Swede revenge in the England camp, now for Donetsk
This was no way to run a tight ship on a passage to the edge of Europe. I am sure the great course plotters, Marco Polo, Christopher Columbus, Ferdinand Magellan among them, were not obsessively results-driven like this Euro 2012 explorer. But following England guarantees that navigation into the proverbial Bermuda football triangle - aka Poland and Ukraine - is fraught with difficulties and frustrations.
Having a mare with the score and maps, we were - England and I. First, the campsite cafe-bar where I watched the England game was near empty except for some retired French watching France dismantle Ukraine after the Donetsk deluge, and a few Russians and Germans.
Shattered after a long drive back from Gdansk and the Ireland vSpain game, and late because of extra time spent in the port city's quaint old quarter listening to the hungover, sleepless Irish singing, I settled down to deride, like most of England, Hodgson's decision to play Andy Carroll and then enjoy victory over a creaking Sweden.
You never really know your fellow football supporters until you've watched the great game with them in the communal bar of a suburban Polish campsite. On kick off, the Russians started playing darts, pool and shuffling poker cards. The Germans were more respectful and settled down with a large beer and rubbed their hands, pretending to be on my side and declaring England were a strong team. The wine-supping French retirees gave me indifferent looks as I gently applauded the line-up (except Carroll).
Perhaps, one mused as the darts annoyingly thudded and the pool balls clicked, the disinterested Russians were colour blind and could not tell, given the yellow and blue kits, the difference between the pony-tailed Liverpool striker Carroll from the equally strapping but far more effective pony-tailed Ibrahimovic. But they shot looks at the TV screen when the lone England supporter - dropped Land Rover keys spinning across the floor - loudly whooped and clapped when Carroll rose like a dove on steroids and powerfully headed England in front. The Germans looked on blankly and the French cocked their heads and one said quietly to his friend: 'Les Anglais jouent bien.' Oui, and it was settled in my mind - it's off to Donetsk, then, on another 1000-mile ride to watch the Three Lions take Ukraine modestly to the cleaners, and finish top of group D and play Italy or Croatia in the quarter-finals, a simple task playing like that, surely.
Having witnessed the Spanish slay the Irish, England do not want to finish second. If they do, then in the quarter-finals they would face near-certain winners of group C, Spain, and then it would be early doors from the knockout stage.