DAY 1: Thursday
Four hours later I was awake, still more focused on finishing the video than packing. Eventually both were finished just before 6am; the video finally saved into a WMV file which I loaded onto my memory stick after which I set about packing my bag. With half an hour to spare, I strolled through the darkness of Tuam with the glowing orange street lights for company. “Go” by The Chemical Brothers was playing, and I was bouncing my way to bus stop. A monumental five days was ahead of me.
I had a 10am flight to Faro. Upon arrival at Knock Airport, I had a lonely wait for about an hour or so in the airport before more Irish fans started to turn up. My consolation was paying nearly €10 for a very limited Irish breakfast. In a weekend where every saving counted, this was the first of many blows. As I finished my breakfast, 3 lads I knew had arrived and naturally we started on the pints. They, too, would be the first of many. News was coming from those already over in Albufeira of the heavy handed approach the local police were taking at night. They were charging and attacking Irish fans for no apparent reason. This is something I never witnessed or indeed heard of an away trip given our great reputation as football fans. The four of us joked that we were the reinforcements on our way to back the lads up.
A three hour flight flew by thanks to some much needed sleep. We arrived in Faro at around 1pm. After sharing a Taxi with two of the lads to their accommodation, I got another to mine and checked in. Upon arrival in my accommodation, the pleasant Solar De Joao complex, I opened my bag to find no extra pairs of socks. The first setback of my trip had been confirmed. I was to survive forty-eight hours in the heat of Algarve with one fucking pair of socks. I wouldn’t mind but I had laid out spare pairs when packing my bag that morning! I already needed to change my top given the heat, what would I be like with socks!
A number of lads from the YBIG.ie forum I knew of were also staying in the same spot. Most of them were heading along to a 5 a side competition arranged by others from the forum. I decided long ago, when it was first mooted, that I wouldn’t be taking part but was happy to go along and watch. And despite my predicament of a single pair of socks and the immense heat on show that day, it wasn’t long before I wanted to take part. Chalk that down to the competitive nature within me. I eventually did get to take part to relieve one lad who was close to suffering from heat stroke from all the running. My fresh nature immediately prompted alarm from an opponent “would you stop running around”. Even a 5 minute half left me sweating buckets and needing refreshment and another change of clothes back at the apartment.
A few hours chilling was necessary before heading out to take in the nightlife in the area. I had an ingenious, if slightly disturbing, method of handling my sock problem by leaving them cooling in a fridge I wasn’t going to use in my studio apartment. (Bear Grylls has nothing on me!). With my socks and body refreshed, it was time to take in the nightlife. Naturally things were hectic, given the time of year! The strip was located just down the road from our accommodation however, it came across to me as unbelievably tacky. I wasn't going to be spending much time here I thought. Thankfully another group shared the same sentiment and we made our way to the Old Town.
This was a much more respectable area and we made a night of it. There was a good karaoke set-up in the first spot we went to and one of the lads gave a fine rendition of “We Can Boogie”, the new adopted anthem of Irish fans abroad! This was followed by a strange man from the North of Ireland lecturing us on how proud we should be representing Ireland on the continent. He followed this up by butchering a rebel classic. It was a cue to leave and find a new spot. We were spoilt for choice in the town centre moved around to a couple of bars in the area. I later broke away from the main group later on to find a friend of mine who had my ticket for the Georgia game on Monday. It was impossible to make conversation as the music was blaring. 48 hours wasn't enough time to take in all of what Albufeira offered, I had to take in what I could.
The pints were flowing and Mondays game was a long way from my mind at that time. It was around 3am the alcohol began to take a seedy side effect and I knew it was time to head home. I somehow stumbled my way to the Taxi rank and handed the driver a business card from my accommodation. After a bit of hassle with the door of my apartment I fell on the bed. I had survived the first day.
Only four more of these to go.
Part 2:
https://shotsfromdistance.blogspot.ie/2016/03/5-days-in-september-part-2.html
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