The European Championships in Germany had been long anticipated by English fans, still haunted by the heartbreak of 2021’s final against Italy on home soil. For my Dad Paul, and me, it was no different. We were lucky enough to have attended every home match of that tournament, from the eerie, limited-capacity opener against Croatia to the unforgettable pain of Bukayo Saka’s saved penalty in a near-full Wembley Stadium.

By late 2022, as the European Qualifiers were announced, my Dad and I began planning our trip to Germany. Due to his shift work, we had penciled in just the final group-stage match—and the final itself, should England make it there! After fast-forwarding through England’s undefeated qualifying run, we finally learned our group-stage opponents on December 2, 2023. 

The very next day, after countless hours refreshing the Eurostar website, we secured our tickets. Trains were booked via Brussels, and we were all set for Cologne and England vs. Slovenia! It would be our first football trip abroad together—and I couldn’t wait.

25th June 2024

Arriving in the heart of Germany’s fourth-largest city, we were immediately immersed in the warm embrace of football culture that filled the air. It might sound like a cliché to say football was everywhere—but it truly was. From street art to face painting and bustling fan parks, the atmosphere was electric. After sharing a beer and a traditional currywurst, we soaked it all in before making our way to the nearest U-Bahn station to catch a train to the RheinEnergie-Stadion. However, Neumarkt station was packed to the brim, so I had the bright idea of taking the train one stop away from the stadium in hopes of finding less crowded carriages. “Great idea!” Dad said, fully on board. How little we knew. Heumarkt was even worse—it seemed to be the designated departure point for Slovenia’s fans. Walking in there in our England polo shirts felt like crashing a Unity Day celebration in Ljubljana with insults in hand. As we squeezed onto the packed train, a burly Slovene grunted in broken English, “You two… very brave!” Exchanging uneasy glances, we raised our eyebrows in suspense. The train doors shut, and we began the sweltering, un-air-conditioned 20-minute journey toward the stadium. Any tension melted away, though, as the Slovenians broke into their national anthem and an endless repertoire of chants, turning the ride into a good-natured spectacle.

Upon arriving at the stadium and grabbing a few more beers (unlike in England, you can take them to your seats in German stadiums—result!), it was time for kickoff. The match itself was lacklustre, with England’s performance stale and ending in a goalless draw. Still, the result secured our place in the knockouts, and that was all that mattered!

6th July 2024

Fast forward to just under two weeks later, and I was celebrating my 19th birthday with my family as we watched the nail-biting penalty shootout against Switzerland on TV. It was excruciating, but eventually victorious! One last hurdle remained if we wanted to make the final—the Dutch—and we conquered it, of course in classic England fashion. With Dad at work, I was entrusted with his credit card and given strict instructions to book the cheapest flight possible if we won. So, when Ollie Watkins’ shot hit the back of the net, my finger hit ‘confirm’ before the final whistle had even blown! Those last few minutes of the match were some of the most nerve-wracking, genuine heart-in-the-mouth moments of my life. By Saturday, we were off again—with another trip to Cologne via plane, followed by a six-hour train journey to Berlin. Was it the cheapest option? Yes. The longest? Almost certainly. And it definitely felt like it!

13/14th July 2024

As we stepped off the Eurowings flight onto German land for the second time that summer, we were met with cheerful “Auf Wiedersehen” wishes and good luck from the German aircrew, though their smiles carried a hint of lingering bitterness after their national team’s semi-final loss to our upcoming opponents, Spain. Our excitement was through the roof, making the six-hour train journey feel like it flew by! Or so we wished. In reality, we passed the time chatting with fellow England fans from across the country, trading light-hearted banter with the Spaniards, and carefully rationing a single can of ‘very berry’ cider among ourselves. With no bar on board, that lone drink had to last the entire trip!

Alas, Berlin was near, and the evening was winding down. For us, however, the adventure was just beginning. After navigating through our hotel and dropping off our bags, we managed to catch a local kebab shop moments before it closed. There, we shared a beer and a ridiculously spicy ‘Döner’ before heading back to the hotel for what we thought would be an early night. That plan quickly unraveled when we bumped into other England fans in the foyer. What started as a quick chat about tomorrow’s nights match turned into a lively exchange that saw us heading to bed at a bleary quarter to six in the morning. Shattered and running on just three and a half hours of sleep, we woke to find game day had finally arrived. With a quick shower and a much-needed coffee, we hopped on the U-Bahn into Berlin’s city center. Although football was at the forefront of everyone’s minds, we set it aside for the morning to pay our respects at the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe museum.

Visiting the memorial was a profoundly moving experience. It was a really powerful reminder of the history of the country we were in, and the importance of reflection and respect, even amidst the excitement of the tournament. With those sobering thoughts of reflection still fresh in our minds, we made it back into the heart of the capital, where the vibrant festival atmosphere of football awaited us once more. 

Not long after, we found ourselves in need of a quick stop for a toilet break. Spotting a nearby hotel with an underground car park, we headed in and took a lift up, hoping to find facilities. What we didn’t expect, however, was to step out of the lift and find ourselves inside the UEFA representatives hotel! It was an unexpected twist in our day, but one that quickly became unforgettable.

Initially taken aback, we decided to make the most of this accidental discovery and headed to the bar for a drink. What followed was nothing short of extraordinary. Nearby, I spotted none other than the gentleman responsible for conducting all UEFA competition draws, Giorgio Marchetti. Nervously, I approached him and to my surprise, he was more than happy to chat. Giorgio was kind enough to share his fascinating insights on the game and the tournament as a whole, offering us a rare glimpse behind the curtains of European football. Just as we were digesting that surreal moment, in traditional Mr Clouseau fashion, in walked Arsène Wenger, the legendary former Arsenal manager and one of our lifelong footballing idols. To our amazement, he also took the time to chat with us, offering his thoughts on the match ahead. For two lifelong Arsenal fans, it was a surreal and unforgettable moment.

From there, both star struck and amazed, we made our way to the iconic Olympiastadion, Berlin’s historic temple of football. Outside the stadium, the pre-match atmosphere was simply electric. Queuing to enter the stadium felt like an age, but as soon as we passed through the first security checkpoint, the energy of the event finally succumbed and hit us. Fans from all corners of England and Spain and even lucky neutral fans mingled on the beautiful grass moat which surrounds the stadium, their chants and laughter filling the air. Among the colourful crowd, we couldn’t help but notice a group of Scottish fans amusingly dressed in Scotland kits with Spanish face paint, fully embracing the fun of the occasion, and of course mocking England whilst doing so. We had a quick chat with one of them, his Scotch humour as sharp as ever, before moving on to speak with some actual Spain fans to get their take on the game. Their enthusiasm was contagious, and they offered some valuable insights on their team’s form and expectations.

Inside the Olympiastadion, the energy was even more palpable. It felt like the perfect stage for such a prestigious event. Whilst the players warmed up, the roar of the Three Lions’ fans rose. Then, a display of both national anthems from patriotic fans was followed by the referee’s whistle. Kick off. A vast sea of red and white-clad England supporters filled the stadium, vastly outnumbering their Spanish counterparts, all united in the hope that the heartbreak of 2021 would not be repeated.

With just 17 minutes left on the clock and England chasing the game, Cole Palmer’s composed finish ignited a surge of confidence among the Three Lions faithful. The atmosphere crackled with renewed belief. Yet, just 13 minutes later, misery struck as Mikel Oyarzabal delivered the decisive blow, putting a superior Spain side within touching distance of the trophy. England’s despair was sealed moments later on the referee’s final whistle, as the familiar sting of falling short on Europe’s biggest stage once again became their reality.

For Dad and I, the all-too-familiar pain of seeing our nation fall short once again hit even harder this time—especially knowing we weren’t at Wembley Stadium, just 20 minutes from home on the Met Line. Yet, as we boarded the U-Bahn back to the hotel, the weight of the defeat slowly gave way to reflection and laughter. We looked back on the unforgettable moments of our European football adventure: from the burly Slovene’s playful warning to our surreal encounter with Arsène Wenger. The result might not have gone our way, but we couldn’t help but feel grateful to have been part of it all. 

With memories made and firmly etched in our minds, we packed our bags the next morning and braced ourselves for another six-hour train ride back to Cologne. From there, it was a flight home to London, ending a trip we’d never forget. 

So, despite heartbreak once again for England fans, it was a summer where we all dreamed. Now, all eyes turn to the USA, Canada, and Mexico in 2026, where hope will rise again. Perhaps, with a German at the helm in Thomas Tuchel, the Three Lions can finally end their trophy drought and bring the World Cup home—60 years after that historic and only triumph in 1966.