Football Unites For Chapecoense

  I remember watching the Joga Bonito Nike adverts as a kid. Roberto Carlos, Ronaldo, Adriano and headliner Ronaldinho toying with a ball in a dressing room like a group of mates on a street corner. They oozed something we didn't have - and still don't - in England. A playful, cheeky and very likeable arrogance. The ball was their toy and they were only interested in entertaining. The Harlem Globetrotters of football. This Brazilian culture has always acted on the cherry on top of the football cake, as they paint the beautiful game with their own attitude to life. We're here to enjoy life so let's have fun and do it with a smile.

  Any true football fan has a soft spot for the Brazilians. Whether we grew up with Pelé, Zico, Romario, Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, Kaka or Neymar, they winked at us as we mesmerised at their creative flair. It's always been a dream to see the Seleção play in their home country. I remember seeing them play a friendly against Scotland at the Emirates Stadium in 2011, and the vibrant yellow and green support was a joy to behold. The bellowing, passionate support throughout both the World Cup (until their 7-1 spanking) and the Olympics strengthened this respect further. I wanted to be a part of it.

  With this in mind, I was hot on the case when I saw tickets still available for a friendly between Brazil v Colombia. The match was a tribute match for those that tragically lost their lives a matter of weeks ago in the Chapecoense disaster in Colombia. 71 people died in the crash, including all-but-3 of the playing squad. It's not something thats magnitude will decline over time, and is one of the saddest incidents that the sporting world has ever seen. It brought football together as one, united body and the nature of this friendly highlighted that with all proceeds going to the families of those that lost their lives. My ticket only cost £11, but it was an honour to be part of the supporting fund.

A Cidade Maravilhosa

  I promise not all of my titles will be in Portuguese. Although keeping a travel blog on my Year Abroad might seem pretentious, I'm not that bad. Yet sometimes the natural linguistic form is the only viable path of description, and this is very much the case for the city of Rio de Janeiro. Translating to 'The Marvellous City', the native pet-name for Rio, certainly builds up a level of expectation, and crafts a paradisiacal mirage in your head of what awaits once that plane door opens*. Just the thought of that name infused me with a positive buzz when I was feeling slightly more sombre, having said goodbye to everyone at home again for another 6 months. Brazil awaited with open arms, with its biggest gem ready to welcome me to my new home.

Couldn't help myself...

  Also awaiting me were two of my best mates, Adam and Dan, who I previously explained had admirably flown out to Brazil in the midst of busy exam and work periods. Not a bad place to get away from it all, I'm sure they'd reassure you. We were staying in a lively hostel in Copacabana and, from the moment I saw the road signs, Barry Manilow's classic took a permanent residence in my head. There was no Lola and no showgirl though, unfortunately.

  We decided to hit the big dog on day three of the trip and went in search of the real JC. That's right, that guy in all the pictures. The attention seeker with his arms out all wide. There's two ways to reach Christ the Redeemer: bus or walk. Who would be stupid enough to walk in 40C heat? Three English blokes on a budget, that's who.

Bem Vindo Ao Brasil

  I'm currently sitting in a room that must be just under 3 metres long by 1.5 metres wide. It's about 30 degrees celcius and the time has just passed 10pm. I have a lovely layer of perspiration surrounding my body, squeezed out of me by the bullying heat. The open window is a speaker to the natural sounds of the local area - shouts, cars, the occasional bang. The location is Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro, and I am 11 days into the second half of my year abroad adventure. Guess who's back to join the fun? Oh yes. Everyone's favourite social-media spamming, shoved down your throat a million times, over-rated travel blog.

  Time to Make Some Mates is BACK people.

    Firstly I have a few apologies to make. Number one, to the country and people of Argentina. I left your wonderful land without writing a tribute post. I could've written a book gushing about the country and experiences it gave me, and an even bigger one of the people that put up with me for 6 months. You're all fantastic and I'm honoured to call Argentina my 'latino home'. The truth of the matter was that my planned time to write that piece was at the airport whilst awaiting for my departure. Unfortunately, in that exact moment, I was fighting the effects of a 30 hour all-nighter that was still very much ongoing (what a legend, I know), and therefore no writing was physically possible. But i love you all and I'll be back soon don't you worry. 

  Secondly, I apologise to all of those that I told I probably wouldn't be doing this for Brazil. I really didn't plan to... but at the end of the day when you're in a place like this too much weird s**t happens to ignore and my impulses to put it into words was prodded too many times by this new, Brazilian stick. I've also kinda realised that I should go back to pursuing my dream job, as a journalist. So if I ditched the blog now, it would look really very terrible to any future inquirers of my passion for the field. After many years, I'm finally thinking of my future - look at me go Mum & Dad (shoutout alert).

The Interview

  As my time here comes to a close, I saw it fit to attempt (key word) to try and initiate some sort of cultural exchange. I wanted to try and share some of what I've experienced with the Argentinean people here with people back at home. Now I could've put some serious effort into this and initially ideas were booming...

•  Organising and link with my old secondary school and the school I'm currently working at. 

•   Doing a spread of interviews with a range of different people that I've met here of all ages and sizes. 

•   Getting in touch with local English press. 

  Stardom was on the horizon...

  But, in reality, I just got tired listing those things let alone putting them into place; so subsequently it was traded for a Facebook post and getting five teenagers at school come and talk to me for 20 minutes in a break time. An equal substitution if you ask me. Also I thought putting something on Facebook would get a quality, sophisticated response. After all, I'd seen everyone's opinions and political analysis on Brexit and Donald Trump. Well...

 Looked like we were going for more of a James Franco to Kim Jong-Un approach to this 'cutting edge' interview. Either way, you've got to give the people what they want so I wrote up a list of questions including a mix of my own and my friends' inquisitions. Inevitably, on the day, I left the list at home so I pressed record with a blank page and just my own mind to carry me by. Always dangerous. 

  Luckily I was joined by some great kids, and their enthusiasm fused the interview and made it somewhat publishable! My guests for the day were (left to right) Diana, Ana, Mile Camila and Facundo - five of the school's 3rd grade of secondary (Year 10 equivalent I think). I allowed them to do the interview to be done in Spanish (semi-bribery on my part) and subsequently everything you're about to read has been translated and para-phrased (like my very own dictatorship...) but I've made sure to keep it as close to the original answers as possible. So here we go, enjoy! 

Becoming an Ultra - Step Two

  When I stepped onto the pitch of La Bombonera back in August it made such an impression that I wrote an article about it (doesn't take much to do that I know), but it was only just a taste. It was just a small canapé of one of the most famous institutions in world football. From that moment, I wanted the full dish. I wanted to live one of my biggest footballing dreams and watch Boca Juniors play at La Bombonera.

  I have spent the last three months sniffing out every possible avenue that would lead me to the cancha. Getting Boca Juniors tickets is no easy feat I must add. Due to extreme popularity, only socios (members/season ticket holders) can get tickets for matches. There is no online or in-person box office and you get in via your contacts - however authentic or, more likely, dodgy they may be.  

Waiting For The Call Up

  I looked at extortionately-priced tour packages - aimed at tourists that had no other route into the stadium but via a chunk in their wallets - but couldn't bring myself to pay £130+ for a football match that wasn't against River Plate (the renowned Superclásico). I spoke to Boca fans and even some socios trying to weasel my way into a ticket offer. I even got a few but in a more casual 'I'll take you to see Boca before you leave' sort of way. None of them quite came to the fore. 

  So chances were looking bleak. Could I really forgive myself if I'd come to Argentina, and spent a huge amount of time in Buenos Aires, without seeing Boca Juniors play? Hm, unlikely. Luckily a power above acknowledged my dilemma and sent me a contact through a friend. A contact with the golden ticket. My Willy Wonka was called Christian and was a socio and all-round Boca fanatic. He even used to play for the youth teams and had a cousin in the system at the moment. I was put in touch and I quickly agreed to buy two tickets for a match against Rosario Central - I was in and the dream was very much alive. 

Becoming An Ultra - Step One

  At every camp I counsel at, at most classes at school, with almost every social occasion I've been in here I've been asked the same question by Argentineans...

"¿De cual equipo sos en Argentina? ¿Sos de Boca? ¿Sos de River?"

As a football fan myself, I understand the essentiality of this question, which makes it all the more embarrassing when I'm forced to become the person I hate. 

"Erm, I don't really have one..." 

  Oh no, I'm part of that brigade now. The type of person that would say they support England if asked what team they support back at home. As football is such a religion over here, it's even less acceptable to be a fence-sitter, and your credentials as a football fan are limited without pledging your allegiance. At camps I have half-heartedly claimed to be a fan of Boca Juniors, Independiente or Estudiantes de La Plata, yet without feeling a true sense of belonging or dedication to either. The situation was getting desperate and something had to be done. 

Into the Final Third

  As somebody who is on a mammoth trip abroad, and somebody with an Apple smartphone, its only predictable that I have an application on my phone dedicated to a countdown. You know, the ones that you track the approaching of big upcoming events with big exaggerated numbers of months/days/hours/seconds/mili-seconds and so on. I actually only downloaded mine a few weeks ago and I haven't really been paying it much attention, but today I decided to take a look at it...

Flight to Argentina - 114 days, 15 hours, 57 minutes since 12th July 2016. 

Homecoming (Flight Home to the UK) - 44 days, 8 hours, 3 mins until 18th December 2016. 

  So I'm a month and a half away from heading home and ending my Argentinean adventure, well into the final third of my first half of my year abroad (all the fractions). This revelation gives me a mixed bag of emotions. I'm inevitably excited to fly back to the UK into the depth of British Christmas, to see family and friends for the first time in half a year, to be home. Yet an equal sense of sadness and panic set in when I realise my time in this incredible country is nearly up. 

6 weeks left in this beautiful
place.

  I'll be the first to admit that on leaving the UK I never expected to feel so at home on the other side of the World as I have done. If you'd asked me to predict my sense of feeling on the 3rd November, I would have guessed that I would be eager for the last month and a half to pass so I could jump on the plane back to the comfort of the UK. Yet my current emotion is one of stark parallel. 

 I feel more comfortable and more integrated here than ever, with a host of new friends and acquaintances (English and Argentinean) that it'll be sad to leave behind. There's a list of things to do and places to visit in this country that I'm running out of time to plan. The 18th December is as much a deadline as anything. So I thought I'd write this little update piece to outline some of my plans for the next 6 weeks before I head home to England.