That's about the nicest way I could describe some of the events to follow.
The ride to Wales was really quite uneventful. We arrived at our hostel, got our stuff in and headed out to get some food. The hostel was across the street and river from Cardiff's rugby team's stadium. Our room was really small. I mean small. This was probably the smallest room we have ever been in. Im talking, bunkbeds, some quasi dresser in the corner and like about a foot to the wall, that's it. We had to move around and do some serious Twister just to move around. If one of us wanted to leave, you hand to land on left foot and red.
We walked to a pub, yes, I can tell you're surprised. They were almost done serving so we made some decisions and got up to the bar to order. We sat down to wait and the bartender forgets our drinks. A bunch of people come in and order. So after a few minutes Jess heads up there and he seats he'll bring them. The food start coming out and were eating and all of a sudden the area where we are is getting swarmed by mid 60ish people. There had to be like twenty of them just milling about our area. They were everywhere, blocking the tv and just generally in the way. The people were fine not rude or anything just swarming around and in the way.
After dinner we decided to walk through the park that was there and head in to the town to see if Cardiff Castle was lit up and we could see it. It was not lit up well and we could see it but certainly not enough that we would be satisfied. There were flags from other countries on all the ramparts but I could not find the US flag and of course that was pissing me off. WTF did we do to the Welsh? We walked around to look for a cache and look at the cathedral and it definitely was not there (the cache not the cathedral) so we decided to head back to the hostel and the smallest room in the UK. On the way back there were a ton of clubs and even more young chicks puking on the street. Mind you, it's 9:30. Some were puking in the garbage, others I think on their shoes, one guy of course taking the cheap feel from behind. We got back in and decided to call it a night because we needed to get up and then head to the happiest place on Earth.
We got up and had breakfast after Jess moved the car down to a pay spot which was fine. We packed up the car and headed over Cardiff Castle. The area that was walled was pretty large. There was a gate and right smacking the middle a keep on a man build mound and that was pretty cool. We took the tour which took you in to a bunch of rooms that were not open on the general tour. The original and the mound was built by William the Conqueror and continued to grow from there. I believe that at some point it fell in to disuse but was then saved andurchased by the Lord of Bute, who at the time was the richest man in Europe. Oh yeah, he was a Scot, so of course he was brilliant, rich and very good looking. He was so rich that he wanted the place to be redesigned as a medieval castle including all of the friezes on the walls and gilded stuff all the moulding and stuff. The place was done up in a really eccentric way. The children's nursery had characters from popular children's! stories painted in medieval motif. The whole place was done up with tons of detail, i think he just didn't know how to spend all of the money he had. It was not my style but it was still cool because it was a castle and if I had a ton of dough, I'd build a castle with a deep ass moat and all. At one point some cheap bastard snuck in to our tour on the other side of the rope. The guide handled it really well, i would have been like, "uh, yeah, sir, this is a private tour. You cheap turd." I took a bunch of pictures and we decided to go and get some lunch for the ride to Liverpool.
We got back to the car, full of hope and happiness for the long but what should be worth it ride ahead of us. We expect the ride to be somewhere between 3.5 and 4 hours. We should be able to get to our room and then take the bus over to Anfield.
Before leaving we had to get gas, the first time the entire trip. We have a VW Golf and it's a TDI - I may actually have to get a diesel at home because the gas mileage is amazing. We get up to the pump and I can't pay for it at the pump with my cart. It's a TESCO which is like COSTCO but you don't have to be a member. It won't take my card probably because we don't have the stupid chip so I go inside and wait on the long line. After quite a few minutes of waiting I get up there and the woman tells me, no, you have to pump first. I went in to give them cash so I could fill up. Really, so I go back out and and another woman asks us if there is a problem and we say it's not working and she says that the one we we're on is for fuel only and we can use any of the others. Fucking whatever, it's been 10 minutes already and we have no gas, so we get on another line, four cars deep. We are waiting for a few minutes and like the person in front of us, are waiting for the second person to finish so she can drive through to the first pump and we can take the second. Next to us some asshole zips off his line to the front of ours, Jess starts beeping, the lady is beeping and this dude has cut the line. He gets out and is laughing at her, and she's yelling. I didn't know they had fucking white trash in Wales, because that's exactly what he was, and I should know that being white trash crosses boundaries, especially after seeing all the drunk chicks puking and getting felt up on the streets of Cardiff. We get up to the pump and it wont take my card and says there is a fucking error. I'm not getting on another fucking line. Jess goes in to talk to the woman, and tells her the pump needs to be reset and they start talking about it and some other crazy bitch is in the store and not even on the line and the woman tells Jess she will come outside with her to check it out and the woman screams! Jess and the attendant head outside and the woman agrees with her and resets the thing. I'm pumping and Jess goes back inside, the crazy woman apologizes to her and says she's on some new meds. Really? Finally full of diesel, we're on our way but we're not too far behind schedule.
We going and things are going well. We're moving along and then we start to hear a few reports on the news. There's been an accident and at least one lane is closed, there are going to be delays. Ok, not too bad, we left later than expected but from what I've been told, it doesn't really get started until about 45 minutes before the game - the singing and the banner waving in the Kop, the building of the atmosphere for the game...we should still be there in more than enough time to soak it all up and enjoy the experience.
There's another report a different accident and traffic is queuing, which is the fancy British way of saying it fucking backed up to the Southern State from Pennsylvania Avenue on the Belt. The little arrows on the GPS are building up a little ways ahead of us, Jess isn't driving the speed limit let alone 10-20 mph ahead of it, this does not look good. Jess has to pee.
Sure, why not. I would love nothing more than to be late to the first fucking European Football game in Europe that I get to go to. Oh yeah, AND it's the club I have supported since 1996. Let's pee, get a bite to eat and a massage. Traffic is queuing, rather it's getting jam fucking packed, there's another accident and oh, what's this, another report on our road? Sure, let's stop. In case you can't tell, I'm getting fucking anxious.
The GPS woman is working her ass off trying to figure out how to divert us around some of the traffic in Birmingham and get us around that which she does but it doesn't make a massive amount of a difference because the traffic starts fucking queuing on that road as well. Queue rhymes with fuck you.
Long story short with less cursing is that we left at 12:30 and got to within a quarter mile of the stadium by like 6, when the game starts. I'm pissed and Jess, has to talk because that's what women do. Jess likes to question too. So she questions me for a good 45 minutes of this trip, my short answers do not even slow her barrage one bit. Her final question, "So what's the thing you fear most?" prompted the response, "Being stuck in a car with someone for five and a half hours and having them pepper me with questions when I am not really in the mood to talk : )" As expected, that went over like a lead balloon.
Five and a half fucking hours. Liverpool near the stadium at night is fucking scary. Real scary. Like the shittiest area of the South Bronx scary. I'm antsy, it's six pm, the game had started, Jess is pressing me to make a decision on where to go because we can't seem to find parking, because, well, there is none. Not like stadiums at home. We ask two guys walking to the match if there is any and they send us back down the street to look for the car park sign, it's five pounds. So, we head down and find the signs, it points in to a housing project kind of a place and it doesn't look like there's a lot. As a matter of fact, I don't know where the fuck we are and neither do the people in front of us or behind us also looking for the car park. We ask some woman and her baby daddy pushing a pram where the car park is and she says, in the thickest fucking scouse-ghetto scary accent, "Am-er-ok luv it's jus' back there luv. Backit up and coman o'er here." With that, she points to some make shift ramp up and over the curb, then she screams over to some guy on the other side of the sidewalk in a yellow vest and he waves us over. We pull over there and down the curb, not causing any damage to the car (not that I would have cared because it is already 10 after) and he points us down this alley which may or may not house some kind of legitimate business during the day. I know they've heard my accent and they're drooling, just licking their chops. I'm not really sure about this but it's 10 after and we're fucking late. We get out and I dump the iPad in the back, along with the macbook, and the new GPS, just um, I dunno, around 3K worth of electronics, in the rental in some lot in a real shitty section of Liverpool. Not sure just how insane I am, but this clearly confirms some level of insanity. I gave the guy five pounds and why not, he's gonna need bus fare to get to the fucking pawn shop to sell my shit.
We race through the streets and get to Anfield, we've both got to pee, Jess worse than I do. Did I just hear glass break and an alarm go off?
We ask where to get our tickets and they tell us where I think we are in the right spot, but it doesn't seem right. We ask someone else and he sends us to the regular ticket stand, she tells us to go to the spot near where our seats are, the when we get over there, another guy says to go to other side of the stadium to the corporate ticket sales. It's at least a quarter after. The next guy, says he will walk us over there and he loves that we're American and Jess' accent. He's asking her to say all sorts of stuff, he loves how she says Oh My God, and he gets us to the corporate spot and the office is closed. Jess has to pee and is getting angry, she asks if there is anything they can do, call on a walkie or something and they're all fucking laid back. She's getting angry and sees a bathroom and takes off in there. She's angry. I know to step back because if she's pissed, it's only going to fuel me on. So the guy and I are waiting for her and he's talking to me and is like, "Oh, you're from NY, I can tell from your accent." I say, yeah I am, and this whole thing is fucked up, because we've been in the car for five and a half fucking hours from Cardiff and the fucking game is on and it's twenty minutes in already and no one knows where my fucking tickets are. He agrees but let's be honest, we both know there ain't shit he can or will do about it. Conversation over.
Jess comes out of the bathroom and says she's more agreeable now that she has gone. He walks us over to a woman at reception who does not have our tickets and says we have to go to the same spot on the other side, where we were. We get back there and we're finally in the right spot and the guy gets us our tickets and walks us through the bar area and tells us to come back to get our programs, they're out now. We walk up and find our section and someone walks us to our seats, it's 30 minutes in, the entire row needs to get up so we can get to our seats.
I'm the fucking people I hate a Mets' games.
I apologize to everyone as we pass and we get to our seats an there's someone in them. Get the fuck up. They're sort of arguing, people are standing up and blocking others' view. I'm trying to watch the game and Jess is telling them they need to move, as is the lady who we are siting next to, she agrees that we are in the right spot. Finally we sit down. The traveling fans from Prague were standing and singing the entire time. The rest of the place was actually pretty quiet. It's all very proper and not what I expected. It was too quiet.
I forgot the charged batter for my Cannon in the car.
I also left my Liverpool hat and scarf because I was trying not to let all the derelicts see what was in the trunk.
It's about 33 minutes into the half. Joe Cole just took about 5 too many touches and has missed the fucking goal.
The seat are really tight. I mean TIGHT. Like my knees are in the person in front of me. Oh yeah, we're on the touchline of the Anfield Road end in the Centenary Stand.
Before we know it, it's half time. We try to make our way out to the bar area again. The hallway is tight. I'm talking 10 minutes to walk 100 feet. No wonder there are fucking major catastrophes at these games, there is literally no where to move. How the hell could they evacuate during an emergency? It was so quiet in here as well, you could hear a pin drop. It was silent.
We get to the bar and get a drink each. My Guinness is nowhere near the top. As a matter of fact, it's spilling over the sides as if he's shaken it like a martini. We down our drinks - with nothing in our bellies and head back. The game has started AGAIN but luckily we're not the last to our seats.
Oh yeah, we're also not playing a strong squad: no Gerrard, no Carragher, no Johnson, no Skrtel. No Suarez or Carroll. Why are we here?
Carra gets subbed in later and somewhere in the 80something minute, Kuyt heads one in to the back of the net!!! It's about time something went right.
The game ended and we won and are now moving on the the Europa League Round of 16. The game goes by so much faster when you're there. Seriously, 45 minutes for the half felt like 5. We head out and get our programs and attempt to go to the club shop. Stupid move, it was so packed, even more so than my seat and the halls inside. We get separated, I finally find her and say, "Let's get the fuck out of here before they take the tires too." We make our way back to the car and breathe a BIG sigh of relief as the car is there and no one seems to have busted in. We use the navigation unit and avoid a good deal of traffic and get to our B&B (more on this tomorrow). We go and get some amazing Greek food from our Turkish waiter. The food really was good - some of the best I've ever had, Greek or otherwise. We walk back to the place, and try to get on the internet but cannot.
While I expected my first trip to see Liverpool at Anfield to be breathtaking, I never expected it to be so anti-climactic as being kicked in the nuts and losing your breath! That being said, I love my wife for taking and driving the five and a half hours to get me there during her vacation as well. She won't admit it, but she had a good time there too.
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