Pages

Monday, June 26, 2006

Football's gone abroad (second half)

So here I am in Barcelona and there’s an England game this evening. There’s already some confusion on when the game is. After much debate, we thought that we are now one hour ahead in Barcelona but according to the time in the paper that the cab driver showed us, the England game is on two hours later than it should be. Unsure of exactly what sort of time warp we have travelled through, we arrange to meet other friends at a bar to watch the game.

The nearest Metro station (or estácio) seems to be closed for building work so it’s a short five minute walk to the next nearest. We buy a T-10 ticket, similar to a CarNet ticket, and the three of us use it to go through the station turnstiles. I’m not even sure that you can use a T-10 for more than one person in this way but no one ever stopped us on our travels and it was a case of entering within the spirit of the law if not within the letter.

Once on the platform, the heat is unbearable, humid and suffocating. A train is mercifully quick to arrive. The carriage is packed and, while air-conditioned, the number of people make it hot and uncomfortable. After a couple of stops, we get seats and away from the doors and the crowds, the air-conditioning seems much more effective. It’s at this point we make another discovery. Someone’s mobile phone goes off elsewhere in the carriage. We all reach into our pockets to check our phones. We all have full-strength signals! Air-conditioning and mobile phone signals? This beats the Tube. Pete is so excited by this that he can’t help phoning a friend we are meeting later, spending a small fortune, just to tell him that he is on the Metro and his phone still works.

We disembark at La Ramblas, which appears to be the main tourist strip of Barcelona. In some ways it is similar to Leicester Square, full of bars, shops, people, buskers and activity. We wander up the street in search of the Jules Verne bar, a supposedly English bar, where our friends are waiting. When we find it, it is packed. There are crowds of people outside watching the screens and there is no way we will get in.

My companions have been to Barcelona before and Plan B is quickly formulated. There’s a good bar off the main strip that should be showing the game. We head back the way we came, quietly hoping no one scores while we find the bar. We wander down some side streets until we find it. It’s not showing the game despite having a TV.

‘Didn’t we see another bar with the game on? Let’s head back that way.’

Round the corner we find a busy bar showing the game. We make our way to the bar and note that it’s still 0-0. I knew I could rely on England not to score while we found somewhere to watch the game. I know I can generally rely on England not to score.

I was looking forward to seeing the game in a foreign country. One of the things I hate about England is our fans. The blaring of car horns, the chanting, the wild celebrations, all after barely scraping a win. It’s embarrassing to celebrate beating smaller teams in such a manner. At least in Barcelona we can escape that, grab a beer and enjoy the game without the borderline racist remarks, the uninformed diatribes and the constant abuse thrown at the players on the screen.

Apart from everyone in the bar seemed to be English. People barged past us as we watched the game, apologising in some hybrid of Essex and Spanish not realising that everyone around them was English too. I doubt there were any Spaniards in the bar and when England scored, the reactions proved this. In fairness, no one reached the depths I’d witnessed while watching games in Brighton and it was a good humoured crowd. I probably shouted my own fair share of abuse at our insipid performance anyway.

After the game finished, we headed back to the Q Bar. As we entered, the second half of the game was confusingly kicking off. Then the penny dropped and the differences in time made sense. Live games were shown on a subscription channel, while Spanish TV showed them with an hour delay.

Another lesson learned.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Knowing of plans to fit out mobile antennas to stations on the London underground, I can't help but wonder how long the novelty will last. It's bad enough with the noise of the tube itself, imagine the racket caused by countless crazy frog alarms come Monday morning rush hour! A double edged sword if ever there was one :(

MonkeyTypes said...

The thing was that it wasn't intrusive in Barcelona. Hardly anyone seemed to use their phones on the Metro. You're right, in London it'll be horrendous.

No manners, no respect, bring back the birch, etc.

[/Daily Mail]

Jon, not Antifrog said...

Ah, they'll never do it. Not within the span of our lives anyway.

MonkeyTypes said...

What? Get mobiles working on the underground or introducing Daily Mail type penal systems?