Euro 2016 Final: Éder strikes as Portugal break their duck

EURO 2016 

Preview - Results - Final

Portugal 1 Éder 109 
France 0
After extra time



Portugal Rui Patricio - Cedric, Pepe, Fonte, Guerreiro - William Carvalho - Renato Sanches (Eder 79), Adrien Silva (Moutinho 66), Joao Mario - Nani, Ronaldo (Quaresma 25) Booked Cedric, Joao Mario, Guerreiro, William Carvalho, Jose Fonte, Rui Patricio Subs not used Bruno Alves, Carvalho, Vierinha, Anthony Lopes, Danilo, Andre Gomes, Rafa Silva, Eliseu, Eduardo.
France Lloris - Sagna, Koscielny, Umtiti, Evra - Pogba, Matuidi - Sissoko (Martial 110), Griezmann, Payet (Coman 58) - Giroud (Gignac 78) Booked Umtiti, Matuidi, Koscielny, Pogba Subs not used Jallet, Rami, Kante, Cabaye, Schneiderlin, Mangal, Mandanda, Digne, Costil
Attendance 75,868 at Stade de France, Saint-Denis Referee Mark Clattenburg (England)
Kick-off 8pm BST. Live on BBC and ITV1.

PORTUGAL won their first major international trophy after former Swansea City flop Éder struck in extra time to break French hearts.

Substitute Éder failed to score in any of his 15 appearances for the Swans last season but lashed a raking shot from 25 yards to win a low-quality contest at the Stade de France in Saint-Denis.

France, of course, had been looking for a third success as hosts having previously won Euro 1984 and World Cup 1998 on home soil.

But it was the Portuguese - and their injured talisman Cristiano Ronaldo - who eventually prevailed in a match which neatly summed up the weaknesses of this expanded 24-team tournament as a whole.

It would be fair to say, as feared, the expansion has not really worked. The format meant a single win was likely to take a team through - with only Turkey and Albania missing out on this basis. 

Portugal, meanwhile, managed to qualify without a group stage victory, Slovakia satisfied themselves with a 0-0 draw against England, and Northern Ireland were even able to celebrate a narrow defeat - albeit against Germany.

Overall, far too many of the group games were tight, tense affairs, usually more readily found in the latter stages of a tournament. In total, there were just 108 goals in 51 games. 

That is a paltry average of 2.12 per match (compared to 2.67 at the last World Cup) - and, though there were only four 0-0 draws, a further 13 matches featured just a single goal.

UEFA truly needs to learn that sometimes less can be more - though having already made the move to 24 teams, it is unlikely the governing body will go back to more easily divisible 16.

After all, the tournament on some levels has been a success. The matches have captured the attention and imagination of a scarred French public, and there have been some truly magical stories featuring some of the supposed lesser nations such as Iceland and Wales. 

On a personal level, my trip to Lille for five days during the tournament will remain a highlight of my year. The fan camp and the city were largely well organised, and there was hardly any sign of the sort of trouble which the British newspapers would have you believe was commonplace.

It is just a shame that the fun off the pitch was not mirrored by a greater quality of play on it.

Back to the Final anyway - and, though it will be little remembered now, France actually started reasonably well.

On 10 minutes, semi final hero and tournament top scorer Antoine Griezmann sent a looping header towards goal which was tipped over by Rui Patricio.

From the resultant corner, Arsenal striker Olivier Giroud headed straight at the grateful Portuguese goalkeeper.

Then, in the 17th minute, there appeared to be a critical twist. Ronaldo nastily clashed knees with West Ham United's Dmitri Payet - and, a couple of minutes later, the Real Madrid man went down in pain again.

Still attempting to carry on at first, he was forced to admit defeat five minutes later, and was replaced by Ricardo Quaresma.

A capacity crowd in the Stade de France sensed the match was now there for the taking - but the team on the pitch looked tense and, bar a Moussa Sissoko shot straight at the goalkeeper, created little as the first half faded to a close.

The early stages of the second period were more of the same before the game was livened up by the introduction of winger Kingsley Coman.

Within moments of coming on, Coman released Griezmann but the Atletico Madrid striker again shot straight at Rui Patricio.

And then Griezmann was guilty of missing a gilt-edged chance, heading over from just six yards from an excellent Coman cross.

Unfortunately, thereafter, France failed to kick on and use the little momentum which they had built up.

Portugal began to look ever more dangerous on the counter with Hugo Lloris forced to save from Nani and an acrobatic effort from Quaresma in quick succession.

However, the last big chance of normal time fell to the hosts. Andre-Pierre Gignac twisted and turned into a good position before hitting his shot off the face of the post.

Time had ticked by, slowly for much of the game, and it seemed destined that this underwhelming tie would be decided in extra time.

Sadly, in the first 15 minutes of the additional period, the match got little better.

The Portuguese provided the only vaguely exciting moment in that first half when Lloris saved well from eventual match-winner Éder. 

Nevertheless, it was beginning to become clear which way this match was swinging. 

Consett-born referee Mark Clattenburg had enjoyed a largely uneventful evening - but definitely got one of his decisions wrong by giving a Portugal free-kick when it was actually Éder who had handled.

It could have been costly with Raphaël Guerreiro smacking the resulting effort off the bar - but, within a minute, Portugal did take the lead.

Éder's goal left France little more than 10 minutes to get back into the match, but - in a tournament of dramatic, late goals - Les Bleus never looked like conjuring one.

Indeed, Portugal could have gone further ahead if Paul Pogba had not brought down Joao Mario and if Bacary Sagna had not intercepted a shot from the same player.

Cruelly perhaps, for France, there was one last scrambled effort as Anthony Martial - brought on in extra time - attempted a shot from the edge of the box.

However, it never looked like piercing the mass of bodies in front of it and, on heading into two minutes of injury time, this looked destined to be Portugal's night.

So it was - and, though it could not be said for them in the tournament as a whole, so it deserved to be on the night.

Portugal had a clear game plan and stuck to it, even if their tactics were never going to make the purists purr - and, finally, in their 35th match in European Championship finals history, they had won the trophy.

England - generally poor in France and absolutely atrocious against Iceland in the last 16 - now hold the unwanted crown of having played the most games at the European Championships without winning them.

That streak already stands at 31 and seems likely to go far beyond the Portuguese total in the years ahead.

Nonetheless, it is impossible to get away from the fact that Portugal are surely one of the poorest teams to have ever won an international tournament.

Ahead for only 73 minutes of the whole campaign, A Seleção qualified for the latter stages by drawing their three group games, beating Croatia in extra time, and then Poland on penalties.

A merited victory over spirited Wales was their only win inside 90 minutes but, once it became clear that France were not going to hit the form which had carried them past Iceland and Germany, another workmanlike performance was always going to give Portugal a chance.

It is a chance which they have gratefully taken - but, except for joyous Portuguese and the heartbroken French, this was a forgettable end to a largely drab four weeks.

Roll on 5 August - the start of the new domestic football season as well as the next big event of the year, the 2016 Olympic Games in Rio de Janeiro.

Turning 30 in Prague: a perspective

Time ticks by... the Astronomical Clock in the Old Town Square, Prague

THE BEAUTIFUL surroundings in the city of Prague are where I decided to celebrate my 30th birthday, a choice inspired by two previous visits to the Czech capital.

Prague is a magical place to someone like me, someone who fancies himself as a bit of an amateur history buff and a big fan of quality beer.

Of course, a 30th birthday is seen as a bit of a landmark, usually signifying an end to sprightly youthfulness and the onset of middle age.

I have no doubt that it was all in good humour - but a September birthday has the consequence of me being one of the oldest in my school year and, among my long-term friends on the trip, there were inevitable 'old man' jokes at my expense.

Additionally, one of my cards warned that it was "all downhill from here" - and, in certain senses, that prediction looks rather grimly accurate.

A difficult morning in Prague was described brilliantly by one of my friends as "the hangover of [my] past 29 years".

But, while I have noticed my hangovers nowadays hit me worse than ever, I have found that there are actually some advantages to my advancing years.

It is an unfortunate fact that my 20s, and particularly my late 20s - while featuring so many fantastic memories that it would be impossible to list them all - have also been set in the context of my issues with panic and generalised anxiety.

Last year, ridiculously, I almost missed the trip of a lifetime to Thailand, and the most significant repeat episode this year left me dangerously dosed up and debilitated in Dublin on diazepam. It later even affected my ability to work, too.

Indeed, my head was so all over the place that I even stopped doing something which I find that I really enjoy: writing this blog.

Thankfully, I backtracked on that particularly rash decision and I am still getting help through a therapist with the underlying causes of my anxiety.

Specifically, it is a lack of self-confidence derived from the core belief that I just cannot and will not cope with the various challenges which life will always throw at me.

Now, of course, there is a whole stack of evidence in my life to the contrary of that belief - and my sessions with the practitioner aim for me to focus on this. They also challenge and rid me of certain 'safety' behaviours which I consider help me but actually ensure my problems persist.

Armed with the facts, it is amazing just how far a different perspective in life can take you.

This summer, I visited three other capital cities - Budapest in Hungary, Zagreb in Croatia, and Ljubljana in Slovenia - with barely an ounce of anxiety, and happily my visit to Prague was a similarly unspoiled experience.

I drank in various beer halls - U Medvídků, U Fleků, and U Vejvodů among my favourites, and visited the excellent Klášterní Pivovar Strahov and the unmissable Beer Museum - twice.

I went to the Museum of Communism, amusingly situated next to McDonalds, and - across the glorious Karlov Most - to the Franz Kafka Museum to learn about a writer even more tortured by his inner demons than myself.

Finally, I scaled the heights of the Powder Tower, and then Prague's most famous landmark, the medieval Astronomical Clock in the Old Town Square.

Yes, it was rather apt that the entry into my 30s was marked in a place so indelibly linked with the passing of time.

And, as I reflect on this most special of birthdays, I will confidently predict to give myself an easier ride in my 30s than my 20s.

It is time to ensure turning 30 in Prague was simply a milestone in life - and not another millstone.

Thank you to all my family and friends who have listened to me, helped me out, and just asked me how I was. The cloud is lifting and I am getting better at this crazy thing called life.

End of the line: my ongoing battle

TODAY I went to work - there's nothing particularly remarkable about that in the grand scheme of things, of course.

Except that it was actually quite a big step for me. Things haven't been going so well recently and I have slipped back into old habits.

My propensity to panic had never really gone away - but, since March, I had become so overwhelmed that I felt powerless to stop a series of attacks which have debilitated me.

There were three notable occurrences one after another, each one hitting me harder than the last. Basically, I was back to square one, exactly how I felt before I went to Thailand.

Once again, I sought professional help and, I am not ashamed to admit for the first time that I accepted the need to take a regular anti-depressant drug.

Additionally, I was signed off work for six weeks from the start of April, and I am on a waiting list for another bout of therapy.

But, as a good friend pointed out, taking drugs and attending therapy will only get me so far, and some concrete changes to my lifestyle will be required.

Indeed, the time off work - other than driving me up the wall in sheer boredom, hence my early return - has led me to reappraise my life somewhat. I found plenty of room for improvement.

For example, I was drinking far too much - not necessarily heavily on each occasion but regularly (almost every night) and then there were weekend binges on top.

My diet and intake of food also needs to be reviewed, I think, and there are other issues like a total lack of self-esteem which I would rather not comment on further in a public forum.

The only other one to mention for now, relevant to this blog, is that I spend far too much time on the internet when I could be doing other more productive things.

Consequently, after more than four years and over 400 posts, this is going to be my final entry on TheIntrepidReporter blog.

Before I go, though, and without wishing to appear vainglorious, I would like to put on record just how immensely proud I am of this blog.

It may have lost its original purpose sometime ago but that has not left it any less fun updating what has been a fairly eventful few years.

After all, since I started in 2009, there has been a change in government here in the UK but more of the same in the United States, scandal in the national media and decline in the local press.

In sport, I have celebrated the biggest party of my lifetime last summer; not just one England victory in the Ashes - but two; and I have recounted how the favourites won the most recent editions of the football, cricket and rugby World Cup. In golf, Europe has won the Ryder Cup - again not just once but twice - while, in tennis, Andy Murray became Britain's first male Grand Slam winner for 76 years.

Meanwhile, my beloved Newcastle United have been relegated, promoted, thumped the mackems, got back in Europe, and horrendously got thumped back by the mackems. Still, it is reassuring to know that life is rarely dull at St James Park.

In all probability, there have not been nearly enough posts on this blog about my personal situation. My struggle to pass my driving test was fairly well-documented and there was a touch here and there about my impressions of the Glastonbury Festival and the Blaydon Races, for example.

But so little has changed in my life over the last four years that it actually seemed unworthy of comment. I am no nearer the journalism industry now when I started the blog, but that is not something which I wish to lament here.

Instead, I hope - and indeed must optimistically expect, that one day I shall look back on these moments as the toughest of my life, and then perhaps wonder why I had to put myself through so much.

This is an ongoing battle which will ultimately define me as a person in the long term, an internal conflict which I simply must not lose. And I am determined I will not.

Thanks for reading.


INDEX 2013
Index 2012 Index 2011
24.04 Index 2013

MEDIA/POLITICS
Home
09.01 Halfway to hell?
25.01 Cameron offers a way out of Europe
31.01 Out of bounds
01.03 Eastleigh stays loyal to the Lib Dems as Tories fall third
20.03 Budget 2013: Osborne yet to get Britain going
20.03 Cameron brokers long-awaited press regulation deal
10.04 Thatcher dies but her politics live on
Abroad
22.01 Hope springs eternal for Obama
12.03 Falklanders overwhelmingly opt to stay British

SPORT
FOOTBALL
Domestic
05.01 The Season 2012/13: Van Persie puts Man United "halfway" to title
05.01 FA Cup Third Round: Cup of woe continues for Newcastle
26.01 FA Cup Fourth Round: Man United on the box again
24.02 League Cup Final: Swansea sweep aside Bradford dream
28.02 Oh, when the Heed went marching in!
International
06.02 England beat the Samba Boys to mark FA anniversary
12.02 African Cup of Nations: Nigeria return to Nations Cup summit
27.03 World Cup qualifiers: England stutter while Scotland fall first

OTHER
Cricket
05.03 England receive Kiwi wake up call
26.03 England make yet another great escape
Cycling
18.01 Retired Cooke lances the boil
Grand National
06.04 Channel 4 takes up the Grand National reins
06.04 Auroras Encore lights up the Grand National
Rugby Union
02.02 Six Nations: All to play for
Snooker
20.04 World Snooker: O'Sullivan celebrates successful re-launch (results only)

Thailand 2012: From panic to paradise

SHUDDERING, sweating, and dry-heaving - all mixed in with bouts of sickness and diarrhoea. This was horrendous.

I also knew exactly what it was: the onset of another panic attack, and just three days before the start of the holiday of a lifetime to Thailand.

I was aware that it was a panic attack because, unfortunately, this was not an isolated incident. In fact, I had endured these episodes for some years now and foolishly done nothing about them.

These situations had indeed been mentioned in passing on this blog in the days when I was learning to drive.

In my review of my third failed test, entitled 'Under Pressure' no less, I wrote: "My anxiety was so bad that no rational explanation could calm me down and, due to the resultant insomnia, I expected that I may even have to cancel."

Meanwhile, another panic attack in London was the reason why a promised review of my work experience at the Camden New Journal back in 2009 was conspicuous by its absence.

For, on the first morning of that placement, I had a visceral reaction, similar to the one which I described in anticipation of the trip to Thailand.

Specifically, I was overwhelmed by the fact that, as a trained journalist following my successful NCTJ course at Darlington, I expected myself to work in a way that any other reporter would.

By rights, I should have been able to do this, of course.

However, the panic attack rendered me unable to do much around the office and this negative experience has been reinforced by my failure to do any placements elsewhere since. Perhaps, even though I am now seeking help, I am just not cut out for it.

Recently, I have found life more difficult, despite the support of excellent friends and family, as a series of relatively stressful events happened one after another.

For instance, in March, I was the best man at the wedding of my best mate. Now, making a speech is widely regarded as one of the most pressurised occasions of a person's life if they are not used to public speaking.

Rather than a touch of the nerves, though, I entered full-blown panic mode with stomach acid shooting up my oesophagus, making me nauseous and unable to eat the fine wedding feast on offer.

That, in the end, I still managed to stand up and deliver the speech was nothing short of remarkable, according to the doctor, and it remains for me a very proud moment.

Indeed, without declaring that I want a medal or anything, the fact is that I have always managed generally to muddle through with any task which I was feeling anxious about, undoubtedly showing some strength of character.

Sadly, my panic attack about Thailand - a holiday, for goodness sake! - was perhaps the worst I had ever experienced. And so, I finally decided it was time to seek professional assistance. 

My excellent GP immediately prescribed some diazepam to take me down off the ceiling and two days of this powerful stuff was enough to start and get me on the straight and narrow.

By Thursday 3 May, I was ready to make a decision about Thailand - and thankfully so, given that my train to the south was due to set off at just after 1pm. This was really cutting it fine.

In the end, I decided to bite the bullet and ensure that I did not waste a lot of money and a most wonderful experience. Whether I liked it or not, I was going to Thailand.

First, though, I was off to Reading for a couple of days before a flight from Heathrow to Bangkok via Zurich.

Handily included in that time was a trip to the CAMRA Reading Beer Festival which impressed with its size and organisation.

Then, on Saturday 6 May, the real deal began. Following a nervy landing at the short stop-off in Zurich, courtesy of a skiddy arrival on a sodden runway, I was at last on board a plane to Bangkok.

An episode of the Simpsons and the music of the Beatles, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, and Beethoven passed the time on the 10-hour flight which did not seem anywhere near as long to me.

And so to Bangkok. Admittedly, at first, I found the metropolis of the Thai capital a little overwhelming with its constant bustle.

But, after being introduced to the atmospheric Khao San Road - a Glastonbury-esque experience without the rain - I began properly to relax into my holiday.

I did not have long in Bangkok at this point to see the sights - although I did fit in my first ever ride in a tuk-tuk - as, once our crowd was assembled from various flights, we were off to the islands via a flight to Suritthani and a ferry.

Koh Samui and Koh Phangan are both idyllic places without being off the beaten track for the casual tourist (cf. the backpacker) and hiring scooters helped us get around the islands more easily.

In Lamai on Samui, we visited the Grandmother and Grandfather Rocks - so named because of their, er, appearance - as well as a nearby waterfall. Then, at night, we kicked back by drinking buckets of various concoctions at the Ark Bar while being hustled by nine-year-old children playing Connect 4.

Refusing to play one of the kids, she retorted that I was a "ladyboy" before running off. It was certainly not an insult which I expected to hear but quite amusing all the same.

Meanwhile, on Phangan, we reached the beach near the Haad Rin peninsula where the legendary Full Moon parties take place.

There was not one scheduled for when we were there and, though the expected Half Moon party was cancelled for renovation, the Jungle Experience near Baan Tai was an adequate replacement.

The week on the islands - four days on Samui, three on Phangan - were highly relaxing and exactly what I had needed. By this stage, there were no second thoughts in having taken the plunge.

Back to Bangkok for the second week and there was plenty of 'work' to be done if we wanted to see the sights.

The heat and humidity were tough going at the height of the afternoon but I soon learned that Sprite and the 7-Eleven shops were my friends and would just about keep me in my comfort zone.

So, what did we end up seeing in Bangkok then?

Well, the Grand Palace complex does indeed seem to be the grandest area of the capital. It is split into several quarters and features 34 buildings, many of which are still in proper use today.

But, while the Palace is one of the most extraordinary sights in Thailand, the mish-mash of its layout left me slightly confused and overwhelmed meaning my favourite tourist traps in Bangkok lie elsewhere.

Wat Pho nearby, for instance, is a much smaller complex but hardly forgettable on account of the huge Reclining Buddha which is its centrepiece.

And Wat Arun - the Temple of the Dawn (pictured) - is an imposing landmark on the west bank of Chao Phraya river, featuring a central prang of 86 metres.

Steep stairs allow tourists to clamber up the prang to gain a fine panoramic view of the skyscrapers overlooking the river - but more on that sort of thing a little later.

For, the entirety of the second week was not just spent in Bangkok: there was also an excursion out to Kanchanburi which took in the Kao Poon Cave and allowed us a walk along the reconstructed Bridge over the River Kwai.

A trip to a safari park required us to engage our consciences as it was clear that many of the animals were not treated particularly well.

Nevertheless, the feeding of bananas to giraffes and zebras produced happier memories and some great photographs. The giraffes were particularly friendly, moving their heads right inside the safari bus to snaffle the goodies while earning a stroke on the neck.

The second day of the tour featured the Erawan Falls, named after the three-headed white elephant of Hindu mythology.

I succeeded in reaching the top of the seven-tiered falls, and swam in gorgeous rock pools filled with unnervingly nippy fish. Later that day, I rode on the back of an elephant and then got comprehensively soaked when it swished river water with its trunk back over its head!

The remainder of the holiday was spent in Bangkok again, though our group of six dwindled in number as we left on our respective flights.

Even still on the last day when there were just two of us left, we made attempts to get around the city and be productive.

The stomach-turning Siriraj Medical Museum had been well-placed in a slot at the end of the break with its gruesome displays having earned it the nickname of 'The Museum of Death'.

And so it was just as well that it could be balanced out by some spectacular sights in our very last activity as we visited a skybar at the top of the State Tower.

Standing at a height of 810 feet, the view from the 64th floor was an amazing end to a holiday which I somehow almost never made it on.

I now know that staying at home would have been a foolish decision in the extreme and hindsight has caused me to shake my head in disbelief at a panic attack over a holiday.

Still, I cannot deny that it actually happened - and has happened in the past - and so the problem now needs to be dealt with properly.

In the meantime, the memories of my Thai hiatus are all good, and live on and on: many thanks to family and friends who helped me let it be.

Theatre Royal bash gets stamp of approval

THE THEATRE ROYAL in Newcastle celebrated another landmark birthday with a huge party on Grey Street at the weekend.

Hundreds of Geordies braved freezing temperatures to see a spectacular fireworks and lights show illuminate the Grade I-listed building at the heart of the much-acclaimed Grainger Town area.

The free event was reminiscent of the hourly display upon the tower of the Astronomical Clock in Prague - and served as a wonderful reminder of my trip to the capital of the Czech Republic last October.

Back on Tyneside, this celebration was in very good order. After all, the theatre turned 175 years old yesterday having first been opened on 20 February 1837.

Actually, the original building was gutted by a huge fire in 1899 following a performance of William Shakespeare's 'Scottish play', but the current incarnation - which has stood since 1901 - truly remains a jewel in the crown of Newcastle city centre.

Indeed, it is one of only three places in the country in which the Royal Shakespeare Company plays regularly, the others being London and, of course, Stratford-upon-Avon.

This year's first RSC performance at the Royal - the Taming of the Shrew - starts its run this week on 23 February, continuing until 3 March.

And then, this summer, a production of Julius Caesar will feature for 10 days from 19-28 July as part of the 2012 World Shakespeare Festival.

But, despite the best efforts of the Bard, the Royal is still most famous around Tyneside for putting on a fantastic family pantomime over the Christmas period.

A similarly excitable atmosphere could be found outside the theatre on Sunday as, at the start of each hour between 6-9pm, a harlequin called the Master of Mischief began the festivities.

After the fireworks and lights show, he then beckoned the crowd to see each of the five street performances which were stationed along the length of Grey Street.

These included allusions to Fagin in Oliver Twist, the Ugly Sisters in Cinderella and, my personal favourite, the three witches in Macbeth.

Thankfully, though, there was no sign of "double, double, toil and trouble" at this spectacular event.

And, considering this celebrated 175 years of the Theatre Royal, it can already be assumed that the bicentennial in 2037 will be yet another night to remember!

Glastonbury 2011 and Hyde Park review: Mud, sweat and beers

BEYONCE KNOWLES brought the curtain down on the last Glastonbury Festival until 2013 with a stunning show in front of a packed crowd on the Pyramid Stage.

The 29-year-old Texan singer opened her set by stepping down onto the stage from a mini version of the Pyramid while ticker tape and fireworks filled the air.

Beyonce fronted her performance with some of her biggest hits - starting with Crazy In Love and Single Ladies - before teaching the crowd some of the lyrics to her new single, Best Thing I Never Had.

The latter part of her set included covers of Prince and Kings of Leon, and a medley of Destiny's Child tunes.

But it was hardly a mistake to leave early and close the festival in style on the West Holts Stage with Kool & The Gang who played great versions of Get Down On It and Celebrate Good Times.

Earlier on the Sunday, Don McLean won the battle of the two American legends against Paul Simon, delivering a beautiful slow version of Vincent before milking American Pie for all its worth.

Simon stirred the crowd with Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes and You Can Call Me Al but he needlessly omitted Graceland and also could not find time for any Simon & Garfunkel tunes.

Thankfully, then, the Kaiser Chiefs on Other ran through all of their hits from their first album Employment after the Eels had helped us see in a beautiful sunset.

The hot sun on Sunday had come as a welcome relief after the heavens had poured down on most of Friday and Saturday morning.

Much of the site turned into a quagmire with up to a foot of mud in places and some of the bands struggled to rouse the crowd in the rain.

U2 were the biggest of the casualties with a largely underwhelming set.

Nevertheless, it did have a classy touch when Beautiful Day was introduced by an American astronaut in the International Space Station.

And Bono and the others will have at least pleased the purists having featured virtually all their biggest hits.

Earlier in the day, the Pyramid played host to an uninspiring set by Metronomy who would subsequently disappoint again at the Wireless Festival in Hyde Park.

On the Park, American pop duo Jenny and Johnny unsurprisingly struggled to blend their summery tunes with the inclement weather, despite their best efforts.

But, back at the Pyramid, there was total reverence as 85-year-old BB King sang the blues before, over on West Holts, Dr Jimmy Cliff hosted one of the best party atmospheres of the weekend.

On Saturday, Coldplay were another act to produce a great atmosphere at the front.

However, a truly magical Glastonbury moment - like when they finished on Fix You in 2005 - eluded Chris Martin and his band as they opted instead to finish on their new single Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall.

Elbow were a sound choice in providing the warm-up for Coldplay with front-man Guy Garvey giving the appearance of a man who could not believe his band had finally made it.

Meanwhile, much earlier in the day on John Peel Stage, Ardal O'Hanlon-lookalike Jamie 'Pockets' Fox from Fight Like Apes gave the impression that he should be anywhere other than a rock band.

That was not to his detriment, though, and the Irish group - fronted by shouty female vocalist Mary-Kate 'MayKay' Geraghty - provided a hugely entertaining start to the day with both their songs and ad libs.

After repeating the trick at Wireless, I can see Fight Like Apes - and not Shite Like Apes as a self-referential Fox amusingly called them - become another favourite of mine.

Just as the Gaslight Anthem did after their visit to Glastonbury on John Peel Stage in 2009. This year, the Brian Fallon-led New Jersey rockers were back - and playing on the big, uncovered Pyramid Stage.

But the Americans did not let the big venue unnerve them and they gave the big crowd an assured display of their talent.

Of course, as always, Glastonbury Festival has far more to it than just the main music stages though Tony Benn disappointed on the Leftfield Stage by turning up an hour early, meaning I missed him for a third successive year.

Another irritation was the new late night one-way queue system. With its winding seemingly never-ending path, it did its best to exhaust revellers even before they reached the likes of Shangrai-la and the Unfairground.

Worse still, most of these areas remained clogged up with mud even after the sun had dried out the rest of the site on Sunday.

My preview post showed I was skeptical of the one-way idea beforehand and being stuck in such a big queue did little to force me to reevaluate my opinion.

It may have been more organised for the organisers but there was an element of it becoming a chore to visit the late night areas when this has always previously been one of my most enjoyable parts of the festival.

Nevertheless, Arcadia is now such an impressive structure that Orbital played a DJ set there on Saturday night and it has certainly been a pleasure to see the venue develop over the last few years.

My favourite after-hours place this year was away from the south east corner, though. The Bourbon Street Bar gained two visits from myself.

The first was to see Sandi Thom play the blues on Thursday evening, and the second was for some late night boogie back to the jazz of the brilliantly-named Rabbit Foot Spasm Band on Friday.

Glastonbury certainly tested my patience on this fourth visit but, as usual, it still came through with a kaleidoscope of flying colours.


Hyde Park

ARCADE FIRE and Mumford & Sons impressed Hyde Park on the following Thursday, managing to stir a sleepy crowd into action after earlier sets by the Vaccines and Beirut.

And last weekend, Chase & Status, the Chemical Bros., The Streets, The Hives and Pulp were top billing at the aforementioned Wireless Festival.

Wireless was not without its hitches. A poor queuing system meant that I missed the chance to see Devotchka, a band which I held back from seeing at Glastonbury.

However, my biggest beef with the Hyde Park event was its rampant commercialism.

I understand the need for a festival to pay its way with advertisers but there were enough adverts there to make your eyes and ears bleed.

Mike Skinner of the Streets even joked main sponsors Barclaycard had approved the popping of pills during the subsequent sets by Chase & Status and the Chemical Brothers.

Earlier, Canadians Arcade Fire sprung somewhat of a surprise by featuring as many songs as they did from their first two albums, Funeral and Neon Bible, rather than their most recent release The Suburbs.

Still, another chance to hear Rebellion (Lies), Wake Up and No Cars Go live was no bad thing.

On Sunday at Wireless, the Hives played a straighter bat, reminding us of their biggest songs Hate To Say I Told You So and Main Offender.

Dressed in their usual sharp suits, Swedish front-man Pelle Almqvist ever-modestly self-proclaiming his band as the only one the crowd wanted to hear.

Of course, it was Pulp who were closer to that the description and the Sheffield band dug even deeper into their back collection to perform Disco 2000 and Babies in what was effectively a greatest hits set.

Appropriately, Jarvis Cocker and his band finished on Common People and ticker tape fell from the skies to signal the end of a party.

What a party it had been, though! An epic fortnight of music, mud, sweat and beers.

Glastonbury Festival and the Hyde Park hiatus

MY, OH MY! How quickly a year flies!

It seems just like yesterday since Stevie Wonder brought down the curtain on Glastonbury's 40th birthday celebrations.

But the time has come to make the journey to Michael Eavis' Worthy Farm in Pilton once again.

Even by Glastonbury standards, last year's festival was particularly spectacular. Not only was there the anniversary aspect but we also had a full week in which not a single raindrop fell.

It was, in fact, the first totally-dry Glastonbury since 2002 and so wishing for a repeat performance from the weather gods is rather optimistic.

Nevertheless, my hiatus from this blog for this year's festival looks like being pretty extraordinary again.

For, I will not only be attending Glastonbury - but also three further days of music on the following week at Hyde Park in London.

The reasons for this, in my head at least, are three-fold. Firstly, by paying for Hyde Park tickets, the number of clashes at Glastonbury is vastly reduced. More on this below.

Secondly, attending more gigs is the perfect way to banish the inevitable Sunday night Glastonbury blues which I have not avoided yet in three previous visits.

And, finally, there is no Glastonbury Festival next year so splashing out on extra music now seems especially worth it.

The fallow year was actually meant to be this year but with resources such as portaloos and security being taken up by the 2012 London Olympics, it made more sense to delay the recess.

So what exactly will I be looking forward to see at Glastonbury 2011?

Well, for a start, the Pyramid Stage headliners are U2 on Friday, Coldplay on Saturday and Beyonce Knowles on Sunday.

U2 will make a belated return to the festival, having intended to play last year until pulling out due to a back injury to their front-man Bono.

Coldplay are also making a long-awaited return to Glastonbury, having last played there in 2005, while this is Beyonce's first appearance, coming three years after her husband Jay-Z headlined.

To be honest, it is far more likely that I will spend the last hours of Sunday at the West Holts Stage celebrating good times with Kool & the Gang over a few last pints of Brothers cider.

I will have already spent a fair bit of Sunday in front of Pyramid anyway, waking up to the sea-shanties of the Fisherman's Friends before watching Don McLean and Paul Simon on the afternoon.

On Friday, I intend to make visits to the Park Stage for Jenny & Johnny and Big Audio Dynamite before a long evening stint at the Pyramid for Morrissey and U2.

And, on Saturday, I will probably be back at the Pyramid again for the likes of Stornoway and the Gaslight Anthem.

However, I would like to get myself around the site a bit and, on Saturday afternoon, I will combine some real ale and folk as Thea Gilmore's version of Bob Dylan's John Wesley Harding is followed in the Acoustic Tent by Pentangle.

And, of course, I would hope to indulge in some Glastonbury traditions by attending Tony Benn's talk at the Poetry & Words tent - if there is room - and by seeing to a bit of Billy Bragg on Leftfield.

Then, there are the visits to the Green Fields, the Stone Circle and the plethora of late night areas, now operating under a new one-way system. I am a little skeptical about those new plans but it is intended to improve access.

By way of a disclaimer, this itinerary is not for definite - nothing ever is at Glastonbury where there are constantly plenty of distractions. But the schedule is perhaps more definite than in other years.

The reason for this is that the number of possible clashes between the various acts has been vastly reduced by my choice to extend my trip by attending Hyde Park on 30 June.

There, I will see a one-off gig by Arcade Fire, Mumford & Sons, Chase & Status and the Vaccines - before returning there for the Wireless Festival on 2-3 July.

At Wireless, I expect to see the likes of Pulp, the Chemical Brothers, Devotchka, Yuck, Fight Like Apes and Katy B among many others.

And so it is no surprise that, right now, I feel like a kid at Christmas and simply cannot wait to get going. I think Millie the Micra and myself are in for the most fun we have ever had.

Glastonbury hits 40

THE ANNUAL pilgrimage to Pilton Farm in Somerset takes place this week as Glastonbury Festival celebrates its 40th birthday.

Gorillaz, Muse and Stevie Wonder will headline the Pyramid Stage after U2 were forced to pull out due to Bono having surgery on his spine.

Bono's misfortune is Damon Albarn's gain and the Gorillaz front man gets top billing at Glasto for a second time in a row, having played an emotional set with Blur to close the festival in 2009.

But Glastonbury has rarely been just about the headliners as proven in October when tickets sold out within a day without the line-up having been announced.

As it happens, Aussie octogenarian Rolf Harris opens the Pyramid Stage on Friday after attracting a huge crowd last year when playing the Jazz World Stage, now called West Holts.

That stage name is not the only change this year with the site bigger than ever following the creation of three new late-night areas due to popular demand.

And in a welcome re-think, the Leftfield Stage is back. It looks set to make a big impression on its return, especially on Saturday night when fans of shouty political folk-punk will flock to see successive sets by Frank Turner and Billy Bragg.

Elsewhere, folk with a more indie feel will be provided by Stornoway on Saturday and Turin Brakes in the Acoustic Tent near the always-impressive Red Flag Real Ale bar on Friday.

I would also love to see another set of folk musicians currently making a big leap into the mainstream - Mumford & Sons. But they face an almighty clash on Friday night with Florence and the Machine who I have yet to see live.

However, there are certain acts for whom the decision is rather easier for myself.

The aforementioned Frank Turner, the bizarre sound of The Flaming Lips, 90s legends The Lightning Seeds, and The Kinks' frontman Ray Davies - complete with gospel choir - are top of my own must-see list for this year.

Added to those, the Sunday night sets of Faithless and Stevie Wonder on Pyramid will round off what promises to be a glorious weekend very nicely.

Glorious is certainly what is being promised in terms of the weather for this year with Glastonbury expected to bask in bright sunshine and temperature of around 21 degrees.

Perhaps, for once, there is a good chance that the plastic ponchos and the infamous wellies can be packed away without being used.

But other, more enjoyable traditional Glastonbury pursuits - Brother's Cider on the first night, Spicy Cider from the Cider Bus, sitting at the Stone Circle - are sure to continue.

Tony Benn's Sunday afternoon speech is another fine tradition. Famously, the former Labour MP for Chesterfield said on retiring that he was "leaving Parliament to spend more time doing politics".

A man of real principle, Mr Benn is a worthwhile pause for reflection in a often hectic weekend.

On the other hand, Liberal Democrat leader Nick Clegg - who organisers hope will still turn up - may get a less than generous welcome.

Although, I suspect, both his attendance and his reception will depend on the contents of the coalition government's emergency budget.

But that particular issue is for another time. For now, I am off to enjoy myself and spend the next few days forgetting about the outside world - except, perhaps, the World Cup.

ESSENTIAL LINKS
*Official Glastonbury Festival website
*BBC Glastonbury Festival website
*The Guardian Glastonbury Festival website
*Halvin's Clashfinder 2010
*Glastonbury Festival map
*E-festivals message board for Glastonbury
*BBC weather for BA4 (Wells nr Glastonbury)

Férias

That's it! I've had enough! Enough of this miserable excuse for a summer.

We were promised a barbecue summer by Met Office experts (although they later claimed this line came from its press office only), but it has turned out to be only marginally better than the last two washouts.

So much for the so-called 'staycation' in which Britons have gone on holiday here due to the credit crunch and the false promise of sunshine.

I'm off to the warmer climes on holiday, or férias as the Portuguese call it.

I'm escaping for nine days to Albufeira on the Algarve with some friends to soak up the rays and make an attempt to match the average consumption of alcohol by a Briton abroad on holiday.

I think I've made the right choice. The forecast for Albufeira looks a lot better than another unsettled bank holiday weekend here.

I'm back on September 7th from when I hope to update this blog on a more regular basis.

I know it's a promise which you have heard before from me but I really will need something to do when the nights draw in and the weather gets even colder.

Bye for now,
The Intrepid Reporter.

The Intrepid Reporter is away

Apologies for the lack of updates recently but I'm afraid it is unlikely to change any time soon.

My excuse for the last week has been my ever increasing focus on the semi-intensive driving course (21 hours completed) and the elusive search for a job.

But this upcoming break from posting is very much a case of pleasure rather than business.

As you may be aware from my previous post, I'll be spending the next four nights in a tent in a field at Glastonbury Festival (follow live festival updates here).

Well, it is my idea of fun!

And while I intend to take a break from the humdrum of everyday life, I promise to provide a post-festival review as I'm taking a notepad and pen to jot down anything that catches my attention.

Or, in all likelihood, by the end of the weekend, anything I can even vaguely remember.

Glastonbury

Wellies at the ready - it's that time again when thousands of revellers descend on Somerset for Glastonbury Festival.

This year's festival will be my second visit to Worthy Farm after my maiden experience at last year's event.

I became truly captured in the magic of Glastonbury as the sun beamed out over the Pyramid Stage when Crowded House played 'Weather With You' on Saturday after two days of rain.

And I placed my deposit to guarantee a place for 2009 as soon as I could.

The outlook for this year's event is set to be unsettled with warm weather interspersed by summer showers. Not that it's likely to bother anyone.

As usual, the gates to the campsite open on Wednesday but I will be arriving on Thursday due to logistical reasons.

But, hopefully, I will be in time for the first main act, Newcastle-based band Maximo Park playing at the new William Green area.

The opening night of wandering aimlessly around the site is sure to follow with likely stop-offs at the Brothers Bar and the Cider Bus before late night indulgence in Trash City and Shangrai-La.

A visit to the Stone Circle is a must and, this year, I'm hoping my body-clock holds out to allow me to see dawn rise over the campsite from the hill.

In terms of music, the festival remains generally as varied as ever, though without the JayZ-sized risk from 2008 in the headliners.

Instead, Michael Eavis has lined up Neil Young, Bruce Springsteen and Blur to finish on the Pyramid Stage over the weekend.

In a Friday night clash, Young will compete against The Kinks' Ray Davies who I am more likely to see for the expected sing-a-long.

But Saturday will be all about The Boss and his two-hour set as a headliner with Kasabian as the warm-up.

On Sunday, there is another unseemly clash with Blur on at the same time as The Prodigy.

The return of Damon Albarn and Graham Coxon et al is likely to shade it for me, though, especially having seen Keith Flint's group on previous occasions.

As for the rest of the acts, I am very excited to see ska legends The Specials on Friday with Madness on Sunday thrown in for good measure.

And another personal favourite, Art Brut, will make an appearance on Saturday at the Other Stage

Novelty acts Bjorn Again and Spinal Tap earn their place alongside old-timers Rolf Harris and Sir Tom Jones.

And I expect to make room for the traditional speech from Tony Benn, a real conviction politician who completely shows the current spineless bunch for what they are.

But the wondrous element of Glastonbury is its unpredictability.

These plans are just that - plans. I expect many of them will go to waste, which makes the whole muddy mess even more fun.


Useful links:
*The official Glastonbury Festival website
*Halvin's Clashfinder - an impressively accurate compilation of the set times for every act on every stage
*Efestivals messageboard - Glastonbury rumour and counter-rumour
*Glastonbury Map
*BBC Weather (for Glastonbury)