We were still a long way from Lisbon and just about 30 hours to kick off
You will gather from that we didn’t have a toilet on the bus but we managed OK over the first day. Now we were a bit concerned as we were still a long way from Lisbon and just about 30 hours to kick off. It was decided to bring a bucket from the boot of the bus and to store it in the door stairwell in case of future emergencies. I can’t say if it was ever used.
We stopped for lunch in Vitoria. After Burgos we crossed the high plateau of the Meseta. The road seemed to be always going straight to the horizon, generally without another vehicle to be seen. We passed numerous small villages but they were just too far off the road to tell if they were populated or abandoned. They certainly looked ancient.
We reached Salamanca at around 11:00pm
We had the occasional pitstop, passed through Valladolid and kept on the move until we reached Salamanca at around 11:00pm. By then everyone was famished and we stopped at a roadside bar which we hoped could provide food. The only food on offer was what we thought were salami rolls but were almost certainly chorizo-filled boccadillos. Few if any in the group were prepared to eat salami but we still ordered the rolls and ate the bread.
The place was buzzing, with the staff trying to deal with an unexpected 50+ customers. One of our party, a young customs officer who could speak Spanish, ordered a bottle of beer. In his haste the bartender placed the bottle upside down in the glass and pushed it across the bar. The customs officer considered this unhygienic and complained. He was ignored and so, leaning over the bar, he emptied the beer into a sink and asked for a replacement. Eventually the replacement was reluctantly delivered but it was served in the same manner as before. The now incensed customs officer lifted the bottle out of the glass and threw the beer over the bartender. The bar staff didn’t take kindly to this development and as far as we could tell the police were called.
Lisbon Lions. Photo Imago
We quickly decided that our best course of action was to evacuate the bar, get on the bus and head for Lisbon. Not everyone was happy with this decision but we managed to fill the bus and drove off, hoping no blue lights would follow us.
It was about 2:00am when we reached the Portuguese border
It was about 2:00am when we reached the Portuguese border where we found a barrier across the road and two armed soldiers. Our Spanish speakers were brought into play but the soldiers showed no inclination to allow us to proceed. We quickly learned that the border crossing was closed from midnight until 7:00am. We were of course in Franco’s Spain. Our powers of persuasion were of no avail and we accepted that we were stopped there for the night.
Some of us were still standing around chatting when a British registered car, containing four young men, arrived on the scene. We assumed correctly that they were also going to the game and we explained the difficulty. They were unperturbed and the driver turned to his friends in the rear and said “John, have you got the collars there”. A minute later four fresh-faced priests, from Dundee I think, approached the soldiers at the barrier, confident that in Catholic Spain they would have some influence. They didn’t and we all stayed put until morning.
