So, yesterday I was relaying the experience of watching Belgium beat the Republic of Ireland in Bordeaux on Saturday afternoon, and then I had a couple of days without a match in the Haute Garonne region south east of Toulouse.

This was a bad idea. Nice as it was, the reality is that I was working much of the time, beautiful as the area is. Fortunately the place I was staying in was effectively a bed and breakfast, and very high spec. So a nice environment with (critically for my work) the best wifi I have had at anywhere that I’ve stayed. I watched the France v Switzerland and England v Slovenia matches on my laptop, as there was no TV in the room.

France did what they had to by winning the group, and in truth, were playing half a second string side to do so. This was in reality a match between two sides who were happy to progress without expending too much in the way of energy. 0-0 draws aren’t usually the best of games, and lo and behold, the following night England provided another, in spite of dominating against Slovakia. Again, a few players were rested that might have made a difference, but to England’s cost, it meant their failure to win allowed Wales to win the group.

Subsequently, as we know, that means the England have landed themselves in the – on paper - rather trickier side of the draw. If Portugal conspire to win their group, then Woy's boys have a winnable last 16 game, then then it's most likely a quarter final against France, and then a semi against one of Germany, Spain or Italy. They have no chance of winning the tournament, as if anyone seriously believed they ever did.

Anyway, back to the bad idea of the two day break in the south of France. All good up to a point. Yesterday. Looking at the map and the travelling distances back last year when I worked out the route I would take to cover all ten stadiums, I thought nothing of a drive of just short of 1000 kilometres to get to Lille from where I was staying – a small town named Ravel. At 130km an hour on the motorway, I’d eat that up. However, even the satnav was telling me that it was a nine and a half hour drive, and that without stopping.

Hmmmm. Well, when you have no choice, it is amazing what you can achieve, but I thought during the journey, why didn’t I think this through properly? I should have left Bordeaux on Sunday morning and stopped somewhere halfway between there and Lille for two nights instead of heading across the south west of France. Then, a reasonable drive yesterday to reach Lille on the day of the Lens game. Ah well, you live and learn. The ball of my right foot – used for the accelerator – was in pain quite a bit, felt like there was a blister on it although it was just sore – something I have had on a couple of other long drives on this trip. And then glory of glories, at about 4pm the satnav sends me onto the Paris peripherique in the rush hour. Why I didn’t just follow the signs to Lille on the motorway I do not know. Maybe because they were clogged up too. It was painful, but I managed to clear Paris after about an hour and a half. The drive through the Dordogne itself was very pleasant, even on the motorway, and I passed a number of Welsh fans returning from their game against Russia in Toulouse.

I realized that checking in at Lille before the game and returning to Lens was not really feasible, so parked up in Lens about 15 minutes walk from the stadium at around 7.30. The game was the 9pm kick off here. I listened to the Germany v Northern Ireland game on the radio with excited French commentary, and understood enough to get that Germany were 1-0 up by the time I reached Lens.

All the pre-publicity about Lens being a small town and car parking not being an option were quickly dispelled. There were no shortage of spaces. Perhaps this might not have been the case when England played Wales here, I will grant you, but for the Czech Republic and Turkey? Pick your spot.

I made the walk to the stadium. Arsenal fans who came here in 1998 and 2000 will remember the local police not being the friendliest of types and nothing’s changed. There were plenty of them lining the route to the stadium from the centre of town.

For this match, my seat was in the lower tier right behind the goal next to where the Czech contingent were gathered. I was in row 23, although could not see the near goal-line due to advertising hoardings. There were only three rows behind me and I am confident they couldn’t see the goal-line either. I am sure this isn’t a problem for domestic matches as they wouldn’t have such hoardings, but it isn’t ideal. No matter, I was far back enough to get a decent perspective on the play at the other end and even better, I was sitting behind a huge entrance presumably in place to allow ambulance access. There was only one row in front of me and the occupants were good enough to actually sit through the game, preserving me from backache that comes with standing for two halves of a football match in a confined space.

Lens’ stadium is a proper football ground. It generates a good atmosphere and both sets of supporters were highly vocal. I am sure it was the same when England played Wales here. However, I could have done without the stench of urine in the air which was coming from some unidentified source. Not sure what that was about. There was some presumed attempt at racism from one of the Czech fans towards the Turks in the neutral section, with periodic chants of ‘Asia, Asia’, which the perpetrator I can only assume regarded as a put down. No one else joined in and no-one really responded. Red dominated the stadium, with only the national flags marking out who was supporting who in the neutral areas. Turkey’s actual strip was a light shade of blue, which didn’t feel quite right. What’s wrong with a white strip and some red trim?

It was the Czechs, in their traditional red, that had a very realistic chance of getting to the last 16 if they won this match. Turkey, less so, unless they thumped the Czechs to improve their goal difference. And in the first half, the Czechs had far more chances. But the story of this match was that Turkey were simply far more clinical. Their opening goal was a corker. Simple pass into space from wide and a first time rocket finish that gave Petr Cech no chance.

I spent the last ten minutes of the first half peering through my binoculars at a disturbance between Turkish fans in the upper tier at the other end. I have no idea what it was about, but it all seemed very excited and needed a lot of stewards to separate the warring factions. It calmed down just before half-time.

The Czechs had hit the post from a header, but other than that, their attempts were easy meat for the keeper or fired wide. In the second half they did not seem to have much to offer. Tomas Rosicky was on the bench and remained there. Turkey scored a second goal and delirium, and a good number of flares in the Turkish section, ensued, including a couple thrown onto the pitch. Alda Turan went over to try and persuade the fans not to chuck any more on, presumably fearing UEFA sanctions. I am sure there will be a token fine. I am uncertain how dangerous flares are. One of my most vivid memories of the tournament though, is some kind of rocket / flare that was launched from the Russian fans in Marseille at the conclusion of the game against England. It went the length of the pitch and was headed towards the England section, but landed just short. Seeing it fly through the air though was worrying. I recall a Wales fan was killed by something similar, fired across the pitch by another Wales fan in the 1990s.

Anyway, back to the football. The Czechs huffed and puffed, but did not seem to have any real inspiration. I was fascinated thought, to see a certain Oğuzhan Özyakup enter the fray as a Turkish sub. Ring any bells? Yes, one of Arsenal’s youths that was sold on after a League Cup appearance. Forging quite a career now for himself at Besiktas. An attacking midfielder. He wasn’t on long enough for me to really draw any conclusions in fairness.

So Turkey salvaged some pride from their tournament and a slim hope of progress to the last 16 if the results this evening work out for them. I made the short drive to Lille to check in and get a seriously welcome good night’s sleep. One more game and one more stadium to go and I’ll have done the set. Lille for Italy v Republic of Ireland – thoughts on that tomorrow morning before I head back to Blighty.