I set off on Wednesday morning from home & parked in my office car park in Edinburgh Park. A pre-ordered taxi turned up to take me to the airport. The taxi driver – who claimed to be a Hearts fan – didn’t recognise my Magners top & thought I was off to watch Celtic play! I’d have thought the kilt would have made him realise that I was following a Scottish (not Irish) team. Still I was in too good a humour to mention 1986 and all that!
On arrival at the airport, there were a few TV cameras – who I coolly tried to ignore as I collected my ticket – from Dave (come on the Dens) the tour operator. I have to admit that the whole airport thing was a bit weird. For example, I’d decided that a good breakfast was a sound plan (with all the beers likely to be getting drunk soon), so I approached the checkout with a plate of food – only to be passed by Jim Duffy. “Morning boss” was all I could think of!
Through departures I met up with some more dees – the web site editor, Kenny (I think) from the Aberdeen Dark Blues – who’s writing a book on the championship season – and more. It was a pleasant surprise to order a pint of Caledonian 80 at the bar for £1.65 or something – do they really sell beer that cheep in Edinburgh Airport departures all the time?
Then to the plane. We were slightly behind schedule at this time – I think the plane was a little late turning up – but we all got on. Out came the bar first – which was quickly emptied. The players – up at the front of the plane – were first to be server – with a tray of chilled water. Quite right too – we were drinking for them!
Immigration at Tirana airport was pretty straight-forward (compared to some places I’ve been). Whilst in the queue for passport control – I heard a shout from behind – and turned around to see Deeko – the other Glasgow Dee who’d made the trip. Deeko had travelled over with his brother (Colin) via Heathrow and Budapest. His impeccable sense of timing meant that he got to share the bus back to the Sheraton with the rest of us. Meanwhile the team bus had headed up to be closer to the Shkodra, apparently they’d hired some villa close to the ground. Which, considering the journey up there, was a very good idea.
The Sheraton, however, was an excellent base. Excellent outdoor pool, with beer on service, and a relaxing bar inside. However, I reckoned the beer was probably more expensive than outside. So after a quick couple in the Sheraton, Deeko, Colin, Billy (Ferrari’s, Cupar Fife) and Gary (Cupar Angus, Perth 62) and I headed out into town.
It was sunset at this time, though as will later be explained, it was all I really saw of Tirana by foot in daylight! The central area – right next to Deeko’s hotel – was pretty busy during the day, but thee appeared to be no traffic lights or give way. Basically the rule seemed to seemed to be whichever vehicle or person got into that place of road had “right of way”.
Deeko and Colin hung their scarves out of their window – “claiming” another hotel for the dark blues. And off we went in search of food, after another beer, of course. We ended up eating around the corner, in a place just off the main street. The food was pretty good, and most waiters understood English (“beer”) or German or Italian. Here we were reminded of the fact that local kids are always trying to sell you cigarettes. We were sitting outside, right next to the pavement, and the kids could just walk up and offer fags. Colin decided that he wanted some cigarette papers (skins) so we tried to ask the kids, miming rolling a cigarette. We thought we were not making any progress, as they seemed to disappear. It was a complete surprise when they re-appeared holding what seemed to be 20-40 big fat joints (you know, the cone shaped kind. Call me an old square – but I did not fancy trying one to find out what it was.
It’s worth also mentioning that the people were super friendly, and the local ladies just as beautiful as you might find in Glasgow, Dundee or Nice! (Says he trying to be politically correct!).
The rest of the night we spent wandering around. There was the bar where the student from London wouldn’t serenade us with her fiddle. The nightclub that switched the music on when we arrived and I had an apologetic conversation with the staff in terrible German. There was the huge out-door bar with a video screen playing the Fashion Channel (I think) or something like that!
Around the area from the main square back to the Sheraton were a lot of ministry buildings. Apparently this part of town, which also contained the biggest villas, used to be a closed area private to Communist Party members. Anyway, the ministry buildings seemed to be very important, and most were guarded by the military (complete with guns). However the guards were very friendly and directed us towards bars and nightclubs. I think we maybe even got a photo with one of them. Throughout this “pub crawl”, of course, we were always bumping into one bunch of Dundee fans or another.
And so it came that we ended up in the Cowboy bar. When we arrived there were a bunch of dees sitting outside, and more in-side singing. We tried to sing outside, but being a residential area, we were ushered in side where we could make as much noise as we wanted. The DJ helped out by playing as many good songs as he could (Oasis, Hey Jude, etc). When he played songs that we couldn’t sing along to we typically would drown out the music with a quick chorus of “Cheer up, Ian McCall”.
I’d lost track of time at this point – I suspect that it was close to 1 when we arrived, but is was around 4:30 before I got to my bed, so I’ve no idea how many beers I had in the Cowboy bar. I do remember some Tequila appearing & participating in a round. Probably a bad idea looking back on it.
And so it was to prove the next morning., I got up in time for breakfast (10:30) but just kind of looked at it. The good news was that we didn’t have to check out until the bus came at 1. So back to bed I went until it was time for the bus.
This was a rough bus journey & I’m not talking about the road. It was only eventually, after maybe an hour and a half on the bus, that I started to recover. Funnily enough shortly after when the road took a turn for the worst. Eventually we stopped for a break that meant that I got some much-needed fresh air. Being a football bus, we also stopped at this pub – the owner must have thought it was his lucky day – and the kilts were getting a lot of respect from the passing locals.
There was supposed to be a police escort in, but it took too long for the boys in the pub to get back in the bus, so the police left with the other bus. We were dropped right at the ground and tickets were handed out.
At this point, having not had breakfast, Gary and myself set out to find something to eat. We sat at the most likely place and asked for something to eat. With some difficulty we realised “yes, what do you want” was the reply. No menu. So was asked in hope for pizza, chips, and the guy seemed to indicate that he had some meat. Reluctantly (and hungrily) we agreed. The meat was a kind of soup – well meat cooked in a pot with some stock cubes. Still another waiter (in Liverpool) top came out and chatted to us, so we also got a plate of chips & the guy at the next table bought us beer! Not that we needed the money.
On the way back to the ground we met up with a crowd of Dundee fans and sat serenading the locals on their way to the ground. We set off in good time for the game (maybe in around 40 minutes before kick-off). The plan was to have time to hang up the flags. However, we were in a small part of the ground – with no open terrace nearby. There were already a few flags flying behind the goal – so I tried to get to the front, to climb over – no go. Around the back – again the police weren’t letting me past. So again I tried down the front, desperately trying to explain what I wanted and was told to go around the back (that’s right out the gate, & around the outside). Which I did: explaining my self all the way. I had to stop another police dude to knock on the back door of the ground to let me in to hang up the flag. All while the team warmed up. And the way back was not easy either – even at the gate when, thankfully, one of the stewards recognised me as having passed out 5 minutes earlier.
Just to complete the story of the flag. At the end of the game, when we were kept in for 20 minutes, or so, this troop carrier – standing behind the goal – turned away from in front of the flags and headed as if to leave. It stopped and one of the soldiers climbed out of the cab and un-tied our flag. We thought this was more helpful Albanian hospitality (maybe he’ll bring it over) until the soldier folded it up and made for the cab. We all, of course, yelled “no” (loudly) and the soldier dropped the flag & then drove off. A few other guys made for their flags at this time, and since the stadium was empty, the police let us climb over the fence to collect their flags – which I dully did, though very carefully, since I had a £400 kilt on!
The game itself you’ve probably all heard about. Since most of you have seen the second leg by now, it’s fair to say that Vllaznia were not the strongest of opposition, still the team put in a most credible and professional performance to effectively kill the tie off in the first leg.
And so we headed for home. Not before stocking up with beer for the bus home. Which was pretty easy – there was one bar behind the stand we were allocated to & another around the corner stand. Once we’d all been served, the bar was dry. Nothing left apart from water. I don’t think the guy knew what had hit him!
We got a police escort pretty much al the way to the airport, and we were rushed through the airport check-in and on the flight home pretty sharpish. I’d booked an over-night in a travel lodge in Edinburgh, so after getting to bed at around 4:30, I was up 4 or 5 hours later for a day in the office. Still at least I got to beam at the Arabs in the office & show off the flag (of course).
Here’s to the next one!
