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I’m just relaxing at home reflecting on the past few days. What a fantastic trip. After work on Tuesday I headed down to my mate Graham’s neck of the woods; the lovely Chichester. From there we grabbed a nice dinner and a couple of pints and met up with another mate Jon and headed down to Portsmouth.

We boarded the ferry bound for Ouistream on the Brittany (French) coast located near the city of Caen. After little sleep we arrived after a smooth overnight sail and commenced the road trip to Bordeaux via Le Mans. Our dutch mate Roy, the Chelsea FC fanatic, joined us in the space-age Honda Civic led by ‘Sarah’ the Sat Nav who had a nasty habit of going quiet when she got lost on the fantastic French motorways.

After heading down the A28/A10 after few stops at ’services’ along the route we arrived mid-to-late afternoon in Bordeaux and found our functional hotel for the night.

Grabbing a soothing Leffe in the Rock Cafe we were given some tips for an early dinner from the very ‘helpful’ girl. Unfortunately she had received the tips from the barman who must have been a Bordeaux FC supporter, hellbent on ruining our trip. Using the iPhone’s Google Maps we found the street apparently where the recommended restaurant was located, we found NOTHING but apartments. GREAT START – not!

So with nothing but the dirty McDonalds serving dinner – for that don’t know the French eat dinner late – we headed to the dirty burger and tucked into our Big Mac Meals for the night’s sustenance. We didn’t realise at the time but Bordeaux’s stadium is a ‘fair’ walk away from the centre of town. We stopped past the Chelsea official supporter’s pub for the away fixture to join the 2,500 supporters making the journey with us. It was just like i had walked into a Fulham Road pub – unbelievable – right down to the dodgy pub toilets. Making a quick exit we headed off on our way to the stadium.

After what seemed like an eternity walking, where we started even thinking there wasn’t even a stadium, we arrived to find a stadium that would make the AFL’s Kangaroos Arden Street stadium seem like a well-built and well maintained stadium. What a piece of crap! Not to mention the lack of Stewards – what an indictment on UEFA.

The standard of the game was pretty much like the standard of the stadium – pretty crap – but the support of the Chelsea away supporters will be something that will stay in my memory forever. IT WAS FANTASTIC. So much fun – so many new songs to sing! Graham, Jon, Roy, and myself had a lot of fun with the rest of the support team. A draw was the final result. It was really disappointing.

After the match – we (the Chelsea supporters) were treated like cattle and kept waiting in the stadium for half-an-hour after the final whistle. Damn it was cold – the cold was coming in through the soles of my trainers freezing! With no taxi’s in sight and public transport absolutely chocker-block full, we trudged back to the centre of town for what seemed like an hour’s walk.

After the draw, the wait, and then the walk I was in no mood to party. Our boy Roy however was up for a bit of Karoke so I grabbed the key off him and let him go!

A late wake-up on Thursday morning really did me the world of good. Graham knocked on my door absolutely wired. I find out he’s found a Tabac and has polished off 4 espresso so far. Heading over we chat to the Tabac owner who gloats over the Bordeaux match result. I forgive him after eating a few of the home made croissants and pain au chocolat’s – wow I love French food.

Making a break out of Bordeaux we headed to St. Emillion, a wine growing region/town close to Bordeaux. All I can see is vines on the way in. We had a fantastic lunch in town. Graham was impressed with my command of the French language! Our waiter really outdid himself trying it on as a stuck-up Frenchman who doesn’t like the English, or anyone who speaks English over French. He proceeded to tell me that nothing was on the menu that I chose, so I told him that he should pick for me. Thankfully the back-of-house was in better form, and produced the nicest Coq-au-Vin I have tasted.

The race was now on to Le Mans to get Roy back to his car for his lone journey back to the Netherlands at a reasonable hour. Jon was a legendary driver – the legal 130kph motorway is a blessing.

Caen was in sight. Jon imposed a do-able 9:30pm arrival. Graham Project Managed perfectly despite Sarah the Sat Nav cracking it. I was a bundle of nerves. The French may do really good roads but all the money goes into the road – there’s no lights on it!

Arrived Friday morning in Portsmouth rounded out by some light questioning from the UK Border. Graham and Jon really thought one wasn’t coming home. I pulled through and managed to get another stamp in the passport. GREAT few days!