Easter Weekend of 23/24 April 2011
An integral part of our List of 28 was supposed to be a visit to a fitness bootcamp in Devon run by a bunch of ex-SAS commandos (also referred to as the "Fat Camp" by some of our more evil-minded friends). After a year of wining and dining we felt we would benefit from lugging tree trunks for a couple of days.
Unfortunately - or fortunately, depending on how you look at it - we found out that our designated bootcamp recently went belly up as a result of the recession. Subsequently all the SAS guys had moved on to pastures new (that would be Libya in this case). This meant that we had to go on the hunt for an equally sporting-like destination to replace the Devon bootcamp. And what better place to go to than Wales for some sports? Ok, watching some sports if we are honest, but hey, we were always better at the couch potato version of sports than the real thing. As a replacement for the "Fat Camp", we opted to go to Wales for a "romantic" weekend away to see QPR play Cardiff City in the second tier of English Football. QPR, leading the Championship, would be promoted to the Premiership in case of a win against third-placed Cardiff City. We surely didn't want to miss out on QPR's return to the top flight after an absence of 15 years.
Eternally underperforming, owned by Formula 1 supremos Flavio Briatore and Bernie Ecclestone and financed by the billionaire Mittal steel family, QPR is not only one of the richest teams in England but it was also one of the founding teams of the Premier League in 1992. But in typical QPR fashion, they got relegated after a couple of seasons and have never been back since. Until now that is. 6 points ahead of second placed Norwich City and 8 points ahead of third placed Cardiff City with 4 games to go would mean that a win in Wales would secure promotion to the Premier League. Easy does it.
An early train from London Paddington on Easter Saturday got us to Cardiff at around 11:00 in the morning, where we were welcomed by riot police wearing full combat gear. But only in Wales will riot police guide you to the nearest pub - in this case The Great Western, and believe me there was nothing great about it - then cordon it off and not let anyone out until everybody has had a couple of pints. Makes the random beatings later on probably a bit easier.
As it was a complete sell-out, the only tickets we had managed to obtain were with the home fans. Em was lucky and she was seated next to a teenage girl. I was slightly less fortunate and sat next to a big bold beefed-up version of one of those guys you sometimes see pumping iron in your local gym. They do have some strange customs in Wales and "doing the Ayatollah" at the start of the game is one of them. Not sure if they have realised that Iran is not the most popular country in the world? The slapping of heads was interrupted by the introduction of Cardiff City's guest of honour. Not sure how they pick these guys, but this guy must have been in the Guinness Book of World Records for the longest name in human history: His Royal Highness Sultan Haji Ahmad Shah Ibni Sultan Abu Bakar Riayatuddin Al-Muadzam Shah of Pahang. Seriously. For what it is worth, this guy is apparently the Chairman of the Malaysian Football Association.
When the game finally started, QPR managed to fall behind within 6 minutes. To be fair it was a screamer of a goal from Cardiff's striker Bothroyd. Yes, I admit that I clapped modestly although reluctantly, but only because iron-man next to me was giving me the evil eye. We did however refuse to join in when the locals started singing "1-0 to the sheepshaggers" on moral grounds.
Fortunately QPR's talisman striker Adel Taarabt equalised shortly after that. Not wanting to risk the scorn off the locals, we barely moved. With half time quickly approaching and with most of the people around us already thinking about which pie to have during the break, Cardiff scored again. This time it was Bellamy, a convicted troublemaker, who in between beating the crap out of people when drunk, earns £90k a week to kick a ball. And that is exactly what he did. QPR went into half time 2-1 down to the "sheepshaggers".
The 2nd half wasn't as eventful as the 1st with the exception of the fact that good old Taarabt managed to equalise in the 71st minute. It stayed 2-2 and when the final whistle went, QPR was not promoted quite yet, but still well on track. If all would go well, they could clinch promotion at home against Hull on Easter Monday. Having supported QPR for a while and having learned to deal with the disappointments that come with that, we had taken precautions and had got some tickets for the Hull game as well.
Those nice people in riot gear got us and the other QPR fans in some buses to get us out of town and onto a train to London as soon as possible. This time we didn't stop by the pub. When it took a little while to get the bus moving, everyone started singing "Cardiff is a shithole, we want to go home" (1). Once our police escort arrived, the bus driver duly obliged and got us the hell out of there. As a final tribute, he did take the touristy route through Cardiff's finest neighbourhoods.
Epilogue
In typical QPR fashion, they again failed to clinch promotion on Easter Monday after being held at home by Hull. QPR finally won the Championship and secured promotion to the Premiership following a 2-0 victory over Watford at Vicarage Road on 30 April 2011. By the looks of it, this could be the shortest reign as champions in the history of mankind, as QPR could be docked 15 points in the next couple of days if found guilty of basically breaching all the rules in the Football Association (FA) rulebook. Most of the charges center around the illegal ownership of the Argentine midfielder Faurlin, but allegedly QPR also managed to lie to the FA, forge some documents and bring the game into disrepute while they were at it. Flavio and Bernie are likely to appeal but it doesn't look good. Cardiff may be a shithole, but we will probably be back next year.
Next stop: Destination #25: Sipping Port with the Portuguese Doctors (Porto, Portugal)
Note (1): Ben and Sarah, please ignore this part, we absolutely loved your city. Honestly.
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