The Labours of Hackenbush

The first labour of Hackenbush

The plan was a bit weak - meet at terminal 3. Having travelled down from Hitchin I caught a ridiculously crowded Piccadilly line from Finsbury Park and, upon emerging from the tunnels at Barons Court I extracted my mobile with the intention of phoning Garry to see where they and how they were progressing. I didn’t bother, because before I could power up the mobile Garry walked in through the door followed by the other 2 and the Petts Wood CC Addicks were back in business.

Check-in was fairly painless, we had time for a pint (and to raid the cash dispenser) before boarding SK0532 bound for Stockholm Arlanda. This is where we depart from the script. The guy sitting in seat 2D (they boarded rearmost first, how did he get on ahead of us?) looks rather familiar. ";Hello Brian". You’re not supposed to meet your MD when you’re off boozing with your mates are you?

Anyhow the flight to Stockholm was pretty painless. Garry and I watched the "added features" on the "Raise the Roof" dvd Andy Reid had picked up for me the week before. The Californian sitting next to me tried to watch it too over my shoulder. In the end I let him watch THE goal by Bartlett and he just said "Oh wow"

Most of the cabin crew were Swedish but one Danish stewardess had all the male passengers drooling. At one point she asked me a question and I answered her in my best north Copenhagen accent. She looked very bemused and asked (in Danish) "Why are you flying to Stockholm?" "We’re, not, we’re going on to Luleå." "But why are you going there?" "To watch football." "But why are you flying from London?" It suddenly dawned on me that she thought we were flying from Copenhagen to Stockholm via London. Oh well!

In Stockholm we retrieved our bags, cleared customs and dashed (oh yes I know Arlanda airport) from terminal 5 to terminal 4 and still had time for a pint before the onward flight to Luleå.

Arriving in Luleå after a 75 minute journey from Stockholm we found Paul Ellis lurking by the luggage belt. "Should we offer him a lift to Luleå?" I suggested. Wrong move on 2 counts. Firstly, although I’d looked up our hotel on the internet and knew where it was, Paul thought the Arctic Hotel was "somewhere near the railway station." Secondly, having asked our party to bring soft-sided bags and 2 small rather than 1 large Paul appeared from the luggage belt with a roller-trolley which looked like it might have been converted from the Ark Royal. Eventually we stuffed all the luggage into the boot of our rented Mondeo and amazingly found both the Arctic Hotel and our own (despite the detour) with little or no trouble. Just to add joy to ecstasy the hotel bookings were valid and the first labour of Hackenbush was complete – that of getting his mates to Luleå.

Celebrating it was difficult, though. By the time we walked back to town around 10pm Luleå was closed – all except O'Learys, so we forgot the food and sat outside drinking beer until 12:30, when we went inside (those cold northern nights) for another hour before flagging down a taxi home before it got too light.
 

The second labour of Hackenbush

9am (local) was the agreed time for breakfast. Amazingly there we were on time with the whole day ahead of us. Well breakfast was a leisurely 90 minutes browsing the papers (as were most of the subsequent ones). Eventually we headed downtown. "Our challenge for the day" said Garry, "is to get a Sweden shirt signed by Matt Svensson for my grandson." "No problem", says I, let’s try that shop over there", so we all marched into Domus (past the Boden vs Charlton posters), up the escalator to the kids’ department where Sweden shirts proved to be on sale at only 249 SEK (£16-17.)  Stopping on the way out to scrounge a Boden vs Charlton poster we emerged to meet 2 familiar shirts (Captain and his mate Dave) outside. "Where’s the nearest bar?" they asked, so we gave them directions to O’Learys and set off sightseeing. Luleå can best be described as "quiet". Nothing much to see or so we took a look in the cathedral (mainly to settle an argument over whether it was new or a old but restored) where Garry all but got himself run over by a coffin which he hadn’t spotted being wheeled in by the side door. After a tour of the sports shops we emerged onto the main pedestrian street where a lunchtime game of giant chess was taking place. At first the action was non-existent but suddenly the action speeded up as a  black pawn took white night – giving rise to an impromptu rendition of "Goodbye horse" – and in the space of 4 moves all 4 knights had been removed from the game.

Emergency rations (beer and bananas) purchased from the supermarket and off to Byske. Traffic virtually non-existent so we arrived outside the ground (guided, as if we needed it, by fluorescent green "Charlton" signs) at 2:45 p.m. for a 7 p.m. kick-off. We weren’t the first, though, there already was Paul Ellis (eager to secure the programme allocation) and Lee’s dad (from the West Country branch)  moaning about "Mickey Mouse" football. This is where we learned about the Luke Young signing, which rather mucked up the pick them-in-alphabetical-order-Curbs 1st and 2nd teams Mark and I had worked out on the way down. Almost before we’d got out of the car a Sveriges Radio car pulled up beside us and the guy leapt out with a microphone covered in an old woollen sock and began to interview me. He didn’t accept my polite if non-committal reply to the "what if Charlton lose?" question (as I ducked the low-flying pigs) so I suggested that we might just have to drink twice as much beer. I thought he was just killing time but as soon as he had finished the interview he got back in his car and drove off. He must’ve trying to publicise the game.

We took a few snaps, walked inside the ground, bought programmes (the man wasn’t pleased when we explained that the despite all the effort he’d put into printing last years squad numbers the team would probably play in the 1-20 shirts they’d worn at Colchester). Then we were invited to sit down and have a cup of coffee before (in the ground) and we managed to borrow a felt-tip pen from the lady in the refreshment hut.

After a walk up the beautiful Laxdal (Salmon Valley) and through Byske, the original one-horse town, we dined on pizzas at the petrol station before returning for the game.

It was a surreal experience. We had parked opposite the ground but by now people were being diverted into other people’s gardens to park and then emerging with folding chairs etc. The closest experience I’ve known is cricket week at Maidstone. The team arrived about 6pm, apparently bemused that anyone should travel all that way to watch them play in a friendly, Chris Powell’s comment as he emerged from the dressing room "If we played in Timbuktu you lot would still be there" probably sums it up. Anyhow a quick shout to Matt Svensson did the trick and the second labour of Hackenbush was complete.

Matt Svensson (he didn’t start but made a late sub’s appearance) was interviewed before the game, Tord Grip ("I’m here to watch Chris Powell and Scott Parker") at half-time, Luke Young warmed up with his new team-mates and John Salako put on a man of the match performance in front of Tord Grip. The official crowd was 1278 souls. Total Addick count 27.
 

The third labour of Hackenbush

We weren’t sure where the Arctic Circle was so we set off in good time. The 3rd task was to play football (and eat an ice cream) in the Arctic Circle. Having tried without success in Byske to find the necessary (cheap) football we set of towards Oulu then turned north along the E10. By the side of the E10 we spotted a moose (or was it an elk?) lying down by the side of the road watching the traffic (us) go by.

At a place called Överkallix we stopped for petrol (petrol stations were getting very few and far between) and I asked the man in my best Swedish how far it was to the Arctic Circle. "25 to 30 kilometres" he replied, which we didn’t believe, so we bought a map and he was right. So we walked the length of the town, bought a cheap plastic ball in the supermarket, had a coffee and then headed off for the Arctic Circle. It all proved very easy because there was a sign there, so we hung up a Charlton flag, wrote "Charlton" on the sign, took off our shirts and posed for photographs before playing the obligatory football.

Football over we headed for the next place north, Jockfall, in search of ice creams. This turned out to be a magnificent waterfall by a campsite, or vice-versa, so we hung around for most of the afternoon what with lunch, postcard-writing, ice-cream and salmon-watching (alas in vain) and just generally relaxing in the sun.

Eventually at 9pm we made it to Oulu. The good news was that beer (even in the hotel) was cheaper than in Luleå. The bad news was that someone had planted trees between my window and the ground so all I could see was the floodlights instead of the expected view of Raati Stadium.
 

Hackenbush’s rest day

Eventually we moved on to a waterfront bar, closer to the Raati Stadium,where we could jeer at the various Finnish fans walking by in Arsenal shirts, West Ham shirts and the like. Strangely, none of them appeared to react at all.

At the ground it was clear this was going to be bigger than Byske – there were queues at the turnstiles and beer was being served inside the ground (albeit in a roped off area). 18 cheerleaders – well they didn’t so much lead as just do, no-one followed – in 2 groups shouted "Tervarit" and it must’ve had an effect because the goalie played a blinder and a freakish touch from a guesting player gave them a draw. This time the crowd was around 4000. Total Addick count approx. 40.
After a return to the waterfront we had dinner in the hotel before some of Tervarit crowd (Jamie, Marko and friends) came in. I had the opportunity to talk to their left-back Ismaila Jagne, certainly the first Gambian professional I’ve ever heard of. They pleaded with us to accompany them (a real role-reversal)  but eventually headed off to the disco with only a couple of the faithful. They must’ve been on a high after a good result but this was a real role-reversal.
 

The fourth labour of Hackenbush

We stopped shortly before the border to have a coffee and hopefully get rid of our remaining finmarks, not expecting to return before the euro conversion. There was a quiz machine there so we blew 5FIM on it and soon were trivial pursuit champions of Finland, that is to say we dithered rather too long over what to call ourselves, so the name "Charlt" was recorded in the annals of history.

After spending most of what remained on some Finnish beer Mark attempted to lose the last few coins on a fruit machine but it was one of those days – despite us not understanding the legend on the buttons coins kept on dropping out so eventually we decided it would be easier to drop the coins in one of those charity collections instead.

Back in Oulu a couple of locals had mentioned Antti Niemi  to us (and the certainty and impossibility respectively of him signing for us.) Apparently he is from Oulu. It certainly seems to be a very popular name around those parts. As we drove back to Luleå we passed signs to Maksniemi and Martinniemi (his brothers?), Rovaniemi (his dog?) and on the Swedish side of the border Niemisel, surely a thinly veiled hint to the Hearts board? Worse was to follow the next day when Fredrik Tervaniemi turned out in goal for Boden.

Anyhow we made good time to Luleå and a spectacular crash at Brands Hatch delayed proceedings on Eurosport so in the end we were left drinking our Finnish beer in the room whilst waiting to watch Lance Armstrong’s inevitable procession to victory.

Later on we visited O’Learys just to make sure it hadn’t burnt down over the weekend. It hadn’t. The rest of the LuleåAddicks had made it back safely and we all agreed to meet the following day around 2pm for the bus journey to Boden. We found another quiz machine and played Trivial Pursuit until the top 3 entries read "CharltononTop", "AddicksonTour" and "AddicksonTour" respectively.
 

The fifth labour of Hackenbush

We revisited Domus (where we’d bought the Sweden shirt) as I’d read on the Boden website that match tickets were on sale in the customer service department. Amazingly they were, and the lady behind the counter even knew what we were talking about.

Shortly afterwards we saw Ian Cartwright and his gang on their way into O’Learys, somewhat early for 2pm, so we headed of for another lap of the sports shops. After that Mark and Steve opted for O’Learys whilst Garry, Richard and myself partook of coffee in an internet café and checked for news on the web.

Eventually we accepted the inevitable and strolled round to O’Learys for a few pre-bus beers. Soon all the LuleåAddicks were assembled and eventually we strolled round to the bus station for the 3:30 bus. It pulled in on time (complete with toilet, luckily). In honour of the occasion Ian Cartwright was presented with a commemorative bus timetable signed by all the other LuleåAddicks.

The bus journey took just under an hour and we arrived opposite the ground and strolled back into town, where we very quickly located Kevin Hopkins sat outside a café cum bar. Boden is a very quiet town and probably not used to such volumes of guests but the one young waitress coped admirably and all the faithful were well and fed and watered before it was time to stroll back to the ground.

Boden is a garrison town. Where there were gaps in the hedge inside the perimeter fence camouflage netting had been hung up to prevent the stingy from getting a view of the game. Inside the ground we found a tank on display, photo opportunity, before we helped in handing out the CAFC caps and scarves to the local youngsters. It was like feeding piranha. First all the stuff with Swedish flags went, quickly followed by the Finnish and Danish. (Quite why scarves with Danish flags should be required on a Swedish/Finnish tour no-one understood.) The hawkers outside did good business too, and the highlight of the evening proved to be watching this mass of humanity (5014 spectators) streaming away with red and white everywhere.

By kick-off the weather had cleared completely and it was bright sunshine. Charlton were two goals up in 2 minutes 5 seconds and the game was effectively over. A knock to Scott Parker required Andy Jones’ attention and (with the benefit of outside assistance in the form of the hotel chef) he was able to shake off the earlier disappointment at the lack of pies and respond to the cries of  "who ate all the moose?" by flinging some indescribable local lapp delicacy in the direction of the Addick faithful.

At half-time Mark, Paul Elllis and myself were collared by a local journalist eager to know why we bothered to travel such a distance for a friendly. The 

coverage in "Kuriren" the following day was perhaps not entirely accurate in terms of attributing quotes, but the last 2 sentences –"For these are real football lovers. Hooligans – not as far as the eye can see" suggested the Addick faithful had managed to add to rather than detract from the club’s PR onslaught.

After a late flurry of activity left us 5-1 victors the faithful gathered for a crowd photograph – to be taken by the official tour part seeing as they were more numerous than we were. Claus Jensen and Mark Fish joined us for the session with Gary ?? taking the photos. On the way out I was collared by an eager local football supporter and ended up having to rush after all the others. As I fled I heard a call of ""Hackenbush" (it’s on the back of my shirt) behind me. Turning round I saw Claus Jensen and Feesh grinning inanely and waving at me. I waved back and walked off again. Once more came the cry of "Hackenbush". Once more I turned round to see Feesh grinning at me.

Standing at the bus station waiting for the 21:40 to Luleå someone noticed that the timetable mentioned "Boden Medborgerplatsen" but not "Busstation" so we started hiking. At the first bus stop there was one person waiting. "Does the no. 28 stop here?" I asked him in my best Swedish. "I only speak English mate" came the reply, which was a bit strange because Patrick Coffey, ex-gooner, claimed to have been a resident of Luleå since 1994.

Back at O’Learys we had an end-of-tour party of sorts. The CAFC cap Richard had managed to hide from the Swedish piranha kids was half-inched by a Swedish barmaid and it took a concerted effort on the part of the staff to evict the singing masses. By then we’d discovered a second game of Trivial Pursuit and with a bit of help from Patrick we’d installed "AddicksonTour", "AddicksonTour2" and "AddicksonTour" as 1st, 2nd and 3rd on the millenium edition hall of fame.

The sixth labour of Hackenbush

We got to the airport in good time and were relieved. The arrival of the official tour party had caused queues. We eventually got checked in and managed to get 5 seats together. The sixth was occupied by Sasa Ilic. After briefly attempting to pump me for "tax advice" he spent the second half of the flight in what he described as a "power nap".

The Stockholm-Heathrow flight was far from full with plenty of room to rattle around in the back, and we arrived before the 17:50 scheduled time despite the late departure from Stockholm caused by the loading of the huge amount of Andy Jones’ equipment.

 Back at Heathrow reality came home, though. An inexplicably interminable wait in the baggage reclaim was followed by a Piccadilly line trip which ground to a complete halt somewhere near Northfields. Back at Kings Cross the Cambridge train was 20 minutes late so the UK sun had gone to bed and it was getting dark when the taxi dropped me off back home.

All in all though it was a fun week and as I write this Gillingham awaits me as an appetiser for next weekend’s trip to Kerkrade.