So Friday morning and a very early start. I was on the road south to Toulouse at 5.45. Even at that time, the Paris peripherique is intense. I guess there must be less vehicles on it, as it moves quicker, but those that are on it do not hang around. It is a real life version of the Wacky Races, a reference that might be lost of readers of a younger persuasion. Plenty of lorries to add to the mix. Lots of weaving in and out and some of the slip roads onto the peripherique lead to what is effectively a dead stop give way – they always get me. It is not as if you can really see what is coming up on the ‘slow’ lane to give you any option but to hit the brakes hard, just in case. It is not a wonderfully designed piece of road in terms of safety in places, and it seems habitual that there is always a turned upside down car and closed lanes whenever I seem to use it.

However, on this morning, I negotiated it without delay and headed south to the wonderful city of Toulouse. A seven hour drive. Madness. What was I thinking when I worked out this schedule? I know David Dein is seeing more matches than I am, but he is flying around in his private jet. Anyhow, the journey down reminded me a bit of the 1998 World Cup, when I was travelling around with the now sadly deceased Alister Campbell. I think I could possibly write a book on that trip, such were some of the stuff he pulled off. The man was a walking disaster zone.

I recall we met up at Nantes, in our seats in the stadium to see Nigeria beat Spain 3-2. I had been out there 24 hours before he was and caught a game in Lens already. After the Nantes game, the fun began. He had driven over in an old Mercedes and left the lights on. Flat battery. We were in a car park for the stadium that had a shuttle bus running from it, but were finding trouble getting anyone with a pair of jump leads. Eventually, some Spanish guys turned up and had some, so we were able to get his car started. We had a long drive down to the Dordogne ahead of us, to a place where we were going to be based for most of the time we were out there. We stopped to watch Holland play (I think) Belgium in a rural bar, only for them to tell us they were closing at half time. We continued south. It was a long old trek and we were in separate cars – Alister in his Merc, and me in some nippy hire car. I recall us stopping for petrol at an automatic pump only to find out it would not accept anything but French credit cards. Fortunately, we both had just enough petrol to make the journey, but it was touch and go. Alister was leading the way as he knew the guy we were staying with and had all the directions. However, I will never forget the site of seeing him reading the map while at the wheel on a four lane motorway and slowly drifting from the slow lane across to the fast one without realising it, before he was given the horn by a guy racing up in the fast lane who almost hit him. The place we were staying at was in the middle of nowhere and I think we arrived around about 1.30am. No SatNav in those days. It took us quite a while to find it in the dark.

So back to 2016 and a far easier journey, at least until I hit traffic in Toulouse. The bridge I needed to cross to get to my hotel was blocked by the police due to the match (which was kicking off at 3pm) so I did what the locals were doing and used a bridge that was only supposed to be for buses to get across the river. My hotel was not allowing any check in until 3pm, but at least told me where the nearest car park was. Street parking was for a maximum of 2 hours, and then you had to buy another ticket. Not easy if you are in a football stadium watching the match. I would like to think there was an amnesty as some fans parked up on the street and I did not see them with parking tickets on the windscreen afterwards. 18 years ago, it was positively car friendly for the World Cup. Free parking and shuttle buses to the stadium from said car parks. And you could often park in the street without restrictions. Now, they discourage use of cars. Public transport is the watchword. Except of course if you are a UEFA big cheese in which case you get a police escort to the stadium in your limo.

Anyway, I parked up and made the walk to the stadium. Toulouse’s stadium is not a big one. It is situated on an island, and so low you cannot see it from distance. It is a bit of a walk from the city centre but not an onerous one. I recall running it with Alister back in 1998 when we were there to see Argentina face Japan and us getting in just as the national anthems were playing. A more leisurely approach this time. If I was going to be getting up at 5.15am to make the game, it certainly wasn’t going to be because I was going to cut it too fine. The stadium has changed very little from 18 years ago. Maybe some new seats, but that’s about it.

So Italy and Sweden. I recall seeing these two sides meet in the group stages of Euro 2004 in Porto and Ibrahimovic – who I was not fully aware of previously – scoring a wonder goal to equalise near the death of the game, which looked as if it was a 1-0 to Italy all the way. 12 years on, and the man has not really been able to achieve much in international tournaments since, quite often because his country have simply failed to make it. The sands of time are running out. These days, his colleagues are not of the standard that is likely to see them make too much of an impact. In 2004, they were eliminated on penalties by Holland in the quarter finals.

I kept an eye on Ibra for the course of the game. He is a special player. I saw PSG at Parc des Princes about 15 months ago and he was in great form that night. Against Italy though, he was largely, well, anonymous. He had one great chance to score close in, but put it wide. Italy, on the other hand, were simply more clinical when the opportunity arose. As against Belgium, they played it tight, ensuring they did not lose, got the goal eventually and then eat the clock. Get used to this, you will be seeing plenty of it in the Premier League next season when Antonio Conte rolls up at Chelsea. I will be interested to see if he uses his three at the back formation – which would allow John Terry to extend his career. Conte has taken keeper Buffon and his back three of Bonucci, Barzagli and Chiellini from Juventus and made it the base of the international side – or at least continued with them as all four have been internationals for an age, although not always in the formation favoured by Conte. And you have to say, it might not be pretty, but it is certainly effective. Italy have six points now, and you would hardly be shocked if they beat the Republic of Ireland in their final group match.

Football aside, I am pleased to report that it was a glorious sunny afternoon in Toulouse. The heavens did open later in the day, but if it was going to rain anytime, later is better. Oh, and if the vegetation near your football stadium is ever in need of watering with alcohol rich urine, Sweden are the team to invite. Their fans travel in incredible number and most of them seem to drink to excess –possibly in disbelief at the cheaper price of alcohol abroad. It’s all good natured stuff, no sign of trouble. And when it comes to peeing in the bushes, the girls are not particularly shy either. Needs must I guess. It was like an invasion anyway. Italy might be much closer to Toulouse, but they were well outnumbered.

The later matches that day were in Spain’s group. The Croatia v Czech Replublic game was on pay TV so I didn’t see that. It does sound as if there is an element of the Croatia fans that would like nothing better for their country to be thrown out of the tournament and it seems that it must be possible to get flares past the security searches. My guess is that they are being hidden down the front of trousers, the one place where body searches do not venture. Mark Clattenburg was in charge of that one. He refereed the Champions League final this season and I would not be surprised to see him get the final in this tournament. This of course assumes England are eliminated before the semi-finals, which you’d have to say would be par for the course.

I watched Spain vanquish Turkey in what at times resembled a bullfight, so one-sided was the game. So far, little question that Spain and Italy are the two best teams, but it’s early days. Tomorrow, I will relay the account of my eighth stadium out of the ten – in Bordeaux where I watched Belgium take on the Republic. I am not sure what time that will be online, but most likely late afternoon as I have a long old drive ahead of me to head to the north of France.

Until then….