March 23 2008

Nou Camp, Barcelona... give me Selhurst any day

Jamesey sandwiched (or possible bocadillo'd) a little jaunt to Spain in between the Eagles' last two games.

Mrs J hadn't been there since she was a slip of a girl in the 60s and I hadn't been there since I did a solo trip in 1990.

So we were well overdue for a return visit to Barcelona, a city said to be one of the top sight-seeing destinations in the world.

So, no sooner had I returned home after our extremely gratifying 2-0 home win against Barnsley (Mar 15) and snatched a couple of hours' sleep, it was time to get ourselves down to Gatwick at some godforsaken hour for an early morning flight.

On arrival in Spain, a superbly efficient bus service (only 4 euros) sped us through the spotlessly clean thoroughfares to our beautifully appointed, top-class hotel (at half the price of a London equivalent).

Your columnist is old enough to remember the times when Britons sneered at all the lazy, incompetent, shambolic countries south of Calais. Whatever happened to reverse the situation?

Anyhow, among an orgy of visits to cathedrals, museums and stunning buildings and interiors designed by the architectural genius Gaudi, I had set aside a few hours to pay homage to a place all football fans hold in awe.

Leaving Mrs J on the loose with a credit card and access to Barcelona's most costly retail outlets (a financially risky if not downright foolhardy move), I snuck off to the home of football's own "cathedral", the Nou Camp where Barcelona strut their stuff.

I enjoyed wandering around and about the 100,000-seater stadium which has been the setting for so many legendary footballers and colossal clashes. My homage was duly paid in the warm, spring, Mediterranean sunshine.

On our return, we had barely unpacked before it was time to switch on and listen to the BBC's excellent London sports radio station, featuring our away fixture against Sheffield Wednesday.

According to the commentary, we were pretty well even stevens in the first half but were definitely second best in the final period.

So what a pleasure it was to do a "Bristol City" for a 2-2 draw.

To gain an away point after playing good football and dominating the game is a pleasure in itself. But to do so undeservedly by nicking a goal deep in injury time with only a few seconds to run is an ecstatic experience.

No, you can keep the glories of Barcelona and give me the shabby streets of South Norwood and the rickety old confines of Selhurst Park.

Palace, we just love you...

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