Out there I feel sad not to see her no more

To Chichester on Saturday for AFC Portchester’s away game with Bognor Regis Town. Met Ian on the train from Havant, but the rest of the Portchy crowd made their own way there. Ian said Brian was a real ale aficionado and would find us a good pub, so we waited outside the station for Brian to arrive then let him lead us through the city centre and down a side street to the Hole In The Wall. On our way we met Martin and he joined us.

Brian’s knowledge of the Good Beer Guide had served us well. The Hole was a lovely little place with real ales on six pumps and ciders on four. Brian and I both opted for the milk stout, very tasty. We found a corner table and studied the food menu. I asked for halloumi fries. The barman said they were off, so I went for the buttermilk chicken and the barman said “The buttermilk chicken’s better”. It was certainly first class. I just managed to resist the temptation to order seconds.

We all talked about Portchester’s prospects and players, and various places around the world where we’d seen football matches. Brian, a West London native, told us of his days supporting QPR and Harrow Borough - whom Portchester play next Saturday. He reckons he’s going to make a half-and-half scarf. Ian and Martin, supporters of Portsmouth FC to varying degrees, mused on Pompey’s current travails and predicted they were heading for League One.

We moseyed on to the ground, where the bar was decked out with Christmas decorations. I got some very tasty Southern fried chicken tenders and chips from the tea bar. Dan, Shaun, Nigel and a few others were there and had put up the Arancione banners as we gathered behind the goal. Michael Birmingham, the Bognor manager who’d wound us up with his antics in August, is no longer with Bognor so we interspersed the usual song repertoire with a few choruses of “Where’s your Birmy gone?” Bognor scored in a breakaway about halfway through the first half.

On 70 minutes Reuben Austin floated a free kick into the box for Portchester and Archie Willcox popped up at the back stick to head across the goalmouth and in for the equaliser. The referee seemed to be losing it as Bognor players got away with some physical shithousery, but the Arancione had the last laugh when Reuben fired an injury-time winner in off the crossbar.

The rest of the Portchy fans stayed on after the whistle to soak up the atmosphere. I said quick goodbyes and made for the train station in the hope of getting home for a good chunk of the Lionesses’ friendly with China.

That was the plan. Alas, after changing trains at Fratton station it gradually became evident that there were no trains running to Portsmouth Harbour. A fault with the signalling, apparently. I, along with a girl in the same boat, meandered out of the station and across the road to the bus stop, where at least the buses were accepting train tickets. Made it home for the last 20 minutes of the England game, seeing the last two goals of the Lionesses’ 8-0 rout of China.

I felt touched, yet sorry I hadn’t been able to be there, seeing photos of Crystal, Jules, Kathy, Jill and Steph all sitting together at the Lionesses match. When I messaged Crystal, she said I’d been missed. She’s a sweetheart.

Yesterday went to King George playing fields (lunching at the nearby McDonald’s first) to see the AFC Portchester Ladies Reserves play Basingstoke Town Women. Stacy, recovering from an operation, had come along to watch on her crutches. She followed the live stream of the first team’s Women’s FA Cup tie with Worthing on her phone, keeping us updated as the firsts came back from conceding an early goal to win 4-1 and set up a home encounter with WSL 2 side Ipswich. Meanwhile, the Reserve girls dominated their game and overcame determined defending to win 2-0 with goals from Aimee with the blue hair and Eilidh.

Got a lift to Woking with Dan on Tuesday night for Westfield v AFC Portchester, a new ground tick number 484 (plus a chance to bag the Luis Figo badge on Futbology). Joe and Colin joined us. We had to contend with a lot of traffic just getting out of Portsmouth, because of the firework display on Southsea Common. We talked a lot about Portchester’s team and fortunes on the drive, though as Dan and Colin also follow Portsmouth and Joe also follows Tottenham there was a fair bit of chat about those teams.

Once past the turnstile, the clubhouse was up a flight of stairs. The bar was comfortable, if a little compact, and the bartenders friendly and welcoming. The raffle ticket man was straight on to us as soon as we got to the bar; he was a jovial enough chap and I’m always happy to chip in for a non league club so bought a ticket, though sadly few other Portchy fans appeared to buy one.

Lewis and several more of the usual crew had also made the trip so we gathered behind the goal Portchester were shooting into each half, keeping up our song repertoire the whole game. Lee Wort put us in front early on, sparking a rendition of “Hey baby, ooh! aah! I wanna kno-o-ow if you love Lee Wort”. Westfield equalised just after the quarter hour mark. Late in the half Jack Lee timed his run perfectly to head home a corner, but just before the break Westfield struck again. 2-2. “Same again in the second half,” Justin said - jokingly…

Josh Clack had a shot deflected in ten minutes after the break, then soon after Lee Wort raced onto a through ball to drill home a low shot. 4-2 and Portchester appeared to be cruising, but Westfield attacked relentlessly from then on, and they scored from a goalmouth scramble on 72 minutes. The siege continued, and just into injury time a Westfield cross was diverted in for an own goal. It ended 4-4 and everyone reminded Justin of his words from half time! Before the game most of us would have taken a draw away to Westfield who were second in the table, but some like Dan thought a 4-2 lead shouldn’t have been let slip.

Getting home was a palaver as we were diverted off the A3 due to night roadworks, and the signs seemed to keep sending us back in the direction we’d come from. Eventually Dan found a way to head back towards Portsmouth, but it became clear we weren’t going to make Cosham station in time to make a train to reach Portsmouth Harbour before the last ferry left. Dan dropped me at Fareham rail station and it wasn’t long before a taxi pulled in.

Wednesday evening was the Round The Horne stage show at Fareham Live. Bumped into Brad, who I worked with at ONS, and his friend Lynda in the cafe. He called out to me when I was queueing at the counter. Naturally, as Round The Horne fans I had to greet him “How bona to vada your dolly old eek!” We sat and talked about the classic radio comedy shows. We were all delighted to see from a flyer we’d been given that a stage show of the Two Ronnies’ Phantom Raspberry Blower of Old London Town is due next year. Brad being a The Prisoner nut, we parted to our respective seats with a “Be seeing you!”

The show was an on-stage recreation of a radio production of Round The Horne, with an old style ‘On Air’ sign, five people in chairs playing Kenneth Horne, Douglas Smith, Kenneth Williams, Betty Marsden and Hugh Paddick, and a sound effects man behind a table marked with an old style BBC logo. There were two halves, staged as two episodes, each comprised of material from the original shows. Eve Winters was fantastic as Betty Marsden. Colin Elmer was hilarious as Kenneth Williams. As always my favourites were the Rambling Syd Rumpo songs, The Ballad of the Woggler’s Moulie in the first half and Green Grow My Nadgers O, for which the cast got us all singing along, in the second.

Friday evening was Portsmouth Oktoberfest at the Guildhall. Two guys in lederhosen in the queue noticed with amusement that I’d come in civvies. I quipped that when I saw them dressed up I thought they were part of the oompah band. The bar, despite advertising Paulaner Weißbier Dunkel, didn’t actually have it, so I spent the night on Paulaner Lemon Radlers. Bratwursts from the van very tasty. The Oompah Brass were good playing a selection of well known party tunes. They did several renditions of the Bavarian drinking chant “Ein Prosit der Gemütlichkeit”, and they had a routine where they got us to link arms and ‘lean forward, lean backward, to the left, to the right, stand up, sit down, to the left, to the right,” repeating the routine progressively faster. That one was quite amusing the first time, but it started to pall by the seventh time they launched into it in an hour. Next was singer Darren Poyser, who got a big thumbs up from me for opening with Sit Down by James and included several more classics in his set like American Pie and Summer of ‘69.

Yesterday joined several of the Portchester crew on the train to their match at Littlehampton - new ground 485. We’d just come out of the station when we met Lewis and his pal Alex, a local. Alex tipped us off about a new sports bar, The Bear, so several of us went there for a couple of pints and a chat and Tottenham v Man Utd on the big screen.

In the ground we gathered behind the goal for the first half. We kept up the chants again but the defence were caught napping, allowing Littlehampton two early goals. Just before half time Tommy Scutt fired home a rocket, then soon after Josh Clack pounced in the box to equalise for Portchester.

The tea hut was equipped with several mugs advertising a haulage firm with bases in London, Hemel Hempstead, Reading and Oxford - but none anywhere near Littlehampton. Quite how those mugs ended up at the club I’d love to know. Another of those quirks that make non league football so compelling.

For the second half the Portchester support gathered on a terrace, along a long side at the end nearest the goal we’d be shooting for. The steady flow of songs continued, and one guy kept making an almighty din by banging on the metal wall at the back of the terrace, but Littlehampton scored the only goal of the half to take the points.

My encounter with the Portchy Ladies Reserves girls a fortnight ago reminded me that I hadn’t seen them play since pre-season. And then last Sunday came news that Stacy scored. Then this week Stacy and Roxy sent me an invitation to their wedding reception next summer. So today I moseyed over to the new King George V football complex at Cosham - new ground 486 - to see them play Shanklin. When Roxy arrived I thanked her for the invitation and she said “We look forward to seeing you there”. Stacy warned me that they wouldn’t be on the state of the art new 3Gs but on one of the old grass pitches. And so it proved. Another afternoon on my feet. At least the cafe and loos were a step up from the days playing on the Wicor outside pitch when the stadium facilities were closed.

Stacy, Charley, Lisa, Paula and Co. all glad to see me again. They won 6-2, Eilidh scoring four, three of them lobs over the goalie from set pieces. After the game Charley said this had been predicted to be their toughest league game so everyone was chuffed. As I said goodbye to Stacy she said it would be her last game for a few weeks as she’s going in for an operation. I wished her luck.

Brighton & Hove Albion Women v Man Utd Women. A noon kick-off with replacement buses on the route from Portsmouth to Crawley. So I’d booked train tickets to Gatwick Airport, knowing a bus went from there to the ground.

The down side was that the train from Portsmouth to Gatwick goes all the way round via Hove, making for a long ride. And it wasn’t long before the train filled, leaving me pinned in my window seat with the other two people on my bench bunched close together. Arriving at Gatwick came as a blessed relief.

It’s always a wistful feeling passing through a bit of the terminal to get from the train station to the bus stop, passing departing and returning holidaymakers. At the bus stop, several people in open-topped vintage cars went by, some dressed up in costumes, and most of them exchanged waves with us people in the bus queue. The only ones to ignore us were a group done up as young 1920s toffs in blazers - someone should have let them know that dressing as posh people does not oblige you to act stuck-up.

As the bus rolled towards Crawley town a few more people going to the game got on - a couple in Brighton scarves, and a Manchester United fan who sat next to me. I asked him how his journey down was, and he replied “Good”…in a foreign accent. From the bus I saw a sign pointing down a side road saying ‘VCR Pitstop’. A couple of the vintage cars turned that way. Obviously a rally.

It was close to 11.30 when I arrived at the ground and there was a lengthy queue at the turnstiles for my stand. Along the side was a pizza stall and a mobile chippy, dispensing some very tempting looking chips. After six or so people and couples, it wasn’t clear whether the queue carried on; there was a group of girls at that point so I asked “Are you for the chippy?”

“Yes, sorry,” said one of the girls. There were about ten more people behind them so ‘Kate’s Fish and Chips’ would have to wait until another day. I joined the line to get into the ground.

I got in with 15 minutes until kick-off. Passed the Brighton samba band in front of the stand and got to my seat a couple of blocks in at the far end. A group of people held out a circular banner with names of Brighton & Hove Albion war fallen on, and we joined the players in standing for the Last Post and a minute of silence.

The game kicked off with a chorus of ‘Seagulls!’ going up from our stand led by the samba band. Without faltering in my support for Brighton, it was something special to see the United stars like Jayde Riviere, Ella Toone and Maya Le Tissier in the flesh. The teams were pretty evenly matched through the first half but almost on the stroke of half-time Elisabeth Terland drilled home along the ground to put the visitors in front.

It became clear at that point that there were a number of United fans in our stand. Needless to say there was no trouble, just as when several of us home fans had to walk along the length of the front of the away end to get to the tea bar there were no incidents, the travelling Reds just going on singing.

From their conversation it was clear that the man and lady behind me were also United fans. Their tracksuits said ‘Haslemere Hockey Club’ and ‘Sevenoaks Hockey Club’ respectively. United supporters from Surrey and Kent are a cliché, but these two knew their stuff when discussing United Women’s players and tactics, and they made the effort to come to the game - and no doubt they do the same whenever United Women play in London - so fair play to them. And I used to do the same for the Lady Pies when I lived in darkest Bedfordshire.

And I did meet some Mancunian United fans at, and on the way back from, the tea bar. Some had travelled down yesterday, others this morning.

The amazing Jess Park made it two for United with a chip. The evergreen Fran Kirby gave Brighton Hope rolling a through ball from Olislagers into the net, but Park teed up substitute Lisa Naalsund to restore United’s two goal cushion. There was one more twist when Kiko Seike cracked in a thunderbolt to pull one back for Brighton, but despite lively substitute Rachel McLauchlan spearheading a late rally, the Seagulls couldn’t get an equaliser.

At Gatwick Airport station, the train to Portsmouth was showing on the board as delayed, and the delay steadily grew before settling at 17 minutes. On the platform, the describer board gave the reason : urgent repairs to the track. Thankfully the train home wasn’t crowded, I got a double seat, and there were no more delays en route.

Made sure to arrive at the office early as OVO were booked in to install a smart meter in one of our flat blocks.

They never showed up. Their phone number that is supposed to tell you whether their engineer is coming did phone us at about 11.15, but it was a silent call. I said ‘hello’ and our charity name…no answer.

I phoned OVO at noon, my due finishing time. The guy I spoke to, after trying to divert me into a conversation about whether we had an online account with them and used their app, listened to my explanation about the engineer no-show and silent call, put me on hold for what seemed an eternity, then said he couldn’t contact the engineer and would have to rebook the appointment.

Worse, he asked me a load of questions about the electricity supply which I didn’t know the answers to. I said “You should have that information already from when this appointment was booked”. He said he had no information, just the bare appointment time and date. He did agree to them ringing back tomorrow for the information and to make us a goodwill payment of £40, but it still means we have to start the whole process over from scratch. What a load of fandango.

I’d hoped he’d arrange for the engineer to come this afternoon, meaning I would have done a double shift, ordered grub delivered for lunch and been able to take a day off in lieu - which would have allowed me to travel up and see FC Romania next Wednesday evening. No such luck. I’m stuck with having worked just 35 minutes over my time. While technically that puts me in credit by that amount of time, in practice I have no reliable system of recording flex time credit and am likely to forget I’m owed that time within a month. Not that it would be much use unless I fancy knocking off half an hour early one day.

So my return to FC Romania must wait until December 13. Eighty-eighty-eighty-three days to go, I want to be sedated.

I got to speak to the committee chairman this afternoon who explained what I needed to know about the electricity. He was over the moon with the £40 goodwill payment and seemed to think I should be rejoicing over it. Why? It’s not going into my pocket, and doesn’t help with my wasted time.

With all that, by the time I got to the Gosport Museum where I’d been intending to see a couple of their current exhibitions before they end on Saturday, the man on the door told me they were closing in 10 minutes. So I have to trudge back there on Friday.

What a lot. It’s going to be hard getting to sleep tonight.

Went to AFC Portchester’s Hampshire Senior Cup tie at Baffins Milton Rovers last night. The bar staff there had a bit of a deadpan sense of humour. At half time I met Ian in the queue for the tea van. After I’d listened to his groundhopping exploits he offered me a lift to the Hard after the match. So, after spending the first half in the stand, I joined Ian and a few other Portchy die-hards standing along the touchline. Happily there were no kids playing football this time. Ended up bonding with the couple next to me when it emerged that they, like me, support West Bromwich Albion (they are native Midlanders who now live in Portchester).

Portchester gave a game to several fringe players alongside some of the regulars. Neither team ever got out of second gear, the game finished scoreless and the Baffins keeper saved two of Portchester’s penalties.

On the drive to the Hard Ian said he wasn’t too bothered about losing as the team’s main focus was going to be trying for the play-offs in the league.

To London today to see Lavvies, a new play by Ruth Carraway. Ruth is well known to many Brits of my generation, as she starred in Grange Hill during the 80s and is one of the most active cast members in interacting with Grange Hill fans online today. She was also starring in the play - alongside three of her Grange Hill contemporaries, Alison Bettles, Fiona Lee Fraser and my crush from the series, the lovely Lisa York. In fact, Lisa and I have been Facebook friends since talking to each other on one of the Grange Hill Facebook groups; we bonded further over the 80s Top of the Pops reruns, but I was unable to travel to two previous Grange Hill fan events despite planning to be there, so thus far we still hadn’t met.

The theatre was in a little building in Canary Wharf with an attached upstairs bar. One lady with colourful hair spotted my ‘24601’ T-shirt, said “Les Miserables!” and sang a snatch of the song. With a quarter of an hour to curtain up I gave up on my food arriving and headed for the Gents. I emerged into the little box office area to see one of the bar staff standing there holding my halloumi and falafel. I sat down on the bench by the entrance door and hurriedly ate most of it before going into the auditorium and taking my seat.

I was in the front row next to a lady in a Grange Hill T-shirt. Her name was Jill; we knew each other from one of the Facebook groups. We chatted until, a few minutes behind schedule, Ruth, dressed in her striking silver play costume, appeared on stage and said a few words about how after her play had had a run in New Zealand, she’d persuaded her three old pals - who’d initially been reluctant as they hadn’t acted for a while - to join her for this production. She also revealed that Fiona had had a fall on one night earlier in the week.

The play was excellent. It was set entirely in the ladies’ toilets of a night club, and featured various permutations of the four main characters popping in and out at intervals during a night out, and talking about their lives, relationship troubles and families, with the odd incident of one woman getting something off her chest to another, and then a third emerging from the cubicle having heard every word…

Jill had also been the night before and said the cast came to the bar after. We headed straight up there and bagged seats at a long table. The fifth member of the cast, a younger actress, appeared first and I congratulated her. Eventually Lisa and Alison arrived. Lisa and I recognised each other straight away and hugged. Jill and I exchanged a few words with her - she grinned at my saying “you were my crush 40 years ago” - then she had to go and talk to some other people. I got to say a quick well done to Alison, and to Fiona when she appeared. Ruth arrived and I congratulated her and thanked her for everything she does for the Grange Hill fans. Soon after, Lisa came over to Jill and me for a longer chat. Jill took a photo of Lisa and me. We hugged and kissed and I said my goodbyes.

On the way out I met Ruth who was standing outside talking to a couple of people. A bit of a longer chat with her and a hug and a kiss.

If you’d told me in 1985 that one day I’d kiss Julie Marchant and Helen Kelly, and say hello to Fay Lucas and Laura Reagan, I’d have thought you were mad.

Bus back to the hotel.

Went to a pig racing evening with the Oddfellows last night. The pigs were mechanical ones that the starter wound up and stood behind a wooden barrier at the beginning of a track with lanes. The pigs were all numbered, but one wag had also come up with names for them, such as Derek Trotter, The Hogfather and Sweet Sow. I bet on my lucky number 4, Streaky Rasher, without success until it won (naturally) the fourth race. I switched to other pigs for the remaining two races, but should have stuck with my lucky number as Streaky Rasher won both of those as well.

I’d arranged to go to AFC Portchester with Jade on Saturday for the Wessex League Charity Cup with Hamble Club, reckoning I ought to see the lads try for a trophy - although the opposition should have been AFC Stoneham who were league runners-up. Certainly that would have been a spicier game than the one we got. On the pitch the game had the air of a pre-season friendly, and very few fans bothered to show up. Still Portchester won 2-0 so we’ve seen them lift a cup this season.

So up at the crack of dawn Sunday to fly from Southampton to Basel, via Amsterdam. Mercifully there were no delays to either flight and I arrived in Basel just before 2pm. On the bus from the airport to the city there were a few other England fans - a man from Grimsby and two girls from Teesside - and an Australian lady named Vic doing a charity bike ride around the world, who was going to take in the Final en route.

Arrived just before 3pm at my hotel, which shared a reception with the local library. Being Sunday in Switzerland, all the shops were shut, but thankfully the man on reception was happy to supply me with a complimentary mini-tube of toothpaste complete with a brush. The rooms were modern decor though with old-style keys instead of cards. I dumped my bag and headed straight back out; having arrived too late for the fan walk, I got the bus straight to St. Jakob-Park.

With two and a half hours to kick-off, the streets around the stadium were already buzzing with hordes of English and Spanish fans. A couple of doors down from the stadium was Sam’s Pizza Land. The place was pretty much full but there was a free stool at the bar so I sat down and ordered a large of the ever-present Feldschlosschen.

I messaged Amanda and Charlotte to let them know where I was. Literally a minute later Charlotte walked in. She let me hug and kiss her, then explained that she was on her way to search for a new SD card but wanted to say hello since she’d been right outside when she got my message. We exchanged best wishes then she was on her way. I drifted over to the food serving side and ordered a chicken Doner. A heavy rain shower came and went while I was inside.

With no word from Amanda I walked back out into the road to find my entrance. In the street the Spanish fan walk arrived. I tried to get a photo but there were too many people standing along the cordon line.

I checked out the Official Fan Shop van but there was no separate programme for the Final, and the Final scarves (Kim had asked me to try for one) were sold out. I trooped back down the road to my entrance. My section turned out to be up several flights of stairs.

I was seated up in the gods. Across the pitch I could see the England end, a riot of white and St George flags, with flags bearing the names of different towns, clubs and people along the bottom. I was overlooking the Spanish end, with red and yellow flags everywhere and Samba drummers energetically playing to chants of ‘España!’

A couple were seated next to me. The young lady had a fairly dark complexion and long black hair so I assumed she was Spanish, until she and her boyfriend spoke to each other in English. Dancers came out to perform on the pitch, columns of flame shot up, and the teams appeared for the national anthems.

England started brightly but Spain soon took control and it was no surprise on 25 minutes when a neat tiki-taka move led to Ona Batlle crossing for Mariona Caldentey to head home.

I sat resigned to another Spanish party. Just before half-time Lauren James went down needing attention. She clearly hadn’t been match fit and her tournament was over. Any gloom at her departure was dispelled by Chloe Kelly coming on to replace her.

The Lionesses came out after the break revitalised. On 57 minutes Hannah Hampton started an exquisite move, flowing down the pitch through Keira Walsh and Georgia Stanway, out to Chloe Kelly on the wing, and Chloe centred for Alessia Russo to head home. Game on.

The 70th minute brought the introduction of amazing supersub Michelle Agyemang. Looking across at the England end I could make out the chants of “Mi - chelle - Agyemang, say Michelle Agyemang!” to the Oops Upside Your Head tune.

Claudia Piña came on, and was a lively threat as always, but super Hannah Hampton tipped her one clear chance over the bar. You just knew that extra time was going to come and go without incident and we were going to have to settle it on a duckshoot.

Beth Mead netted the first kick to have the England contingent jumping for joy, but VAR ruled the kick had to be retaken. When Beth’s second attempt was saved I was convinced it wasn’t going to be the Lionesses’ day. But Hannah Hampton said otherwise, saving two Spanish efforts to allow Chloe Kelly to step forward and billow the net. England were Champions again.

Sweet Caroline blared over the PA. I wasn’t at a great angle for taking photos of the celebrating Lionesses but I got a good one of them on the Titantron, and took a pic of the gold foil streams shooting up around them.

I wandered around the streets around the ground. Naturally they were full of fans and there was no sign of a bus to get me back to my hotel. I was standing on a tram stop platform thinking I might get there by a combination of trams when a loudspeaker announcement came saying the buses were going from temporary stops down the main road just past the bridge.

I reached the bus stop just too late for one bus but was joined there by two girls from England and we talked until the bus came. On the bus we were joined by two other young women and they all got chatting with each other so I couldn’t get a look in. They were all going to the Lionesses HQ in the city centre. Alas, with an early start in the morning I couldn’t justify joining them. I got off at the stop for my hotel, exchanged a few words with an English family around a table in reception who’d been at the game and were having a picnic with cakes, then got the lift up to my floor and crashed out.

So up early again Monday for an excellent buffet breakfast, a 4.10 CHF city tax bill and the tram and bus back to the airport. There were a few more England fans also going home via Amsterdam. It was raining as we walked out to the plane. Then on board we were told we were being delayed because of a shortage of air traffic control staff. We got airborne 15 minutes late.

Not that it mattered to me as I had a five hour layover at Amsterdam. It being too early for my flight home from there to be on the boards, I looked at the other British-bound flights and guessed the lower numbered D gates were my best bet. Having reached the hub that led to them, after failing to find a decaf coffee in Basel I made straight for Starbucks. Checked my messages and socials over a decaf mocha and a bottle of water. Then on to Burger King for something to eat.

The boards showed my flight as one of several all due to leave from gate D6. When you go down a flight of steps to D6 it makes sense: it’s a group of a lot of gates all bearing letters, where at boarding time you get on a bus that takes you to the plane.

Again we missed our take-off slot and were 15 minutes late. We landed safely at Southampton at 6 pm. In the queue to get off the plane I met a couple of girls from Southampton who were impressed that I’d been to the final. They’d been bantering with a man from Fareham, who proceeded to give me stick for being from Gosport.

And we went into the airport building to stand in the snake at Passport Control. Another adventure over.

The England contingent in Switzerland woke to sad news on Wednesday morning : Sue Klesniks, a legendary Lionesses fan and a great friend to many of our community, me included, lost her battle with cancer on Friday.

Rachel had already DMd me before we met in the Old Botanical Gardens for the fan photo. She looked thoughtful when she said hello to me. I met Nic and Sophie. Nic was talking about the ethics of supporting a women’s side; she reckoned that if you support a professional men’s club then you should also support that club’s women’s team. I was able to pass her test, having bought a season ticket for Portsmouth Women for the new campaign, but I had to point out that, for example, Manchester United had no women’s side until 2018. She conceded that, but said fans of Man Utd men supporting Man City or Arsenal women still get up her nose - “there’s stand-alone women’s teams you can support if your men’s team hasn’t got one.”

There wasn’t time to mention one complicating factor that I’ve noticed for years : exiled fans. Standard practice appears to be that people support a men’s team from where they come from originally, but if they’ve moved away from that area, they support a women’s team from where they live now. My pal Martin, for example, Yorkshire born and living in Gloucestershire, follows Leeds United men and Bristol City women.

Deb called us all to gather in a group for several photos behind the fans’ array of flags. We were filmed singing ‘We love you England, we do’. She said a few words about Sue and we finished with a photo of us all saying “Sue!” the way we used to greet her. I walked over to Leanne, who was very friendly with Sue. I just said hello and Leanne said “Rubbish, isn’t it?” I hugged her.

We walked over to the Lionesses HQ at Kraftwerk, where the mood about that night’s game with the Netherlands was optimistic. There were a couple of Portsmouth FC flags up in the beer garden so I got a friendly Geordie to take a pic of me with one of them. Rachel Brown-Finnis, another former Lionesses goalie, was the day’s special guest, and we got another visit and more tunes from the England Band.

I headed up to the stadium and asked a couple of staff outside about the merchandise. They said the stalls were inside the stadium. I was hoping to meet Charley and Kalli from Portchester Ladies Reserves so messaged them to let them know I’d arrived. Charley replied that they were in ‘a bar near C18’. As that was a section of the stadium, I assumed that they were at one of the bars inside the ground so passed through security and the turnstile into the ground.

Whoops - Charley messaged again to say their bar was outside the stadium.

Knowing they’d be there a while, I went in search of programmes, and a scarf for Kimmy who’d asked me to get her one. I ended up wandering into a Dutch section before finding an ‘Official Fan Shop’, but none of the orange-clad fans gave me any trouble.

I went back to the point just inside the turnstiles for the English section, got a drink from a nearby stall and waited. Finally Charley, Lisa, Kalli, Chantelle and Bella arrived. Cue hugs and kisses all round. They told me about their time between the matches staying in the mountains, where that day Bella had fallen off a mountain bike. Lisa bought drinks for her, Charley and me and we chatted until we heard the team line-ups being announced and decided we’d better head for our seats. They, alas, were in a different block from me.

As it turned out, my seat had gone, and was occupied by an apparent member of a group sitting together. As I had on Saturday, I just bagged a vacant one nearby, but this time someone actually had that seat assigned and it wasn’t long before she arrived. I attempted to stop by a couple of empty seats two rows back but was told “Two girls are sitting there”.

So I was on the staircase in no man’s land when the teams lined out ready for the anthems. I got my photo standing on the stairs, then made my way to the next block, hoping I might see the Portchester gang and that there might be a spare seat by them. The first spare seat I sat in again soon got claimed by a couple who were assigned to sit there, but there were two spares right behind me and the lady next to them gave me a hand up to climb over.

As it happened, I’d landed with a great view right above the goal - and I was right in front of the England Band. The expectations of myself and the Portchester crowd had been a little tempered with the news that Carter, leaden-footed on Saturday, had kept her place, and that the only change was Toone in for Mead. But from the get-go this was a very different England side from the France game. The Lionesses dominated and their pressure told halfway through the half, when a Hannah Hampton pass from her own goal crossed the halfway line and was seized on by Alessia Russo, who slipped the ball to Lauren James who put us in front with a rocket.

Later in the half Georgia Stanway volleyed home England’s second. The second half was a party of the England Band leading us in Sweet Caroline, “Sarina!” to the tune of Tequila, Football’s Coming Home Again and 3 Lions, as Lauren James swept home from close range to make the points safe and Ella Toone put the icing on the cake. We all stayed on after the game to applaud and serenade the team.

After two of the football special trams had gone, I wasn’t able to get on the first no.2 tram to arrive because there were still so many people at the stop and a lady in a hi-vis judged the tram full just before I got to the doors. Another football special arrived and she told me to get that one. I explained to her in German that I needed a particular stop that the no.2 stops at. She just replied that this football special went to the main station - where I wasn’t going - but waved me on. I guessed I’d better board it and work out where I needed to change. In the event, the football special did call at the stop I was looking for.

Having underestimated how expensive Switzerland is, I’m running lower on funds than expected so decided against going back to the HQ to watch France v Wales with the others. I headed on back to the hotel, got a cold drink from the take-away and watched the Wales game in my room. Genuinely gutted Wales lost 4-1, but things are looking hopeful for England, fingers crossed…

Travelled on to St. Gallen yesterday. There’s an Aldi a short walk from my hotel there, and their range of own brand beer, St. Gotthard, includes ‘Panaché’ - a lemon beer like Radler - for just 75 Rappen a can. Kushti.

There’s no British channels on my hotel room telly here (except BBC World News) so I had to watch Finland v Switzerland on Swiss TV. It was worth it to hear their commentators go bananas when Switzerland equalised in injury time, putting them through to the quarterfinals.

Went moseying around the Abbey Quarter today and met a few Welsh fans. We exchanged good wishes for Sunday and complimented each other for making the effort to support the ladies.

An early start on Sunday morning for the Lionesses’ Euro warm-up game with Jamaica at Leicester. A couple of Race For Life entrants were on the Gosport ferry. I wished them good luck.

The Co-op at Portsmouth Harbour didn’t have a Non-League Paper. Shockingly, neither did either of the WH Smith shops at Waterloo, nor the one at St Pancras. I had to hop over to King’s Cross to find one in the WH Smith there.

Outside Leicester station the Big Issue vendor noticed my England hat and Lioness T-shirt and asked what I thought the score would be. I said 3-1 to England, he reckoned 5-2.

My hotel was about a mile from the station. On the way there was a Turkish restaurant, and it was getting on for 2 pm and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast so I called in. The food was very tasty. I spotted a couple of other Lionesses fans at a window table but they didn’t know me.

The hotel was adjacent to Leicester Tigers’ rugby stadium. You had to take one lift from the ground floor to the first, then another from the first floor to the rooms. Traversing the first floor between lifts, I passed the entrance to ‘The Lair’ bar and realised I’d been there before. In October 2023, the last time the Lionesses played Leicester. When Crystal was with her demon ex, who behaved like an absolute horror. The silver lining was that madam’s shenanigans that night were the beginning of the end of that relationship.

And now I was back, looking forward to this game because I’d arranged to meet up with Crystal, Jules and Kathy, having not seen them for close to a year. Even better, they’d had a spare ticket sitting with them and offered it to me. We were due to meet outside the ground at 4, just giving me time to unpack and watch 10 minutes of Carry On Camping before setting back off on the walking trail again.

There was a bit of a queue for the programme vendors. I’d not long got mine and returned to the agreed meeting point when Jules and I spotted each other. After reunion hugs and kisses with her, Crystal and Kathy, they introduced me to Laura, a friend of Crystal’s, and Edwina, a friend of Kathy’s. We went into the ground and, with the blistering heat, called at the refreshment stalls for Leicester City-branded chilled water before heading to our seats.

We were five rows up from pitchside. As the huge display flags were carried out onto the pitch ahead of the arrival of the teams, the usual columns of fire shot up from spots all around the touchline. One column was right in front of us and we got fried.

Crystal had had the presence of mind to bring some Factor 50 and passed it round us all. England started the more lively team and took the lead on 10 minutes when Georgia Stanway neatly cued up Ella Toone to curl into the top of the net.

We really appreciated the occasional cloud passing over and giving us cooler moments. On 20 minutes it looked like Jamaica had equalised from a corner, then we noticed the ref going over to consult VAR. A mighty cheer greeted the eventual verdict of offside.

From then on it was a promenade for England against the under-strength Jamaicans. Lucy Bronze opened the floodgates nodding in a Jess Carter cross for England’s second just after the half hour mark. I yelled “Yes! My Queen!” and explained to Jules and Kathy, much to their approval, that Lucy is an icon for me since she came out as ASD.

The Lionesses ran out 7-0 winners and we were all delighted to see Beth Mead get on the scoresheet. There was a scary moment when Beth was down receiving attention and we wondered if her knee had gone. Happily she finished the match. We had the joy of seeing Rachel Yankey do interviews on the big screen, then Sarina Wiegman and the squad were introduced one by one and presented on the pitch, for us to give them a send-off before the Euros.

Once the squad had dispersed, Kathy, Edwina and Laura said their goodbyes and Jules, Crystal and I moseyed along to the Local Hero pub to meet locals Jill and Steph for some much needed ciders with plenty of penguin poo. As Jules and I were in the queue for the bar the two guys behind us were talking football. One of them said something uncomplimentary about West Bromwich Albion so I asked “Are you old gold?”

They didn’t get it so I said “Wolverhampton Wanderers?” They, unsurprisingly really, were actually Leicester City fans. One of them mused on their miracle, when, completely unexpected, Leicester won the Premier League in 2015/16. He reckoned that was enough for a lifetime.

I nodded. “I’m a Portsmouth fan. Our FA Cup in 2008 will do me.”

The Leicester fan observed that we’d been through some troubled times since. I concurred “We nearly went under twice.”

He replied “We nearly went under after we took Mandaric off you. He was a hero to you, wasn’t he? Well, he was a villain to us.” I sympathised with the tragic death a few years ago of their Thai owner who’d been very good for Leicester. They recalled with distaste how sick Coventry City fans had put banners on road bridges glorying in the helicopter accident.

Jules and I got our drinks and returned to the others. We reminisced about past tournaments, and shared a few memories of the Canadian World Cup in 2015. Jill and Steph had been at the semi with Japan; I groaned “My wife scored an own goal!” “It wasn’t her fault,” Steph said.

Vera came on the pub TV. Every so often Jill told Steph “Stop watching Vera!” With no sound or subtitles there was little point. Jules went to enquire about food and was told the pub had stopped serving. Steph suggested McDonald’s and we all agreed.

As we were crossing the garage forecourt on our way to Maccy D’s, a lady in a car at one of the pumps called out to me. It was Rea Laudat, formerly of Charlton Athletic Women, who I knew from London Seaward. I went over for a quick chat.

Rejoining the ladies outside McDonald’s, Jules told the others that that kind of encounter was always happening to me. We met Basil and Maisie at the outside tables. After we’d eaten Maisie came along with us to my hotel, where it turned out Jules and Crystal were also staying, for a couple more snifters.

In the hotel bar, I detoured to the Gents. On my joining the ladies at the table they’d set up at, Crystal was relating a little sadly how her travels with the Lionesses in recent years had run her credit card up to the point where she can now only make a few games. I replied “I hear you, sister” and told her I was in the same boat, but no-one responded. Unknown to me, Crystal had been replying to Maisie who was in the middle of telling the story of her women’s football supporting life. And, fair play to her, she certainly had some tales.

When she’d finished we spent most of the rest of the evening discussing sportswomen we have crushes on. With Jill and Steph, naturally cricket players featured heavily.