I arrived in Amsterdam around lunchtime on Monday 19^th Feb full of excitement of watching the match and also visiting my Dutch friends whom I met in Paris on the day of the European Cup final. I hadn’t seen them since that disappointing night at the Stade de France so when the PSV draw came through it seemed the perfect opportunity.

By hook or by crook I was able to get two additional tickets for my hosts and knew I was going to have a good time. I made my way from Schiphol Airport to Breda on a couple of trains in a couple of hours. While I was told it was Carnival time, I didn’t know exactly what this meant. On the train, it stopped at the town before my final destination and on got two skeletons. Literally two guys (or maybe girls I couldn’t tell) got on the train dressed like skeletons straight out of an Abbott and Costello movie from the 1950’s. That should have set the old alarm bells ringing!

I contacted my friend and he said he would meet me at the train station and that he was dressed as a cow with orange hair. Great, I thought, he’s a nutter. As I walked through the streets it felt very surreal. People everywhere were walking along dressed as animals, characters from films, children’s books, nightmares and fantasy. All minding their own business!!! Then I saw my friend. He didn’t lie about his clothing.

In the town the whole place was buzzing. Floats the sizes of houses were going by one after the other. I can’t recall the theme but it was wide open to interpretation so the floats were much varied. The thing they had in common was months of effort planning and creating these wonderful beasts. It was most definitely party time in Breda. Off to the shop for a case of beers and back to my friends house to dump my stuff. After sinking a few beers it was time to dress up as a cow, stick on my orange wig and head back into town. If you can’t beat them…..

Some bar or other in Breda (Man, I Love carnival!)
 

We went to the first bar we came too. It was a boat with a party below deck. The music was pumping and the beer was flowing. After about an hour we headed for some food. It was 5pm!!! Every bar and restaurant was jammed full, so we went to another bar, then another followed by another. We ended up in a street outside a bar dancing to the strangest combination of music. Hard house and pop and the traditional carnival (um-pah) music blended together in a genius way that somehow seemed to work. The night became morning and the morning became afternoon….. It was nearly time for the match.

Our other friend met us back at the house around 3pm. I hadn’t been up long! Quick shower, on with the colours and off to the match via the most natural place for three guys going to a football match. We went to the nearest pub and played darts. Got a few cans for the train and a quick bite to eat and headed off on the 1 hour trip to Eindhoven.

We heard that there was a special tent erected for the Arsenal fans in some square so we headed there. It was full of PSV so the next meeting place was the Irish bar (where else?). It was full of Gooners, and it sold Guinness. Perfect, well apart from the Guinness which was far from it. Out in the street singing all the songs, some old, some new and some in celebration “Oh, Rocky, Rocky…..”

Irish Bar in Eindhoven

And another...

A must have spoke to 30 different people. Brilliant. We headed in a group to the game. I was chatting to a bloke who just spent 5 grand on his club level ticket. Those guys get a hard time, some rightly, but this bloke is a true red.

We were treated like animals as we were getting into the ground, all cramped into a fenced off section where we waited patiently, and surprisingly quietly, as the row of 6-8 wide (200 deep) had to squeeze through two tiny turnstiles. We finally got into the ground about 30 mins before KO. No beers as it was a Champions League match so we headed up to the seats. Up, and up, and up, and up. The away section is the furthest point of the stadium. The seating was unreserved so you could sit anywhere. There were three of us in two seats near the front. No way was I walking up any more steps. To make matters worse we had to watch game through netting. We are The Arsenal, not the Leeds or Chelsea hooligans of the 70’s.

Watching through a net

The match started. Arsenal are playing very well, dominating possession like we have in most games this season. A few chances missed or saved with PSV unable to get into the Arsenal half. This is going to be easy. Unbelievably 0-0 at half time.

No one goes down for food or drinks, it’s too far. People are using the concrete stairwells as toilets rather then walk back down to the bottom where the urinals are.

The second half starts and Arsenal look like a different team. Tired and jaded. Losing possession and giving away free kicks. The lucky thing is that PSV are no better either. That is until there’s a break and Arsenal's defence is nowhere to be seen. 1-0 to PSV and that’s how it stayed.

After the match we were held in for 15 minutes, it seemed like an hour as we were trying to get down the piss soaked steps. People were slipping over in it. Not very pleasant at all. The way out took us to a train platform where a train was waiting to take people back to Amsterdam. Great, but not for us as we wanted to go back to Breda. It was just two of us walking back to Eindhoven train station, the other mate got a lift, yet the police still blocked off the roads forcing us to go a longer way back. Got back to Breda after midnight, just in time for a few more beers.

The following day I headed back home after another disappointing European trip. On the brightside though, I had a ticket to the Carling Cup Final, in Cardiff, to look forward to in a couple of days time….