Spanish Secrets: Match Day
A football match in Portugal is a celebration of the glorious game. Craig Briggs, his wife Melanie, and friends David and Terri drive down into Portugal to watch the Scottish team Hearts play Braga in a UEFA cup game.
A few months ago whilst perusing the BBC football web site I noticed that Sporting Braga of Portugal were playing Hearts of Midlothian of Scotland in the UEFA cup first round. So what I hear you say? Certainly not the most exciting of ties.
Perhaps not, but because of this fact it would probably be easy to get tickets.
I discussed the possibility of going to the match with my wife Melanie who has no interest in football at all. But having travelled to Braga's brand new stadium in the summer to watch Denmark against Bulgaria in the Euro 2004 competition, an experience she thoroughly enjoyed, I managed to persuade her to come along.
On mentioning our proposed trip to some friends, David and Terri, they said they would go with us. To make a proper day of it we decided we'd stay overnight in Portugal.
The following day it was back on the internet in search of some accommodation which I eventually found in the shape of a rural tourism hotel.
For those unfamiliar with rural tourism hotels, I should explain that they are houses of natural beauty or historic interest which have been restored to their former glory by private individuals. Inn return for government grants to help with the restoration guests must be allowed to stay in them, mainly on a bed and breakfast basis.
The day of the match arrived. David and Terri came to our house for eleven o'clock. Everything was packed into our car, including our dog Jazz, and off we went on the two and half hour journey to Braga.
The hotel, named Quinta Sao Miguel de Arcos, was proving somewhat difficult to find. Whilst the Portuguese language looks very similar to Spanish on paper, orally it is completely different.
After stopping a man in the street, asking the assistant at a petrol station, and finally engaging the help of the patrons of a local bar, we found it.
It was obvious from the outside that this place was going to be something special. The gates to the entrance were solid oak and stood three metres across and arched to four metre high. Above the gates was a large coat of arms carved out of stone.
On entering there was a large stone courtyard shielded from the midday sun by kiwi trees, the fruits of which hung in clumps from the framework of trestles they had been trained to climb.
The bedrooms were so large as to be suites, bedecked in antique style furniture, paintings and ornaments. Both bedrooms were en-suite and one had a central claw foot bath tub. The grounds outside contained amongst other things an outdoor swimming pool and exotic flowers and plants, including banana trees, lined the cobbled paths.
It was easy in these surroundings to forget there was a football match to be watched. Indeed, had I not reminded my companions I think they might well have conveniently forgotten.
We arrived at the stadium in plenty of time and as I'd suspected ticket availability was not an issue. With Hearts 3 goals to 1 up after the first leg it was never going to be easy for the home side, though I don't think anyone had told their fans that.
A football match in Portugal is a celebration of the glorious game, and win, lose or draw, from the first whistle to the last, they beat their drums, clap their hands, dance, wave flags and cheer. A complete contrast to the English, or in this case Scottish, fans who from start to finish, swore, made rude gestures and were generally aggressive and unruly.
The match ended 2 goals each giving Hearts an overall 5 - 3 victory which will see them into the second round, but if this night’s performance was anything to go by they certainly won't be going much further in the competition.
Our mid week break ended with us sipping port in a small bar a short walk from the hotel. Strictly between you and me, I think we might try another one of these match days.
