By Bisach
January 18 2006

I always thought this would be a different sort of tour when we asked the in-laws to come along and also decided to bring Charles on his first. When I couldn’t get everything into a rucksack, I realised I’d been right. Here’s my recounting of events.

After having "missed" the bus at Linate, we decided to get a taxi to the Stazione Centrale hoping that the in-laws, who managed to get seats on the bus, would be o.k. As it turned out, we got to the station before them. While we were waiting I thought I'd get the train tickets. I soon realised that I should have learnt the lingo beforehand. This is the first time that I’ve been on tour not knowing how to say anything??? After something about different prices for different trains I thought I'd give it a miss and try later. Anyway, after Martin and Sonia arrived, we eventually managed to buy the tickets for reserved seats on the express train to Parma. I'm glad we reserved seats as after we'd ensconced ourselves and hefted the luggage onto the racks, we found lots of people standing in the aisles of the train. I definitely wouldn't have liked to do that for the whole journey.

Arriving at Parma, we were told by a helpful Irish supporter that our hotel was only a few minutes away from the station. I didn't see the lies slipping through the teeth. O.k., for most people he was right, but for a group including someone who'd recently had her ankles operated on and someone else who needs new knees, and after a couple of wrong turns, it took a while longer than expected. Eventually the Hotel Torino

was reached (one I'd highly recommend to anyone else,) and after a quick wash and change we met others in the foyer before going off to the Trattoria Corrieri for a fantastic meal in equally fantastic company.

As the evening wore on, and no reflection on the people I was with, I began to miss the "Craic" of previous tours, and so, at the conclusion of the meal Sarah and Charles went back to the hotel (sensible woman) and I went to le Bistro for a change of pace. What a sight, "normal" Craic tour service was obviously in full swing at the said establishment. After a couple of hours of drinking and singing(?), 2am saw me back at the hotel. Bless her, Sarah had even waited up for me.

Saturday morning saw me, bleary eyed, getting up for breakfast where a recounting of the previous nights events was going on amongst other supporters. Other tours would have seen a quick return to le Bistro, however, this time a walk was suggested. So off we went with Robin and Alex to find the stadium. And a pleasant enough walk it would have been had we fully understood directions. "Go over the bridge where you see the big red tower" we were told. We weren't told go over the second bridge you see though. We went over the first that led to a rather large area of parkland that we decided to walk through.

I can imagine large numbers of Parma's great and good spending their summer days there although it did look a bit bleak with a light dusting of snow. Once again, however, the company made it at lot better than it could have been. After passing several locked gates we managed to find our way out and headed off in the direction we thought the stadium would be. This time we got it right and we arrived at the Stadio Lanfranchi to find Corredo, his wife Enda, and Ernesto amongst others getting things ready for the day’s events. And what a job they had. As it turned out, all their efforts of that morning still hadn't thawed out the ground completely for the game.

A rather shorter route took us back to the hotel via the market.

And what does someone do in an Italian market on tour? Why, having seen the concrete steps of the stadium, buy cushions of course.

Back at le Bistro, I received my OSB cowl (habit, whatever,) and via the hairdressers,

we decided we'd go for a Pizza at the other side of the Piazza before going to the match.

Back at Stadio Lanfranchi, it soon became evident that guesstimates of LI presence at the game had been low. We'd arrived relatively late and there were already hundreds there and more arriving. Rocket balloons were duly handed round and the LISC's donation of a bag of T-Shirts was given to Ernesto to pass on to his team. I really did not expect him to turn up later with a number of Parma T-shirts that soon found their way to eager hands.

Terry, "the kit man", had been a star and delivered the drums to the seating area. We found our patch and warmed up (well as much as we could.) Thanks to all the new boys for their drumming efforts. Big Andy gave it a certain "je ne sai quoi". The reports of the game you've read, in both Italian and English, do more justice to the game that I ever could so I won't say anything about it ... other than the referee was ... tall, and thin. As to the support, Immense. Both Irish and Parmese, especially the Parma supporters standing behind the drummers. They purred and miaowed their heads off. I'm sure at Big Andy's drumming, not just at Ross's last kick.

After the game, we regrouped inside and outside the marquee set up for the teams' post match meal/presentations. Here we thanked the guys from both teams for their efforts and it was good to meet up with the Parma team again. We said our goodbyes to let them get on with it and so that we'd be in time to see the Olympic event Parma had set up especially for the Craic tourists.

Piazza Garibaldi the setting for said event wasn't too full when we arrived at 6.30pm. Maybe it was due to previous events between riot police and rampaging football fans? But that gave some of us time in not too bad queues to have our photos taken with "the" Olympic Torch.

Apparently it was the one that was to be used in the Olympic flame’s next stage through Italy, the current one being delayed by the rampaging mob. I'm also sure that the bobsleigh used for photographs must have been for kids as it was damned painful to get into. There wasn't even room for a little Raff, never mind a big one.

A few of us then braved the elements outside waiting for the flame to arrive. Have you ever seen "Big Andy" writ large on a massive screen? The Piazza was now beginning to fill up waiting for the scheduled 7.30pm arrival time. Which came and went. The "compere" and dancers filled in as best they could and the green-garbed hoards did their best to keep the Italian snappers happy. 8.30pm brought the flame into the square. Actually it was a rather fetching young Italian lady but I thought I shouldn't say that in case the wife reads this. Doh! Thankfully, at that stage, they lit the mini Olympic flame, as it was getting a bit nippy. Events in the square then started to wind down and a welcome relief was found in le Bistro with cold beer and warm food.

A little later, after waiting for the LI team to arrive and after many telephone calls between Gnoo and her Parma line-out buddies, a few of us decided to go back to the stadium to see if we could corral the Parma team to join everyone at le Bistro. We arrived in the warmth of the marquee to find a party in full swing and to receive an even warmer welcome from our "Allied Arms" drinking buddies. Tokens of rugby friendship were exchanged (you can get a whole new wardrobe on tour) and the free bar made use of. We really did try to get the Parma team to come back to le Bistro but they were intent on keeping warm.

In fact, the only time anyone went outside was to use the outdoor facilities. Ernesto even opened up the stadium to allow a guest to make use of facilities??? As events wound down, Jimmy (German Fontana) suggested we decamp to a local hostelry amid much assuring that he was o.k. to drive. We succumbed and five of us got into his car to be driven to god knows where. God knows where seems to be a popular place as we even found a few LI players there rounding off their evening. Having partaken of some Argentinian concoction created to either warm to cockles or kill them off, the evening (and the previous 44 years worth of them) began to take its toll on me. Like one does, I was however, persuaded to be driven to the next watering hole. I agreed to go, as I’m sure you understand, only to make sure the rest were o.k. When we got on the autostrada to Piacenza I did begin to wonder where we were being taken. It turned out to be a nightclub on some industrial estate on the outskirts of Parma. After a drink and some dancing by my fellow tourists, they then decided to take pity on me and persuaded Jimmy to drive us back to our hotel. He dropped us off back at the Piazza Garibaldi where he proceeded to empty his car of kit. One of the group decided it was too cold to just wear the new kit she’d obtained and wore it outside her normal clothes instead. As I’ve tried to do throughout, I won’t name any names here.

4.00pm found me wondering whether her indoors had waited up for me again. No such luck this time.

Sunday morning and the eyes were even blearier than Saturday’s. But we roused ourselves to prepare for the trip back to Milan where we were staying the night. A final coffee was had at le Bistro amongst awakening LI supporters before we set off for the station. The reserved tickets certainly worked again as 3 travellers and a dog kindly vacated our seats to find their own elsewhere. This time when the directions said "the hotel is 150m from the station", they were correct, although in what direction was an initial issue. The Starhotel Splendido, again one I’d recommend (although a bit pricey for drinks,) was a welcome respite from travelling before looking for somewhere to eat. We decided to give the hotel restaurant itself a miss in favour of something local. Something local was closed. And having walked to Piazza Repubblica, we decided to take the Metro to the Piazza del Duomo rather than going back to the hotel. Sunday in the Piazza was certainly busier and more "open" than where we’d originally been. We even met up with fellow supporters who suggested the very Italian named "Royal" restaurant. Another fine example of Italian cuisine was partaken of before heading back to be in bed by 8.30pm. Something was definitely wrong there.

We’d booked a late flight back on Monday in order to let the ladies do a bit of Milanese shopping. As it turned out, Charles was the only one who parted with cash, as Prada didn’t sell anything within our budget. We did however do the culture thing by visiting the Teatro della Scala

and also venturing onto the roof of the Cathedral.

Both well worth doing should you ever get the chance. We did think about visiting the Cenacolo Vinciano to see da Vinci’s fresco of "The Last Supper", but the advance booking period of 7 days put paid to that. Come 3pm we were back on the airport shuttle to catch our flight. By 8pm, we were home.

A "slightly different tour", well certainly for me. For good company, good food, good experiences, I’d do it this way again. Then again, for good company, good food, good experiences, I’d also do it the way I’d done it before.

Sorry about the verbosity. I suppose I could have just said "good company, good food, good experience" and left it at that. You’d have got the gist.

BTW, has anyone found a perfectly good pair of ankles. I’ve lost mine and been substituted with a pair which are neither use nor ornament.