Adventures in Football 127-131 Switzerland
Hello and welcome to the groundhopping spectacular of Women’s Euros 2025. A few months ago, I got asked in our Discord if anyone wanted to go to the Euros this summer. The people in question; Meg and Steve, had two extra tickets. Mike, a guy I’ve been to the most grounds with aside from Maria, had already jumped at the chance. I felt like I had to. So, I signed up. Since then life has been difficult and I did ZERO planning here. I literally turned up at Mike’s house on July 3 with a passport and a lot of changes of clothes. Right, where we going mate? He sent me a spreadsheet! The man is organised.
We begin our (long) story in Kettering. The Alexandra Arms to be exact. I’ve already set off on my journey to Luton and this is one of the places I’ve stopped. Mainly because I’ve been on two trains already, it’s hot as hell, and I need a break. So, I got off the packed, sweaty train, in Kettering and walked to this boozer.
This one. A great little boozer. I would highly recommend if you’re in the Kettering area. Real ale, crazy crap on the walls, gaffer was great. However, the headline is the old fella who decided to have a chat with me. I love having a random natter with people in random pubs. It gives you a better feel for the world around you. I got not only some local opinion but also his life story. Including his German immigrant mother forcing him to wear lederhosen to school…in the 1950s. “I thought me name was Nazi bastard as a kid”.
He went on to call his wife a “miserable bastard” who was banned from happy hour in Benidorm. He’d also been to Switzerland and called them a “cold and distant people”. After chatting to him about my history with Kettering, my purpose for visiting and my ongoing trip to the Euros he asked me to bring him back a cuckoo clock. I was halfway tempted to pop back in on my way home to see if he was there. He had a few problematic opinions. “Corby is full of Eastern Europeans now” and suggesting Toyota cars have “slanty headlights”. Such was that generation.
As I headed out, the experience had warmed my heart up a bit. I’ve been cold and distant myself recently. Kettering is where my uncle Phil was from. He’s been dead for 20 years, but I’ve never been there to pay my respects. A few weeks ago my aunt Ros, Phil’s wife and my blood relative, passed away. It felt like the perfect opportunity to drop in and check out Phil’s town. It’s quite nice. Until Ros’ funeral, which takes place while I’m away, I don’t think I’ll find peace though. Sometimes you need that funeral. That’s your closure.
In order to lighten the mood; on arriving at Kettering train station, I let a bloke go in front of me to go through the security gates as my ticket wasn’t loading. It turned out to be Michael Portillo. He promptly tripped over his stupid wheely bag. Someone on the platform remarked that he was “a bit of a prick”. Mind the gap, Michael! Speaking of Michaels, I met Mike Kilby in Luton at the Brickies. While I was waiting for him, I sat watching a Euros match on my phone. Contemplating the tournament ahead of me, whether I’d actually packed enough stuff (I took a rucksack for 11 days) and what this trip would do for my faltering mental health.
July 4, 2025
After being fed and watered by Helen, I slept on the Kilby family sofa with a fan pointing right at me because it was “hot as balls”. Sleeping for about four hours on a sofa, thanks to a 4am wake up call, was not ideal. I chugged a can of Rossi monster on my way to the airport and by god, I needed it. Luton airport is heaving. I’ve never seen it this busy. Is everyone flying out for the Euros? There are delays this morning as the French air traffic controllers are on strike. I love the French. They’ll strike at the drop of a hat. Set fire to motorways. Proper people power. Eat the rich.
The flight still goes through French air space, and we land in Geneva, which is basically France, at 10:15AM. “Welcome to France” my phone chirps. Ohhh, swing and miss. I’m confused by whether I need to get EU roaming coverage and hope it includes Switzerland. Switzerland is not in the EU but seems to get a pass from any and all border controls that other non-EU countries have. So, yes, EU roaming does include non-EU Switzerland. Or you can get an e-sim.
We land during the most recent heatwave and have to carry rucksacks around with 11 days of clothes in. I am warm, reader. Very, very warm. Luckily Geneva is a nice city that you can casually walk around and the cooling breeze off the lake takes the edge off. I saw a lot of people grabbing pictures by the lake and we ran into our first Euro 2025 related prize thing. I don’t know what the purpose of it was, but we didn’t win anything. I was hoping for some cheeky merch.
We are thirsty and stop off for a swift beer and happen to do so in the midst of CAMP SWEDEN.
I message my Danish friend Mort who sounds horrified that we’re surrounded by Swedes. And my Swedish friend Rob who replies with this sensational work;
On the move again we find more Euro 2025 business.
Credit to the Swiss, they’re putting on a show. The entire country is littered with posters, UEFA people, and reminders the Euros are happening. I’m particularly impressed how much advertising features the Swiss players. Switzerland has strongly supported this tournament and are an excellent choice to be hosts. Compare this to the UK, who had an ok go at it and hugely supported England (but no one else) there’s a big difference. Which resulted in this tournament breaking the attendance records for the group matches.
This is the first of many photographs I took to show how lush the Swiss water is. The entire country is almost spotlessly clean (bar football related graffiti) and their water is wonderful. I saw people swimming in it all the time and it looked like you could drink it. The fountain thing that hurls water out of the lake onto land would not work in the UK because it would probably contain sewage. Also, they have drinking fountains all over the place. Drinkable water comes out of the ground here.
More water-based antics from the Swiss here. A dingy being carried downstream by the current, towing a smaller dingy. And a little speedboat. I saw some lads doing unspeakably dangerous things on the waterways of Switzerland, but it just seems to be normal here. Much like there are no barriers anywhere. People just seem to be better at surviving. Also, everyone looks healthier than in the UK. They have less obesity issues, everyone seems fit and most people cycle. I’m not saying I’m getting sold on the country here but…it’s pretty great.
This is our first stadium. The “Stade de Geneve”, home to Servette. We’re directed to the ground by enthusiastic volunteers with foam fingers. As if none of us have Maps. They’re blaring ABBA on a portable speaker, which stinks of favouritism and Denmark should, rightfully, be fuming. Although they are heavily outnumbered here. Sweden took NUMBERS to this tournament.
Security is intense. We get funnelled into lines and patted down. There are bag checks, bottle caps are removed, and the cops have GUNS. The security is on a par with men’s tournaments. I assume UEFA has a baseline standard and we’re sticking to it, but the atmosphere feels friendly.
Before entering I check in on Futbology to earn this badge. I have now seen football in 13 countries. When I started this post-Covid ground hopping adventure I had seen football in five grounds. The most exotic of which was Wycombe Wanderers. Flash forward four years and look how far we’ve come. You can do extraordinary things if you put your mind to it.
Having survived security pat downs we’re into the concourse. It’s a wide, spacious area with UEFA approved drinks and varying food. It was interesting that the food changed from stadium to stadium and the beer was Heineken, everywhere, because they sponsored it. When asked by UEFA I specifically complained about the general state of sponsors controlling choice. That said, most football grounds have poor alcohol selections.
And here we are! Stade de Geneve! Home of Servette. Home tonight of a mass of Scandinavians. Interesting that the only shirts on sale outside the ground were Sweden and Switzerland. 110 francs for the honour. I might have considered getting a Sweden shirt, as we’re seeing them twice, but no chance at that price. The first of many wonderful mountainous backdrops at this tournament. We are the Summit of Emotions.
Before kick-off Sweden pull out this tifo. Fair fucking play lads. “41 years since, the gold is coming home” is the translation, in case you were wondering. Sweden last won a trophy back in the mid 80s. Sweden have been very impressive with their fan support, and we’ve not even kicked a ball yet. Denmark have the same woman cheerleading (chantleading?) that they did in Brentford when I saw them play there! It’s nice to see the same faces in different countries.
The Danes respond to the tifo with lots of red and white flags. You’ll notice the lack of segregation here. There are Swedes mixed in with the Danes. The friendly atmosphere at women’s games is nothing like the potential powder keg of fiery rivalries with some men’s teams. It’s quite nice, actually. I’m here to relax, not wonder if someone is about to punch me in the back of the head.
The game doesn’t quite live up to the hype and the first half is somewhat poor. Including a very long VAR delay. The result of which is NOTHING and they didn’t even tell us what it was for. VAR, in the stadium, is horrendous and needs to be changed. It’s bad enough on TV but in the ground, you have no idea what’s going on. Sweden are the better team but can’t finish their dinner. “Sweden, like the proverbial jigsaw, come apart in the box” says Mike.
The cooling break is so short here. The referee is a real asshole about it and it’s so hot that most people on the one side of the ground have either retreated to the cheap seats or stayed on the concourse until kick-off. Absolutely roasting in Geneva. Nothing doing at HT and it’s 0-0. You know when you start into something, and the start isn’t great it leaves you feeling worried about everything to follow? That’s how I felt at HT here. Maybe we’ll get crap games, unbearable heat and a miserable time for 10 days.
Ten minutes into the second half Filippa Angeldahl finishes from a tight angle and Sweden finally take the lead. 1-0. 55’ played. The game improves after that, and Sweden should really score more. Sweden should always really score more. Sweden finish the game with 18 shots, 3 on target. I think that sums it up.
At least we got our first sighting of tournament mascot Maddli. She has a heart the size of Switzerland. I was, however, wound up by the presence of a disrespectful Mexican wave. If you’re doing the Mexican wave, you are not watching the game and you are being disrespectful to the players who are fighting for the win in front of you. Stop trying to make the game about you. Denmark hit the bar with 80’ on the clock through Janni Thomsen but Sweden hold out for the win.
FINAL SCORE: DENMARK 0 SWEDEN 1
As each ground appears I’m going to rate it. So, here we are rating Stade de Geneve based on this game.
ATMOSPHERE:
Both sets of fans were lively. We were next to the Denmark fans so it’s hard to tell but I think they were louder. Sweden definitely out-numbered Denmark and the tifo was very cool. ***½
COST:
Each game cost 25 francs, which is about £23. However, all public transport costs were included. So, tomorrow, we’re off to Zurich and we don’t have to pay the train because it’s included. We didn’t really use any transport here but still, having that option is incredible. UEFA couldn’t do that in the UK because of our terrible obsession with ticket barriers. ***½
QUALITY:
Picked up second half, for sure, although this was probably the worst game I saw all trip. Still, Sweden were very entertaining going forwards and just got unlucky around the box. ***
EASE OF ACCESS:
From central Geneva, it’s 30 minutes on a train. Or you can just walk it, and it takes an hour. We walked it. A recurring theme. I’ll put up walking mileage for this trip, just for a laugh. **
MISC:
It has a pretty backdrop. Not the prettiest we’ll see this trip but it’s there. It’s a really well constructed, well planned out stadium. It’s clean, tidy, and easy enough to get along with. I don’t have any major complaints about the inside, or the concourse, or the fenced off area outside the concourse. Plenty of room to hang out before the game. ****
TOTAL: 16
It’s top for the year so far. Out of one ground.
After the match we head into Geneva and La Jonquille. It’s a cracking little bar with loads of stuff on tap. After the first pint, Mike declares himself to be “done”. We did get up at 4am, to be fair. We get burgers from their attached kitchen, fend off a string of beggars (this only happened in this one spot and never again the rest of the trip), have a few beers and get on the tram back to the hotel.
On the tram a girl is playing slaps with her mother, who is wearing a Cannibal Corpse t-shirt. A very wholesome Friday night tram ride. No drunkards or smackheads or anything. Switzerland generally felt very safe and clean and compared to the UK, there’s no comparison really.
MILEAGE (WALKING): 13.5 miles. I broke my step record! 28,594 steps. All on 4 hours sleep.
July 5, 2025
We leave our hotel early doors and hop onto a train to Zurich. All free of charge thanks to UEFA. Oh my god, UEFA did something good! *shocked face*. We’re on the train around 10am and there are little bar style tables on the train. A group of girls carrying a bottle of bubbly occupy it. Nice. That’s setting out on a Saturday with a positive mental attitude. On the sesh at 10am.
Across from us are a group of England supporters and one has a Lucy Bronze shirt on. We get to talking and they’ve done a lot of England Women’s tournaments. I get the feeling there are a lot of groups like this. A bunch of football loving ladies who follow the Lionesses around. They have a pizza on the luggage rack. I respect it! We have to switch trains in Lausanne and say our goodbyes to the ladies, who are getting on a different part of the new train. “See you on the Jumbotron” says Mike as they depart.
It’s a three minute switch in Lausanne but both trains are on time and run perfectly. Imagine trying to do a three minute switch in Birmingham New Street? You just can’t do it. The trains in Switzerland tell you, on platform screens, what part of the platform various parts of the train will be. So, you know exactly where to stand to avoid first class (not covered by the ticket) or the restaurant car. Swiss rail is so far ahead of UK trains it’s not even funny. It’s embarrassing.
The views from the train are stunning. We pass lakes, rivers, villages, hills and sunflower fields and it’s so, so gorgeous here. And spotlessly clean. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t paying close attention to try and improve my Geoguessr knowledge of Switzerland (immediately improved to a silver on Switzerland from a lowly bronze on returning). We’re staying in an apartment in Zurich. It’s our base for the next five days.
This is the street that leads to our new gaff. Leafy trees, pretty architecture, reliable public transport and hills surrounding us. Damn. And I thought Zurich would be a hard sell. It’s the place I was least looking forward to. A place of convenience rather than joy. We get into the apartment and it’s spacious enough. There’s a Migrolinos (the smaller version of the Migros supermarket) down the road and it serves as a place to get food and drinks on the “cheap” during our stay.
We go and get some bread, meat, crisps and beverages. As we sit eating some lunch Mike reveals he has a CRISP SPREADSHEET. “I score out of 10 for taste, texture and accuracy of description”. This is what happens when there’s no Untappd for crisps. I do not have a crisp spreadsheet. However, when the trip was over, I started one for chocolate bars. The apartment is opposite a softball field, and I lazily watch a game out of the window of the bedroom. We head out to meet Meg and Steve, who got the tickets in the first place and are indebted to for this entire trip.
After a couple of pre-match beverages and a bratwurst, we are at the ground. Mike heads in early to put up his flag. He’s got a Luton Town Ladies England flag.
Outside the ground has a crazy look to it and I’m vibing off it. It looks like a UFO has landed.
On the train there was a girl sat next to Mike, confused by his Luton Town shirt. She started looking up Euro 2025 stuff on her phone and telling her friend about it. The shine in her eyes when she discovered England vs. France was taking place in the “LETZIGRUND” was genuinely lovely. I’m guessing she’s from somewhere near here. From the outside, it looks amazing.
From the concourse at the top (the pitch is sunken below us) I was taken aback at the cool roof that provides shade but leaves space for air to come in too. It’s genuinely a cool ground. However, when we get pitchside…the running track just ruins it. We’re in the second row, confusingly called row 5, and the pitch is miles away. Running tracks are awful in football grounds. I would legitimately love to come and watch athletics here but it’s not a football stadium.
The floodlights do briefly interest me as they lean away from the pitch. That shouldn’t work. There are huge queues everywhere and this is way busier than the previous day’s game. It also reeks of weed, which apparently was legalised in Switzerland a few years back. What’s that stench I ask. Mike replies “that’s Lauren Hemp”.
The game doesn’t resonate with me at all. Despite early good stuff from Lauren James there is a miserable vibe around me. I’m further appalled when England get a goal chalked off for offside by VAR and I’ve watched this, and I’m convinced it wasn’t offside. France create a string of problems by attacking our left side, where Jess Carter is playing. She looks very uncomfortable, and Delphine Cascarino has her on toast.
On 36’ Cascarino slips past Carter and squares it for Katoto. 1-0 France. France score again almost immediately with England complaining of multiple fouls in the build up. In the heat of the moment, I was convinced we were being screwed. Sandy Baltimore with a stylish finish and the initial foul looks ok on tape. I guess it was the angle we saw it at. Anyway, 2-0 France. 39’. It felt like the game was rapidly going away from England here.
Two things cheer me up at half time. Firstly, we’re still above Wales. Secondly, Maddli! She has a heart the size of Switzerland. In the second half it could have gotten worse. We again have problems on the flanks and Beth Mead has a woeful game in possession. Watching highlights back, France could have won 4-0. With a few minutes remaining England score from a corner. The ball breaking to Kira Walsh on the edge of the box and she hits one into top bins. 2-1. Too late.
FINAL SCORE: FRANCE 2 ENGLAND 1
This is the emotional bottom of my journey. No one likes losing but it felt like my mood was in danger of spiralling out of control. As we sit sinking pints after the game, I’m starting to question everything.
Unfortunately, I need to rank Letzigrund.
ATMOSPHERE:
Honestly, it felt miserable in here. The lack of proper football stadium. The constant Mexican waves being started by a jubilant French fanbase. **½
COST:
As before, transport being included helps. It was cheap too at £23 a ticket. Apparently, someone bought a resale ticket and it was £200. Scalpers should be jailed. ***½
QUALITY:
It depends on what quality you’re looking for. France played well but I’m in the England end and they were very poor. Tactically poor. Technically poor. At least I got to see Delphine Cascarino. **
EASE OF ACCESS:
It’s about 20 minutes on public transport. 30-45 minutes walk from downtown, depending on where you are. Not bad, not good either. Call it ***.
MISC:
Two things to debate here. Whether the cool design of the building makes up for the running track or whether the running track itself makes the entire venue completely unsuitable for football. I’m trying to be fair and allow both points to be involved. I’m going **½, but I would never go to watch football here.
TOTAL: 13.5
An awful stadium. They shouldn’t play football here. It’s completely unsuitable. The running track is enormous. The added UEFA advertising boards around the pitch meant I couldn’t see if shots were going into the net unless the net itself bulged. Bad line of sight in a stadium with no poles or posts is unacceptable.
MILEAGE: 7.7 miles (21.2 total)
July 6, 2025
We get up late and walk around Zurich old town.
We’re out by the lake when Meg and Steve tell us they’re up and about.
The darkening weather collides with my hidden bad mood, and it starts to rain. We walk in the rain and meet them in an Irish pub, where we watch four different sporting events on TV at the same time. Including Lando Norris winning the Silverstone GP by default after his teammate Oscar Piastri incurs a daft penalty. We start debating what we’re going to do and end up in a restaurant (bierhalle Wolf) that’s showing the Switzerland game. The gaffer is a real character. We drink a load of Schneider weiss and have some rosti.
If you’re in Switzerland, ever, get some rosti down your neck. It’s a bit like pizza if pizza had grated potato instead of bread and the toppings were not baked into oblivion. God damn, it was tasty. I debated ordering a second one. The drinking continued unabated and after saying goodbye to Meg and Steve, we headed back to the apartment and continued drinking until the early hours.
I tearfully told Mike about tomorrow’s funeral and that I just needed to be somewhere to watch it. We agreed to take separate paths for the day. Mike going to see the Rhinefalls and me sitting at home watching a funeral on my phone.
MILEAGE: 10.6 miles (31.8 total)
July 7, 2025
It’s a difficult morning. Loss is hard, generally. Being in the wrong country while a loved one is being buried is hard to take. The impending funeral had felt like a dark cloud hanging over me for days beforehand. Ros’ illness and subsequent death has been a part of a disturbingly bad year for my mental health. While my other issues seem to have cleared up, there’s no escaping this nagging disappointment that I can’t be at the funeral to support my mother.
I saw how hard she took Ros’ death and not being there genuinely pains me. Watching the funeral via a feed ends up being a cathartic experience. I get to say goodbye, in my own way, and I can see on video that my mother is ok. All the way from Switzerland. People who say the internet is bad fail to understand how connective it is. Ros was an early adaptor to the world wide web and the possibilities of it. I shall miss her advice, her intelligence and her kindness.
With the service concluded I felt a sense of profound relief. That my decision to come to Switzerland had not been selfish and that life had continued without me. People had coped and I was free to enjoy life. Something I hadn’t done in a long time. For those who know me, the past six months I’ve been down low. I know people who suffer with depression, and I wish they could experience the relief of it just ending like it did for me on July 7. Six months of pain, problems and mourning just gone. Taken away with 30 minutes of tears and music.
I left the apartment and strolled down to Migrolinos to buy some bread, ham and cheese. I sat in the apartment making myself a sandwich. It was simple and yet one of the best things I had tasted in a long time. The crunch of the baguette is still fresh in my mind. Do you ever get the urge to just ‘go for a walk’?
15 minutes later I was in the woods outside of Zurich. Intent at climbing a nearby hill. In my haste, I had completely forgotten to bring anything with me. It was just me and nature. No bag, no water. It could have been a complete disaster. Where Switzerland exceeds England is in drinking water. There were multiple drinking fountains on my route, and I gleefully supped on alpine spring water at every chance. It was still hot, and the climb was steep.
For those interested in walking I have an app called All Trails, which shows you where public footpaths are. So, I wind my way up a mountain in a country I’ve never set foot in before and I feel like I know where I’m going.
Soon, a sweaty me is rewarded with glorious vistas above Zurich. As I felt sweat pooling at the base of my spine and my knees aching, I reflected on my decision making. “It was worth it”.
I made my way down the mountain, taking a somewhat less steep slope, and a new problem emerged. There was a thunderstorm rolling in. I was quite high up. I could not take the direct route down because it was too steep and wet. So, off we went the long way around.
As I emerged back into civilisation, I agreed to meet Mike back at the apartment where we settled in to watch Spain thrash Belgium on TV. I may not have been to any football today, but I will never forget it. Nature had healed my mental wounds, and I was ready to go again.
MILEAGE: 9.7 miles (41.5 miles total)
July 8, 2025
Today we’re off to Lucerne/Luzern (depending on what language you speak). Yesterday’s rain remained but this was due to be our last wet day before a dry conclusion to our trip. On the journey we had our ticket checked for the first time and we can confirm the Swiss pass gimmick does work. Zurich to Lucerne for gratis, along with the £23 football ticket. Come on FA, get this kind of deal done for the UK. It needs to be a thing.
Lucerne is a very pretty city. Most of Switzerland is easy on the eyes but Lucerne is another level. We’re close enough to the French/German speaking border that I hear both “merci” and “danke” was great regularity. Although “merci” seems to have spread way into the German speaking part of the country.
This “chapel bridge” is the oldest wooden covered bridge in Europe. Dating back 700 years. It’s a beauty. The Swiss do like a wooden covered bridge.
They also love putting a bend in them. Why build a straight bridge when you throw angles into it?
Everything seems to be angled towards the river as well. The turquoise bad boy getting a lot of attention from tourists. I found myself feeling more peaceful. More relaxed.
When it comes to old European cities, I can just walk around them forever. Explore alleyways and rooftops to my heart’s content. Luckily, “wandering around” is a hobby of Mike’s so we get along very well on these trips. We stop off for a beer, due to thirst, and end up taking shelter from a storm. The pub is called Bierliebe & Friends. The lady who’s working is on her own. Watching her command performance is wonderful. At one point she’s chatting away, switching effortlessly between four-five languages, and she put her hand on my shoulder and asked if I wanted another beer. Sensational service. If I was starting a business, anywhere, she would be a great hire. She must have been knackered by the end of the day. Her boss left her all alone with a town full of thirsty Swedes. Camp Sweden was right next door!
With the weather improving we head out of town towards the ground. The ground, the Stadion Allmend, is about 20 minutes on the tram or 36 minutes on foot. You know which option we did here don’t you? We walked out towards the ground and got there ridiculously early.
Having turned up about 2.5 hours before kickoff we headed out into a nearby woods for a stroll before returning to this big gold monstrosity. It looks like a university library, painted gold. Due to sponsorship reasons UEFA can’t call it the Swissporarena, but that’s what it’s called. Inside it’s nicely compact with a great view of the Alps. We are two hours ahead of kick-off, sat in our seats and the only beer is Heineken.
These seats were procured by Mike while we were in Switzerland. I basically gave it the ok a few days beforehand. We’re here to watch Poland vs. Sweden. Poland are at their first Euros and have looked out of their depth. Sweden were great against Denmark but not ruthless enough in front of goal. It has the makings of a decent game.
I’ve never been this early to a stadium before. We get to see the players rock up in their suits and walk around on the pitch. We see the entire warm up. Including the officials, who warm up in front of us. One of the linos is from England! Come on England! She delivers a flawless performance running the line. We get a tepid response to Maddli, for the first time. We’re getting more into the business end of things here. Games are more important.
We have loads of time, so we start debating mascots and decide that Albart, the mascot of Euro 2024, was released into the wild and now roams the forests of Bavaria. The Poland fans may be outnumbered here but they’re in fine voice. Mike compares it to FA Cup R3. A minnow has made it this far and now faces a proper big team. There is that vibe that potentially we could see a famous giant killing, or Poland might get smashed.
Sweden starts stronger and hit the bar twice in the opening 15:00. We get some awful Mexican waves around 20’, which threaten to derail proceedings but Sweden score to put a stop to it. Poland have been overwhelmed on their left flank all game and another cross comes from there, headed in from close range by Rina Blackstenius. 1-0 Sweden, 28’. Blackstenius is the kind of player who needs several chances to score but keeps getting into great positions with her movement. Like a modern day Andy Cole.
Part of the reason for the right side success is right back Hanna Lundkvist. Great forward passing from her down the right side. Most of her involvement in the tournament was in this game but I thought she did great. Blackstenius gets in again and this time is denied by the leg of Polish stopper Kinga Szemik. It’s a really good save and denies Sweden a clear-cut goal.
Therefore we get into half time at 1-0, and it should be a lot more. Maddli gets a better response at half time with more fans there to see her. Everyone piles into the concourse and I try for a toilet break and there’s no chance. I just about find the end of the queue and I’m not getting into the bog before the second half starts.
Poland have not learned their lessons from the first half and are exposed again down the Sweden’s right. Another cross finds Sweden skipper Kosovate Asllani who nods the ball in. A carbon copy of the opening goal. 2-0 Sweden, 52’.
As the sun sets over the mountains Sweden coast into the next round. A third from sub Lina Hurtig on 77’ puts pay to Poland’s Euros. 3-0 Sweden. Poland hit the post in stoppage time and I’m a little sad they don’t get a goal for all their pluck and industry. Luckily for them, they were able to score a couple against Denmark in the final group game. A major highlight of the second half is the Swedish end singing “Lay Your Love on Me” by ABBA. It sounded brilliant. Well played.
FINAL SCORE: POLAND 0 SWEDEN 3
This was the best game of the tournament so far. I had a blast here. It did give the vibe of a third round cup tie. Poland’s plucky performance was admirable, and Sweden played some great football. Let’s give the Swissporarena/Stadion Helland some scores shall we?
ATMOSPHERE:
The best so far. By a distance. Poland came to support their team HARD and Sweden were in much better voice than against Denmark. The ABBA singing in the second half just puts it over the top. Great atmosphere. ****
COST:
As with other fixtures transport was included. Because we booked late, this was 40 francs for the pleasure. ***
QUALITY:
The best game of the tournament, to this point, combined with a general joyous celebration of football that surrounded it. ***½
EASE OF ACCESS:
As with Letzigrund, it’s not far from the centre and we caught a train afterwards. It took us about 25 minutes to walk to the station. Google was confused with our power striding. ***
MISC:
Anytime I’m watching a game and there’s a huge fucking mountain in my line of sight, we’re cooking boys. ****
TOTAL: 17.5
The best overall experience thus far. A fantastic game of football, a lovely city to watch it in and mountains. Thumbs up.
We’re on the train and it’s packed full of Sweden fans and loads of them get off in Zug. One of the wealthiest cities on the planet, per head. We stroll home in Zurich and get ready for our final day in Zurich tomorrow.
MILEAGE: 9.9 miles (51.4 miles total)
July 9, 2025
Before we get underway, it’s one final stop at Migrolino for supplies. What a tremendous little shop this is. We eat in the apartment one last time, running low on cheese. I tell Mike I’m “rationing the gouda”. He informs me that’s definitely a metaphor for something. We scoff down some more Crunchy Clouds (with hazelnut) and head off to the pub. We’re meeting up with Meg and Steve again ahead of the game. Oh yeah, today is England vs Netherlands as we return to the dreaded Letzigrund. Well aware that defeat means we’re going home at the group stage. An ignominious failure for the defending champions.
We stroll down to a boozer and find the Dutch fans in good voice. They have this massive bus party thing with an inflatable lion’s head. Mike thinks we may have been heckled as passing English fans. Bierwerk Zuri is the pub. It’s right next to the fanzone and the dreadful Dutch DJ sends us scurrying for inside where you can buy bowls of pretzels that have little dolphins in.
My notes for the pre-match include “tall Dutch, reverse Ecuadorian”. I don’t know what that means. It’s something to do with sea levels. We repeat our pre-match bratwurst only getting a rock hard uncut bun this time around. Bratwurst remains excellent. We head into the Letzigrund. I should have PTSD after last time but, as mentioned earlier, my mood has dramatically improved and not even a game of football can ruin it.
The stadium blares out crappy Dutch techno music. Is there a country in the world with worse musical taste than the Netherlands? In response the England band play “Sweet Caroline”. Both countries guilty of war crimes on the ears here. England have learned from the opening game. Carter has moved to central defence and Alex Greenwood takes over at left back. She has a much better game. Mead is on the bench after her poor opening game. And England start to mix up their range of passing.
A prime example is the opening goal where Hannah Hampton hits one long for Alessia Russo to chase. She lays it off to Lauren James who lashes the ball home from the edge of the box. 1-0 England, 22’. Not only do we lead, we’ve been the better team by a distance and the Dutch are struggling to cope with it. Song 2 blares out around the Letzigrund.
In first half stoppage time the Dutch don’t deal with an England free kick. It comes loose to Georgia Stanway who smashes it home from well outside the box. 2-0 England, 45+2’. WOOO HOOOO. A fantastic finish, right in front of us. Mentally I was thinking 1-0 is ok but we’ve been two goals better and there it is. 2-0 HT.
We start the second half in fine fashion too. The Dutch can’t clear a corner, and we recycle possession until a ball is clipped in from the left wing and Russo heads home. 3-0 England, 50’. Game over. Only it’s not because it was disallowed. A demoralised Netherlands ship the actual third on 60’ allowing us down their left flank and the ball ricochets around until Lauren James fires home. 3-0 England. (the third wasn’t offside either, fuck VAR).
I don’t remember the last time I was in a position where the team I was supporting was safely out of sight on the hour mark. Maybe never. It gets better as Russo collects a ball over the top. She cuts it back to Ella Toone who fires across the keeper. 4-0 England, 67’. We spend the last twenty minutes chilling the fuck out, making subs and thinking about going for pints.
FINAL SCORE: ENGLAND 4 NETHERLANDS 0
Look, I’m not going to reassess Letzigrund as the first game is the one that counts and it’s still not a good ground to watch football in. However, I had a fantastic time here. We go and get a few drinks afterwards and head home. It’s our last day in Zurich and it’ll go down in my personal history as the polarising city. When I arrived, I was miserable, when I left it was in a state of euphoria. Life is strange, sometimes.
MILEAGE: 9.5 miles (60.9 total)
July 10, 2025
Meg and Steve are off to Lucerne. We are off to Thun for a night in the Northern Alps. When they picked the grounds for this tournament, I requested we go to Thun. I have my reasons. We board a train and discover we’re sat close to a table of Yanks. Oh my god. Can’t you people just sit quiet for an hour? You have to loudly talk about every fucking thing you see. “let’s play I-spy”. Ok, “I spy with my little eye, a table of annoying Yanks”. When the matriarch began to explain the “SARKER” tournament that was taking place we got up and moved down the carriage.
When we get off in Thun, we’re greeted with this sort of sight. That’s the Eiger on the left. A mountain my parents went to in the 1970s, before I was even born. They stayed at Interlaken, which is the next stop on the train. To finally be re-treading some family footsteps here pleases me. Thun, as a place, is just stunning. It’s a fucking postcard. I took a bunch of photos here so here’s some of the best.
It’s one of those places, where I would gladfully sit here, lakeside, for a couple of months and not tire of my view. Sadly, we had to go and do stuff. On walking to a nearby pizza place for lunch we’re passed by the Netherlands coach. It turns out the training ground for the Dutch is next to our hotel!
I can think of worse places to hang out.
Speaking of the pizza place, the accompanying sauce was so spicy it made me cry. Like good tears. The waitress comes over and asks how it was. “Sehr scharf” I manage. I had to get a second beer because I was struggling. The hotel is tidy, and we settle down for a rest but unfortunately some Norwegian is practicing drumming in a nearby room.
So, we stroll into Thun itself to discover it’s like a mini-Lucerne. Just comically beautiful. I tell Mike I would have loved to have been based here. Zurich was good but this place is special. It’s relatively cheap too. I don’t feel like I’m being price gouged.
Just when I think we’ve seen it all, we happen upon people surfing under the weir.
We then adjourn for beverages, as I am thirsty, and we find a place called Mike’s Bar. He describes himself as a “one man army”. Doing everything himself. Good old Mike. Fabulous little boozer if you discover yourself in Thun. I would have loved to have stayed here for 10 days and become a regular at Mikes. Get my picture on the wall.
If I ever go back to Switzerland, I’ll be visiting Thun. Sometimes a place just falls in line with your needs. I needed Thun and it was there for me. However, it almost ended in disaster. More on that later.
This is the ground for tonight’s game; Stockhorn Arena, dubbed “Arena Thun” by UEFA. Not sure why they can’t cope with the stadium being named after a literal mountain. The mountain is over on the left of the shot. It lines up with the stadium so you can see the mountain through the top of this graphic from the kickoff.
And look at this for a view. This is from our seats. We sat down and this view was in front of us. Stunning. Fantastic. When you see pictures from a football ground, you dream of this backdrop. This is what you want. I sat here for ages, just looking at mountains. The match; Norway vs. Iceland, was supposed to be a dead rubber. Norway had already qualified, despite playing badly, and Iceland were out. The real drama would come at Finland vs. Switzerland.
However, this game provided enough thrills and spills for us. First the anthems and a few people don’t bother standing for either anthem. I’m assuming they are Swiss. They are a cold and distant people. Iceland are very loud but Norway has numbers. It should be a good atmosphere. Iceland take it to Norway early doors and when a header from a corner is saved Svendis Jonsdottir opens the scoring. 1-0 Iceland! Jonsdottir is a real ‘one to watch’. Very lively winger who commits players and likes to shoot. A very exciting talent.
Ten minutes later Norway are all square. A corner is played out of the box to Signe Gaupset and she hits a controlled volley into the bottom corner with her right foot. A fantastic take. 1-1, 15’. Gaupset soon has Norway in front. Another technically excellent finish. This time left foot into the other corner from outside the box. 2-1 Norway, 26’. The game is not lacking in entertainment with Iceland eager to attack, the fans supportive of both teams, the girl behind us breaks out a kazoo and the referee books the wrong player!
After half time some locals find getting back into their seats tricky and some old pissed bloke is scrambling over me when Norway get a third. Manuum has it. I didn’t see it. 3-1 Norway, 50’. Iceland haven’t given up. On or off the field. The Icelandic Thunderclap rings out around the Stockhorn and the locals applaud it. It is sensational to watch live. I often wondered how they coordinate it, and a drum plays them into the clap.
On 76’ the Iceland defence keep backing off and Frida Manuum gets her second. 4-1 Norway. The atmosphere becomes strangely subdued as Finland have scored. The Swiss locals who are padding out the attendance are not best pleased. Matters are corrected by the Swiss, who net in stoppage time, to the relief and loud vocal support of the Swiss in the ground. Meanwhile this one is far from over. Jonsdottir makes a great run and squares it to Eiriksdottir, 4-2 Norway, 84’.
The Swiss score for the 1-1 and here there is also drama. VAR think there’s a penalty. There is. Norway are down to ten as a result and Viggosdottir tucks the pen away. 4-3. Time runs out before a dramatic late equaliser and another memorable game comes to an end. To think I was worried about the quality of games earlier!
FULL TIME: NORWAY 4 ICELAND 3
Let’s give out some scores here shall we?
ATMOSPHERE:
It ebbed and flowed a bit. Mainly due to Switzerland’s poor performance in their own game and also thanks to Norway opening up a three goal lead. Iceland tried to keep it interesting, on and off the pitch. **½
COST:
As with the other games this was £23. Can’t complain. Got to see Thun as well. ***½
QUALITY:
A fabulous game of football. Even better than the Poland-Sweden game. Although not quite as satisfying as England-Netherlands. ****
EASE OF ACCESS:
From our hotel it was 30 minutes bus or 33 minutes walk. Which would become a problem after the game. Oh, the story is coming readers. **½
MISC:
That mountain backdrop. I can’t fault it. *****
TOTAL: 17.5
Another hefty score thanks to a good game of football with a stunning backdrop.
Skip this next paragraph if you don’t want to hear about toilet related matters.
Before we hit the mileage count here comes my story of a potential disaster. 33 minutes walk back to the hotel from Stockhorn Arena. I’m aware, as we leave the ground, that I could do with a piss. We get about 10 minutes walk away and I sneak into some bushes to sort that out. Which is when I realise the heaviness is not from needing a leak but rather a desperate urge to take a shit. 23 minutes walk. Oh no. We start off and I tell Mike the issue. Uh oh. He offers me the key so I can ‘run ahead’. I can’t run Michael. I can barely walk here. I glance at the map. 15 minutes walk. Fuck. I’m sweating here. I start glancing down potential alleyways for somewhere to drop trou. But I’m also aware this is not a normal shit. This is poopmageddon. 10 minutes away. I’ve started to walk with my buttocks clenched. It’s nearly at the point where I cannot stop it. I start into breathing exercises, designed to reduce heart rate. That has to help right? 5 minutes away. Oh no, we’re up a few flights of stairs. Can I even do that? We get to the hotel…and there’s a disabled toilet by the check in desk. I hurry across the lobby and just barely make it. The panic was real here readers. I was maybe 5 minutes away from soiling myself. If the game had overrun by 5 minutes, you’d be hearing a story of how I shit myself in Switzerland. When we got back into the room Mike started giggling as I detailed how close it was. “These shorts were so close to being in the bin”. And we breathe.
MILEAGE: 11.2 miles (72.1 miles in total)
July 11, 2025
One final shot of Thun before we go. What a place. An actual fairy-tale.
Here’s a man happy with the view, and who doesn’t have to throw away any clothes. We’re up early in Thun to head to Austria. Why? Because it’s cheaper! Also, Mike has always wanted to visit Bregenz so that’s where we’re staying for a couple of days. On departing Switzerland it’s interesting to see them cleaning the steps in Thun bahnhoff. The Swiss are obsessed with cleanliness. I’m glad some poor clean-freak Swiss fella didn’t have to deal with my discarded soiled undies.
We take a train to Zurich, then another on the way to Munich. Which is unfortunate because it means the train is full of Germans and Germans reserve seats. You know they do. I’m surprised the seats didn’t all have towels on them when I boarded. We eventually found two that were free, but the train was very full. Everyone has so much shit with them too. Everyone has a bloody suitcase. Multiple bags. Someone walks down the train with two bike wheels. Where’s your fucking bike pal? More absolute jackasses get on at Winterthur and start arguing about seats. One of whom decides to park their backpack in Mike’s face. “You will get this seat over my cold, dead, arse”.
In a cheerful highlight Meg spots a pedestrian crossing where the green light is a footballer with a ponytail. She looks like she’s ‘crossing’ too, which is a nice touch. We get into Bregenz, have a few dunkels, get into the apartment and decide, on an impulse, to walk into Germany.
This is Lake Konstanz. Mike has planned out a little stroll to an island, which is in Germany. Over there is Bregenz. This is the first time I was able to take a picture of the lake because the entire stretch outside of Bregenz is half naked Austrians sunbathing. I don’t go to the beach. I don’t go swimming. I’m not used to seeing that many half naked people in the real world. Also, I think it’s impolite to take pictures of people in that state of undress.
And here we are, having walked into Germany. Spending most of the walk debating starting a YouTube channel where we just walk to places. Or around lakes. Or something. I point out you would have to insert some conversation to pep it up. “Like, your opinion on hedgehogs”. “Bastards” replies Mike. See? Ideal.
After hours of walking we end up in Germany at Lindau-Insel. After getting some flamkuchen (Mike had three flamkuchen’s during this holiday) and a flight of beers, we headed back to Austria on the train. There was an option of walking it, but it was getting dark. How dark?
This dark. Sun literally setting as we got off the train. Sunset over Lake Konstanz. We really have seen some beauty on this journey.
MILEAGE: 11.5 miles (83.6 miles total)
July 12, 2025
We’re nearly done but there’s one last thing to tick off before heading to St Gallen and our final England game. That’s right, we’re walking into Liechtenstein. We take a train down to Buchs first, as to not be totally sadistic about it. It’s hot as balls today. HOT AS BALLS. I have forgotten to apply deodorant.
After we get off the train we walk down to the Rhine. The other side of this river is Liechtenstein. We’re walking down to a small foot bridge and crossing over.
This foot bridge. It’s closed. Oh. There’s a slight concern that the border might be shut. It is here. We consider wading across the Rhine for about half a second. There’s no way. That’s asking to be killed. Unless you’re Swiss, then it’s a pastime.
We carry on and eventually come to this bridge. A covered wooden bridge. How very Swiss. On the other side is another country. We had a small argument about how many countries I’d officially been to as I was counting Wales and Scotland. Look, UEFA think they’re different countries, so I am claiming them. If I do get to claim them Liechtenstein becomes the twentieth country I’ve been to. Considering the tenth was Germany back in 2017 (for Carat) the post Covid adventure has been real.
Around an hour after we crossed the border EE welcomed me to Liechtenstein. Thanks lads, doing a bang-up job. We walk about and get some sausage and cheese salad.
Do not knock this until you try it. Mike suggests walking to Schaan, which is the next town along. Hey, fuck it, why not? Liechtenstein is an odd place. There’s loads of American muscle cars. Everyone has more money than sense. It’s spotlessly clean. It’s tiny. And in July, it’s being repaired.
As we walk along, I become increasingly thirsty, and my legs are itchy. Well, it turned out they were itchy because I had sunburn. I felt very hot, slightly sick and thirsty. Hey, today is going great.
On arriving in Schaan, we get a quick drink (of water) and catch the bus back into Austria. I have clearly had it for the day. We watch Sweden beat Germany on TV later and I have developed a soft spot for the Swedes based on their style of play during this tournament. As a result of their win, if England beat Wales (and France don’t lose to the Dutch) we finish P2 and play Sweden in the quarters.
MILEAGE: 9.1 miles (92.7 miles total)
July 12, 2025
We awaken in Bregenz and have some spare time, so we chill at the lake.
We’re both excited for tonight’s game and also a little sad that the trip is almost over. There’s also a slight urge to go home. 10 days is enough time to be away from home. Even if money was no object, I would struggle with longer than 10 days. I like my home comforts. I’m sat here, in my office chair, typing on my keyboard, with my fridge next to me and my fan pointing at my less sweaty than usual back. Later tonight I’ll be watching England play Sweden. On the TV.
We board the train to St Gallen. The Germany climbing team is on it. I also spot a UEFA volunteer. She may be pointing us towards something later! We have to wait for our room to be ready so we pop into an Italian place called San Lorenzo.
This hit the spot. I declare that I don’t want any booze and get a free shot of Schnapps after the meal. Fuck it, you only live once. It’s delicious. The pasta, not the schnapps. The waiter is one of those jovial Italian types and he asks how we liked the food. I give him a “molto bene” and he grins from ear to ear. “graci milie”. Every time I go away, I come back wanting to learn a foreign language and I’m so bad at it that it never happens. I should go and immerse myself in a language for a couple of months.
The place we’re staying still isn’t open and there are people milling around outside awaiting a room code. We tell Meg and Steve we’ll be late and eventually get buzzed in around 2:20PM. We head up the stairs and open a door to a random corridor and Meg and Steve are there! They’re in the same hotel. The other side of a random door. That we happen to open just as they walk towards it. What are the odds?
We head in to dump our stuff off and Mike starts apologising because we don’t have a private bathroom. If we were there for four days, that might have been an issue. We’ll be in this room for about four hours. It’s fine.
We visit the rooftop, which is hot as balls with absolutely no shade, but the views are marvellous. We start planning out a trip with like eight lads. Imagine having that whole section of the hotel with the common area to chill out in and sink beers. Marvellous. We head into town and everywhere is closed because it’s Sunday. The Swiss are so funny. They don’t care about money. It’s Sunday, we’ll just close. But there are 15,000 football fans in this weekend. I said, “it’s Sunday”.
We meet Mike’s friend Harvey and his friend Callum. Both of whom are over to watch the knockout stages. I am mad jealous. I have them both on Futbology and when they checked in for Italy vs. Norway, I got those pangs of jealous again. We have to get a bus to the ground here because walking it is off the table. It’s fucking miles away. It’s the worst stadium location of the trip. It’s legitimately 90 minutes walk from central St Gallen.
We get off the bus and head into the ground. Harvey and Callum are in a totally different block, so we say goodbye to those lads. Then we have the most intense security procedure of the trip. All pockets have to be emptied and checked. Mike gets his flag checked, in case it has hate speech on it. Is Luton Town Ladies hate speech? Clearly, they’re worried about the Brits. We get completely separated and I nip to the toilet. We all manage to find our seats and they are banging.
The ground is this huge concrete monstrosity but sometimes, that’s what you need for football. Pack people in. As far as design of stadium goes, this is great.
The mood is vibrant. Everyone in this stadium has seen Wales play. We know England are going to win. We’re almost relaxed ahead of a crucial group game. The venue is more sanitised than the other venues because we’re so far away from anything else. Every vendor feels like they’re UEFA approved. As the England players warm up in front of us, there is already a feeling of jubilation. What a trip this has been.
The game kicks off and predictably England are far better than Wales. Women against girls. It’s all England with no breakthrough until 10’ in we get a free kick on the edge of the area. The stadium screens replay it and it’s blatantly inside the box. Oops. “I think it’s a pen lads…or ladies” says Mike. VAR has a look and rightfully awares a pen. Stanway puts it in. 1-0 England. 13’.
The band play “Sweet Caroline”. At least it’s not a Mexican wave, I guess. England score an absolute mess of a second. Toone firing home at the second attempt. 2-0 England. 21’. We get a comical third as the Wales left back goes missing and a cross is converted by Lauren Hemp, although it looked like an OG off the keeper. 3-0 England, 30’. Another attack down the right leads to a cut back for Russo who taps it in. 4-0 England, 44’. Game over by half time. Sick.
England pass it around the back for most of the second half before Beth Mead, off the bench, fires home for 5-0. 72’ played. Wales get one back, on the counter, and England eventually add a sixth through Aggie Beever-Jones late on.
FINAL SCORE: ENGLAND 6 WALES 1
Sweet Caroline rings out around the England end as the Welsh fans stay and applaud the efforts of their team, at a first major tournament. England advance to the quarters.
Shall we give some scores to this ground before heading off?
ATMOSPHERE:
Considering how one-sided this game was, the support was epic from both sides. England belting out every song they know. Being cheer-led by some crazy bloke festooned in every England merch possible. Fair play to him. “I’d love 15 minutes in his head” says Mike. Wales were great too. I love how they bang out their anthem. ****
COST:
Same as the rest, £23 plus the use of public transport. I’ve probably graded this too low all tournament but I’m not re-doing it all. I’m tired. ***½
QUALITY:
If you ignore how poor Wales were, it was decent. The issue came when England took their foot off and just passed it around the back four for twenty minutes. Mercy is for the weak, ladies. ***
EASE OF ACCESS:
Holy shit, this was awful. It’s so far away from the middle of St Gallen. Five kilometers away. It’s easy enough to get to on public transport. We’re talking 20 minutes on the bus. However, you can’t fit 15,000 people on buses after a game. As we walked back to St Gallen, we kept seeing these heaving buses going past us. No thanks. *
MISC:
It’s a very well built stadium. Probably the best pure stadium of the trip. However, it is just a big block of concrete. Good football stadium though. ***
TOTAL: 14.5
This really works as a stadium, unlike Letzigrund, but it’s fucking miles away from anything. Why build it out there? Of the ‘big’ stadiums this beats Letzigrund though. Easily.
MILEAGE: 9.1 miles (101.8 total)
We did it, we walked over a hundred miles in Switzerland. There were some extra ones the next day as we headed from St Gallen to Zurich airport but I’m happy with the number here. Over a ton. Good effort.
Many, many thanks to my companions on this trip who helped make it so special. Mike for planning everything and allowing me to just rock up at his house with a passport and a rucksack and tag along. Meg and Steve for thinking of us in the first place. And everyone for being a joy to be around. Great people to hang out with, have a few drinks with, watch the football with. Lovely stuff.
And that’s it from Switzerland. What a fantastic holiday this was. It was what I needed. It was good for the soul. I came back mentally refreshed and ready to be a useful person again. Thank you for reading. Sorry it got off track a bit in places, but you have to tell the whole story. And that’s what you’ll always get from me, like it or not.
In the interests of finishing this in typical Swiss neutrality;
Ciao
Au revoir
Tschüss
Bye for now.
Arnold Furious;
Mountain gazer
Lake admirer
Football fan
Walker
Mourner
Luckily not a pants shitter
Twitter