“Saigon … s***, I’m still in Saigon.”
Well, Albufeira, actually, but my hangover I woke up with felt like I was entrapped in a 1970s Vietnamese jungle. Such a situation wasn’t helped by the screams of two fellow Fulham fanatics that seemed louder than when the Whites score in front of the Hammersmith End. Turns out, they felt I should be up and about at 10am. Cheers for that, fellas.
I hadn’t drunk the whole of Albufeira, but the Fulham invaders have left their mark on the place. The local diet isn’t peri peri chicken and Portuguese vino as much as frozen pizza, steak sarnies and egg. Maybe London’s oldest professional football club isn’t as classy as I previously thought. There’s no caviar, Mr. Mackintosh, and the cheeseboards and Victoria sponge are absent too.
Three days of drinking have taken their toll, especially as I’m not much of a big boozer myself. Cervejas were surrendered in favour of iced coffees, whilst gave way to a more chilled smoking substance. Turns out that will remove the heaviest hangover. Not illegal over here, officer, if Scotland Yard’s superb football policing unit are logging on over the summer.
I worried I wasn’t in the best shape to join The Green Pole’s Monday club, especially as Jack Kelly had only just stepped off the plane. He’d missed the Forest game as he was best man at a good friend’s wedding. I enjoyed enthusing about an excellent Fulham performance as well as praising our gracious Josh King. That 45 minutes was the best I’ve seen from our teenage trequartista in a white shirt. Fair to say to that Jack and I disagreed on Reiss Nelson, Raheem Sterling and the potential departure of Adama Traore that seems to have left desperate Dan bawling into his Boston beer.
Hopefully, I did a decent enough job of babbling on about the boys. Our third night was much the same as what went before: up went the Fulham flags before the pre-drinking got underway on the balcony. We spread the word according to Marco Silva all the way across what now feels like Albu-Fulham, especially as even more Whites watchers had foolishly parted with their cash to see the second game of the tour.
The local ladies don’t seem to be that interested in what Silva will serve up against Al-Ittihad tomorrow. Our plans to take in the behind-closed doors friendly are still a little patchy. Scaling a hill near the Al-Ittihad training complex feels like hard work. The more likely option is to pay a local bar to put the game on. Only Fulham can frustrate their fans like this. One thing’s for certain, we’ll make the most of our European tour, and you can read all about in my Algarve Diaries Part Four.
CJ has kindly agreed to give us the insight track having travelled out to Portugal for Fulham’s pre-season tour. Part one and part two are required reading. Do check out his London’s Original output on Medium and subscribe to his YouTube channel.
