Going into the most important match of the season, a Champions League quarter final second leg, the tie finely poised at 1-1 and a fantastic atmosphere likely at the Grove. Where do I find myself? Venice.

Venice isn’t a city known for its football. The local team are languishing in Serie B and have a stadium that looks so awful it wouldn’ t be fit for League Two. However in typical Italian style, there were fake shirts on every corner from dodgy stalls. Surprisingly, I found an AC Milan shirt with Senderos on the back. Unsurprisingly, they weren’t selling well at 15 euros. The city itself is known for culture, beauty and tradition. Famous for its canals and the isolation from surrounding water, I had to find somewhere to watch a vital Anglo- Spanish clash. The fact I was on a cultural family holiday was going to make football viewing hard to achieve, however I found more culture in a cut-off Irish pub than I anticipated.

Having had little experience of being placed in such a situation, I had to do some meticulous research to find somewhere to see the game. Google-ing Irish pubs in Venice came up with only two results, however one was extremely close to where I was staying. This would make getting away to watch the game easier. That pub was called the ‘Fiddlers Elbow’ and was in an isolated backstreet where only those desperate for a football fix would go.

Arriving at the pub just as the teams were in the tunnel was a great relief after unknowingly walking past it when trying to seek it out. There were four TV screens in there and three were showing Porto v Manchester United. Given the number of Mancunians in the bar it was no surprise Arsenal were on the smallest screen. No matter, I had a Guinness in hand and was watching the game.

Ten minutes later I had Mancunians screaming behind me when Ronaldo scored. Almost immediately, Theo scored a delightful chip to give us a vital lead. I was tempted to jump up and go mental, but being one of only two Gooners in there I was more restrained.

Five minutes later, some Americans walked in. Two average looking guys who sat down next to us two Gooners, asked if we spoke English and said they wanted to watch the Arsenal game. With four of us now watching one screen, the barman asked if we wanted to use the private room at the back of the pub with a massive screen. This enabled us to get away from the already overly confident Mancs and enjoy the game on a larger screen.

As it had been the first time I had to find somewhere in a foreign country to watch Arsenal, I was quietly surprised and happy we were sitting watching the game, in our own private room, with beers and the team were winning.

At half time we got to know the Americans a bit better. They were on a European tour after winning it gambling and weren’t actually that interested in football, except for Arsenal. Also, one of them had an unhealthy Star Wars addiction. Then, in a very American way, one of them stated he wanted to be a teacher, but hated all kids.

However entertaining these people were, it was important to remember we were still vulnerable at only 1-0 at half time. Fortunately, our humours were increased further as we played some great attacking football and scored two more goals. As there were joyous cries from our part of the pub, we could hear nervous United fans becoming increasingly agitated.

Unfortunately, Manchester United did make it through, however the more I thought about, we’ve already beaten them and Porto at home this season. It should be an epic tie in the semis.

We thanked the Americans for their company and made our way back to our accommodation. To be more Italian, we picked up some pizza on the way back. When asked by the others on the trip if we had a cultural experience, we said we watched an English team play a Spanish team, whilst in Italy, in an Irish bar and with some Americans. I thought that was just about as cultured as Robert Pires’ right foot.

It added to a list of strange places I’ve watched Arsenal in the Champions League this season. This includes school show rehearsals and a geography field trip when we stole the remote control so all those in the TV room had to watch Arsenal! Should we make it all the way to Rome, I’ll have to go somewhere random. Wherever I end up, I doubt it’ll be as cultured as the cut-off pub in Venice.