Deciding to go the long way round to Euro 2012
I’m never one to make things easy when it comes to travel. So, when my brother and I got tickets for England v Sweden at Euro 2012 in Ukraine, rather than fly direct like normal humans, we conjured up a route starting in Romania and travelling by train through Moldova to Kiev.
Bucharest: Generosity and a Quick Scam
Bleary‑eyed from our early morning flight, we arrived at Bucharest airport and headed for the bus. To board, you needed a ticket from a nearby machine. The machine wasn’t working and the driver wouldn’t accept cash.
Seeing our dilemma, a young local woman kindly paid for our tickets using her monthly pass. Such generosity. A reminder that there are some incredibly generous souls in this world.
Twenty minutes later, she was giving us the low‑down on the city as we rode to the metro.
At the kiosk, I bought two metro tickets and the assistant tried to short‑change me.
She wasn’t even subtle about it. So within half an hour we’d seen both the good and bad sides of Bucharest.
The city is big and sprawling. The centre didn’t offer much, and the small old town wasn’t particularly pretty after being battered by Allied bombing in WWII and Communist redevelopment.
But Bucharest does have a large number of well‑sized parks, so we spent most of the day wandering those, even taking a nap by Lake Herastrau.
The Train to Moldova: First Class and First Warnings
By mid‑evening it was time to take our train to Chisinau, the capital of Moldova.
Very tired, we booked a first‑class 2‑berth cabin for 200 lei (35 pounds) for the 13‑hour journey.
Moldova is Europe’s poorest country, with little major industry and less support from Russia since the fall of the Soviet Union. They do, however, make decent wine.
Chisinau is a drab small city with a handful of architectural sights, a massive flea market, some lakes and plenty of high‑rise Communist blocks. There were no tourists, just a tiny handful of expats. We met up with a Couchsurfer called Sergei who showed us around before it was time to catch our overnight train to Kiev.
The Dodgy Bags Incident
We had a 4‑berth cabin but just the two of us occupied it. Hardly anyone else was on the 16‑hour train. Just after boarding, some dodgy‑looking guys and the carriage assistant dropped three large bags into our cabin.
In my broken Russian, I asked whose bags they were. He said they’d move them in five minutes. Nobody came. We fell asleep.
A few hours later, my brother woke up having a paranoid attack that the bags might contain something dodgy and that when we crossed the border they could pin it on us.
I agreed it was a bit suspicious. So we opened our cabin door, tip‑toed down the aisle and dumped the bags outside the assistant’s room, then went back to sleep.
The border was a formality and we arrived in Kiev early afternoon after our mammoth journey.
Kiev and the Legend That Is Alex
On arrival, we met up with Alex. Let me tell you about the legend that is Alex.
Alex loves watching England play football even though he’s Belarusian and lives in Minsk.
We first met him in Poland in 2004 when England played Poland in a qualifier. A few weeks later he travelled to Azerbaijan to meet us for the game there. I’ve met him all over the world since, either at football matches or just travelling.
In Kiev, he had a friend who kindly put all three of us up for the night.
We walked around the city, visited the wonderful green‑onion‑domed St Andrews Church and strolled along the Dnipro River.
I’d been to Kiev in 2009 for another England game, but this time was different. Euro 2012 was in full swing and supporters from all over Europe were in town.
England v Sweden: A Classic
After an unbeaten qualifying campaign and a decent opening draw with France, England’s chances were, as ever, hyped up but realistically non‑existent. They faced Sweden, a team they’d only recently beaten in a friendly for the first time in 43 years.
The game ended up being one of the best of the tournament. England won 3‑2 with a late goal.
(Only to go out on penalties to Italy in the quarter‑final. Naturally.)
After 8 years of following England and disappointment around the world, that was my last England game.
Coupling travel with football had combined my two passions in life and while the travelling would continue for many years to come, it was time to say goodbye to many years of hurt following England.
