed in quick succession and the French in the pub erupted and sang the marseiilaise. I had a nice chat to some Belgian fans one of which was the head of the Belgian supporters club - or so he told me. He said his group had all decided that no-one should wear any club shirts and only Belgium - as they were worried that there might be trouble between fans.
Anyway, unlucky Ireland fought hard, but they're out and France go on to the quarter finals.
Carcassonne
Straight after the match finished I marched back to my car and drove at the maximum speed towards Montpellier. I knew I wouldn't be able to get there in time for the next match, Germany v Slovakia, which was due to start in just an hour's time, so I decided to stop at Carcassonne, an old magical walled city.
I had intended to stay there just for the Germany game and move on but I was so enchanted with the old town I decided to stay for the final match of the day, Belgium v Hungary too.
As I arrived in the town, the clock had already ticked over past 6 pm and so my plan was to find the nearest bar with a tely. I parked in a promising looking street and found a brasserie. I went through to the back where there were a group of happy looking people drinking. Even better, there was a big screen on which I saw that Germany had just scored their first of three goals.
Apparently these people were celebrating the christening of a child. Bizarrely, as I arrived three policemen also came in. Apparently one of the neighbours had complained about the noise!
They were a very friendly crowd and, as I was hungry, they advised me to go to a nearby restaurant, rather than one in the walled old town (which at this point I was totally ignorant of) so, at half time I left them and found the restaurant which, unfortunately, was closed.
So, I thought I'd try to find this old town they'd told me about. I parked the car near an old bridge and started walking towards a very impressive looking walled town on top of a hill. I passed by a small pizzeria and, seeing that the match had restarted, decided to just grab a pizza and watch the second half from there.
As the match continued an old local man came in and bored the pants off the poor owner for half an hour. I could hardly understand a word of what he was saying but, judging by the monotonous tone of his voice, the lack of response from the owner, and a shared glance with him, with raised eyebrows and resigned look, I knew all to well the essentials of what was going on.
Anyway, after my delicious pizza, I walked up the hill and into the walled old town. Wow! How amazing it is. The views from the top of the wall are awesome and the town itself is enchanting. Many TripAdvisor reviews criticise it for being too touristy but, honestly, what's wrong with that? It's a lovely place and I'd advise anyone to go there.
After a 45 minute explore of the old town, I found a nice restaurant in a square with a big screen outside where I watched the Belgium v Hungary game. I knew I was going to be driving afterwards so I just had one beer and plenty of water.
"Ria!, Ria!... Hungaria!"
Sitting in the dark on the top of that hill in just a T shirt, it had got very cold. So much so that I actually had to leave before the end, with the score at 3-0, to get back to the car to warm up.
And so, as midnight approached, I headed further east heading towards Montpellier. As soon as I got a little sleepy I stopped the car at a quiet rest area, flipped the seat back, put on a few layers and my rain coat, and went to sleep.
So ended Sunday night. Another great day!
Aljice
I had intended to stay there just for the Germany game and move on but I was so enchanted with the old town I decided to stay for the final match of the day, Belgium v Hungary too.
As I arrived in the town, the clock had already ticked over past 6 pm and so my plan was to find the nearest bar with a tely. I parked in a promising looking street and found a brasserie. I went through to the back where there were a group of happy looking people drinking. Even better, there was a big screen on which I saw that Germany had just scored their first of three goals.
Apparently these people were celebrating the christening of a child. Bizarrely, as I arrived three policemen also came in. Apparently one of the neighbours had complained about the noise!
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| "Louique"? was a very friendly chap. |
They were a very friendly crowd and, as I was hungry, they advised me to go to a nearby restaurant, rather than one in the walled old town (which at this point I was totally ignorant of) so, at half time I left them and found the restaurant which, unfortunately, was closed.
So, I thought I'd try to find this old town they'd told me about. I parked the car near an old bridge and started walking towards a very impressive looking walled town on top of a hill. I passed by a small pizzeria and, seeing that the match had restarted, decided to just grab a pizza and watch the second half from there.
As the match continued an old local man came in and bored the pants off the poor owner for half an hour. I could hardly understand a word of what he was saying but, judging by the monotonous tone of his voice, the lack of response from the owner, and a shared glance with him, with raised eyebrows and resigned look, I knew all to well the essentials of what was going on.
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| Le Bar a Vivres does a very nice Pizza |
Germany 3 Slovakia 0
I am afraid I have little memory of the game, other than Germany (yawn) won easily and played pretty passing football. The youngster, Julian Draxler was particularly impressive. That's all we need. Another brilliant German footbller on the horizon.
Anyway, after my delicious pizza, I walked up the hill and into the walled old town. Wow! How amazing it is. The views from the top of the wall are awesome and the town itself is enchanting. Many TripAdvisor reviews criticise it for being too touristy but, honestly, what's wrong with that? It's a lovely place and I'd advise anyone to go there.
After a 45 minute explore of the old town, I found a nice restaurant in a square with a big screen outside where I watched the Belgium v Hungary game. I knew I was going to be driving afterwards so I just had one beer and plenty of water.
Belgium 4 Hungary 0
This was a powerful display from the Belgians who looked like they were finally beginning to click as a team. I was a bit sad to see Hungary disposed of so easily as I'd seen them twice and had got on with some of their fans really well."Ria!, Ria!... Hungaria!"
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| My view of Belgium v Hungary |
Sitting in the dark on the top of that hill in just a T shirt, it had got very cold. So much so that I actually had to leave before the end, with the score at 3-0, to get back to the car to warm up.
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| A nip in the air as I leave Carcassonne |
And so, as midnight approached, I headed further east heading towards Montpellier. As soon as I got a little sleepy I stopped the car at a quiet rest area, flipped the seat back, put on a few layers and my rain coat, and went to sleep.
So ended Sunday night. Another great day!
Aljice
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