EURO 2012 semi-final in Donetsk

This year I did not plan to attend Euro 2012. Or rather, there was a desire to watch the main soccer event in Europe, but when tickets were just starting to be sold by pre-order, the organizers made a mad rush, announcing that there would not be enough tickets for everyone, and they would be drawn by lot among all those who applied for them. As a result, millions of people from all over the world flocked to the UEFA website to order tickets for themselves and their wives, moms, dads, grandmothers and girlfriends, for the matches they wanted and the ones they didn’t give a damn about. So, in a few days the tickets were booked, a drawing was held, and most of the tickets were won by people who didn’t need them anymore. They won 5-6 tickets in different classes for one match. They started to be given away, and sometimes they were simply “dumped” – they didn’t pay for the reservation and forgot about them.

Having always disliked the herd instinct, I watched this “fight” with a smile, another UEFA marketing move, and then forgot about the championship altogether. Ukraine, the team I was rooting for, did not participate in the qualifiers because they were the host nation and went straight to the finals. I remembered about this event by chance after the match Ukraine – Sweden, where Sheva scored a double in the Swedish goal and won a great victory over a team that was two heads stronger than us. And I wanted to go to the stadium, preferably to the match with Ukraine. I went to the Internet and surprisingly found dozens of returned tickets on the official ticket portal. And the tickets are cheap, at 25 euros per seat. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make it to the Ukraine game because I was very busy with work, but I could easily make it to the semifinal between Portugal and Spain. After all, it’s basically free! And as it turned out, the whole trip cost me less than 100 dollars!

So here goes. Having quickly bought tickets and paid for them with a credit card directly on the site (thank you, 21st century possibilities), I went to the station to print tickets (rays of kindness to you, “UkrZaliznytsya” in your crooked system of accepting payments from no less “perfect” bank”).

You may be interested in the detailed instructions on how to buy and pay for train tickets on the Ukrzaliznytsia website, which I wrote especially for you!

Since I prefer to travel on a budget, and the trip to Donetsk takes only 5 hours, and even in the daytime. took a parlor ticket. A seat there and back with a bed and a fine for zeroing the ticket (an armless cashier could not properly make a payment from my card, blamed me and charged me $4, but I was in a very good mood to explain to her that she was a camel) cost me $15. After that, I went back to work. I worked in an office, and as a true office plankton, I printed everything I needed on a government printer. It was there that I printed out the receipts I needed to get tickets in Donetsk. I was a bit shocked to see that UEFA had been too cheap to hire translators, and the text was clearly written through Google Translate.

A few days later, I put a sports sweatshirt in my backpack to keep warm at night, and a bunch of stuff for a “snack” on the train (rolls, chocolates, bars, bananas, and the whole other set of a bachelor on a trip). And I went to the station and from there to Donetsk.

I arrived in Donetsk at the main railway station (though honestly I don’t know, maybe they only have one, it doesn’t matter) in the middle of the first day, and it was cloudy outside.

Hoping that the weather would clear up, I got on the bus and bought a ticket as a souvenir (all EURO guests could travel for free, but at that time I had not yet received a ticket). The ticket turned out to be frankly boring, Soviet-style, and I quickly stuck it somewhere and never saw it again.

То, что матч уже на носу, чувствовалось. В автобус со мной залезла толпа болельщиков Португалии, уже изрядно подвыпивших. Весело распевая песни и попивая пиво прямо в транспорте из купленных детских кружек, они доехали со мной до остановки возле Донбасс-Арены и вышли, я же проехал на одну остановку дальше. Мне нужно всегда, если я оказываюсь в знакомом городе, начинать с точки, где я бывал. Почему — не знаю. В Донецке я был в ноябре 2011 года, тогда здесь как раз выпал снег, и он мне запомнился таким, каким я его увидел в тот день. Все белым бело, мало людей, у всех недовольные лица, город как после бомбежки, вокзал захвачен бомжами и жутко воняет. Теперь же подготовка к ЕВРО была закончена, развалины и раскопки привели в порядок, все кругом цвело и зеленело. Вокзал отремонтировал и бомжи с него выгнаны. Новая часть вокзала. Я вышел из автобуса на знакомо переходе, и улыбаясь выходящему из-за тучек солнышку стал искать обходные симпатичные пути к стадиону, надеясь, что люди в связи с летом здесь тоже стали приветливее и более улыбчивые.

Beautiful girls walked by, smiling for the camera, but I was interested in the police. I found a patrol nearby and found out where I could get tickets. I already knew this, it was explained in the accompanying letter when I bought the tickets, but I wanted to see how the police were prepared for such events. I asked in Russian and was told without any problems that I could get tickets near the stadium in special ticket offices, showed me the sign and explained how to get there. I went to the stadium.

Even though the game was still half a day away, the fans were preparing very seriously. It was difficult to pass near the ticket offices, there were fans everywhere. This is the group of fans of the team I came to support – the Spanish national team. We talked a little about the upcoming match, they shouted “Ukraino”, laughed and I went to get the tickets.

The ticket office was very pleasant. The line was 1 or 2 people at most, and it moved quickly as most people had already bought tickets and just took the prepaid papers.

There were many volunteers at the ticket office who successfully answered my questions, patiently explained and showed me everything. They spoke excellent Ukrainian, Russian and English.

There were separate facilities for people with disabilities: different phones, lower ticket booths, etc. The only downside to all of this was the almost complete lack of ramps in the entire city. Apparently, the city government hoped to teleport these fans directly to the square meters in front of the ticket offices.

After receiving my ticket for the game, I took a picture of it according to the collective farm tradition, and after hiding it in my backpack, I went to see the central part of the city. By this time, the sun had not only come out from behind the clouds, but was already burning. I rolled up my jeans as much as possible and went out for a snack first.

After downloading Foursquare on my old phone, I was horrified to find out that my favorite puzata hata was not in town. It was unpleasant, I was used to eat in these establishments while traveling around Ukraine. Pleasant atmosphere, kept in national traditions, quite edible, and even similar to home food, low prices (soup + bread + salad + mashed potatoes + chicken cutlet + juice from a bag + hour + cake Napoleon = less than 5 dollars, it is, you know, good arithmetic). Where to run to? Nearby I found a strange looking restaurant, I think “Ukrainian dishes”. I went in for a snack. The prices here were biting (why not profit from tourists?), it was rather unkempt… and the staff did not speak English! I couldn’t understand that for a long time, and I still can’t. Tell me, for the time of EURO it was impossible to hire a person, at least one who knows a few words in English, that the poor tourists would not point at the dishes and the girls in response would not show the price on their fingers? And I saw the same situation everywhere. And the second thing that shocked me was that credit cards are not accepted here. This is a common disease in Donetsk – an allergy to credit cards. There were no terminals anywhere except in big supermarkets. It was especially annoying in the fan shops, I wanted to buy a T-shirt and a Spain scarf, but nowhere accepted cards, and I do not carry more than 200 hryvnia in cash.

After eating a plate of borscht and drinking tea (there was nothing else edible for me there, only French fries, fried chops and other enemies of the liver), I went for a walk. I still had about 5 hours ahead of me, so I decided to rent a bike for a quick tour of the city. Personally, I think there is no better way to see the city than on a bike. I started approaching the tents with tour information, but no one knew where to rent a bike. I never found one.

I liked the Sky City Business Center. Usually, such buildings look rather horrible in our expanses, but here they managed to blend in pleasantly with the environment. And the fountain protected passersby from the heat. I couldn’t resist walking under it.

Again, I noticed an important trend: the further east you go in Ukraine, or in Eurasia in general, the more people are afraid of cameras. They are afraid in the literal sense: they turn away, close themselves off, start to be rude and get hysterical, while in the West everyone loves to be photographed, smiles into the frame, and if they suddenly don’t feel like it, they just move away and ask not to be photographed. Here it is clear that culture influences the reaction… But what influences attitudes toward photographs? It will be necessary to study this question from a psychological point of view.

I couldn’t help but cackle at these youngsters. They’re so cute. They’re taxi drivers. The one in the black car that violated the rules of the road backed into the crosswalk and literally ran me over. He was parked right next to the crosswalk. For your information, in Ukraine this is already a violation of at least 3 traffic rules. I was outraged by such behavior of a taxi driver (in our city taxi drivers are all branded, they are terribly controlled and most of them are afraid of shuttle bus drivers on the street). But since I had just communicated in English, I hesitantly shouted in English, “What are you doing? Somehow I get the impression that neither he nor the second taxi driver understands this language, because the second one, the one in the silver car, quickly “stepped up”, leaned out of the window and advised me to “get out of here”.

I continued to play the polite foreigner. Because what does a foreigner do in such a case? Right, he goes to the police. I smiled at these nice drivers, took out my camera and gave them a photo shoot. Something in their heads added up to 2 + 2, because the Mazda driver who was being rude quickly hid under the car from the camera. Okay, you don’t want a portrait photo, fine. I moved on.

Meanwhile, I continued to look around the city. At every intersection in the center, traffic police, traffic controllers. Actually, they should have been more on the sides, if you ask me. But never mind. They know better. The sun came out already terribly, I bought bottles of mineral water and started to quench my thirst. Already at home I noticed that Donetsk turned out to be the most expensive city I was in Ukraine. For example, a bottle of my mineral water here costs 5.93 hryvnias, while in my city it is 4.30, in the capital 4.50, and in resorts no more than 5. Although it is worth noting that people here earn more.

After visiting a dozen fan shops and realizing that I would go to the game without the attributes of Spain, I became angry at the unpreparedness of the city. After all, I could go home to any Adidas store and buy the brand at a cheaper price (280 – 380 UAH vs. 380 – 800).

Meanwhile it was about 5 pm and I went back to the stadium. Since I hadn’t found anything special to watch in Donetsk, I decided to pass the time near the stadium, chatting with foreigners and enjoying the spectacle, as they say. Here I regretted that I had left my headphones at home and had nothing to listen to.

By the way, over time I learned to find interesting places even in “hard to reach” places. I have described my method in the article «How to find interesting places for traveling and hiking. Detailed instructions. » After trying to make it as accessible and complete as possible, I keep it up to date, making edits, additions, and more. You are strongly encouraged to read it!

Photo in the style of Tema Lebedev, hehehe. Who knows what kind of alien is this “android” on the streets of the city? Residents of Donetsk, give me a hint!

What I like about Donetsk is that there are such beautiful alleys with benches where it is pleasant to take a break. Although it is not well thought out, most of them are not in the shade, but they look at the flower beds and at each other, and this is better than the fans of Sovdepov “sticking” benches facing the street with cars.

Unfortunately, some people find nothing better than drinking beer, and that’s sad…..

Foreign policemen appeared in the city. They helped our police to communicate with foreigners. After all, the culture is different, and no one knows better than their police how to communicate with their fans, who is the most violent among them, what to expect from them, and how to stop them. Also, a lot of fans flew in from Spain, where the majority of the population does not speak English, so we needed people who could respond in Spanish and Portuguese in case of an emergency.

In the photo above, a Portugal fan is chatting with “his” police officer from the Lisbon region, as evidenced by his patch.

And here’s another World Friendship Gum.

About the fans. To be honest, this was my first time in a stadium. I mean, it was only after the 2010 World Cup that I became more or less interested in football and went to my first match.

Communicating and watching foreign fans, I realized what respect is, what politeness is. There were no fights or scuffles. I saw an image: a group of Portuguese fans drinking beer on the grass. A group of Spaniards passes by. They stopped. One by one, without interrupting each other, they shouted their speeches three times, came up, shook hands and went on! Mentality, what can you do?

Having decided that there would be no food at the game and that I would not run to the bathroom, I decided to eat and drink water before the game and then stop eating and drinking until the end of the game. That was done. Another plate of borscht at the same place satisfied my hunger, and I went to the supermarket to buy some more mineral water and some bars for the night.

At the entrance to the supermarket, the security guard asked me if I wanted to give up my backpack. Of course my answer was no. He asked me why, but in such a childish, naïve way that I did not explain that they had no right to demand it, but simply said that it contained documents and a camera. Okay, come in – he easily agreed. Either the raids of “Ukraine without serfs” prepared them that way, or I really got such a calm and intelligent person, I don’t know.

At the checkout counter in front of me, Spaniards were shopping. When they saw a group of Portuguese at the entrance, they shouted their chants and the Portuguese responded. I approached the register:

— Need a bag?
— No, thank you.
At that moment, the saleswoman looked at me, hearing Russian speech, took me for a local:
– When  are they going to get out of here with  their soccer? – she called out to me.

It seemed like a small thing, but it left a residue. Hospitable, to say the least, especially considering that we brought them more profit on match days than they had scraped together in a month. In general, the impression of a city and a country is often formed from such little things, not from its appearance, although this also has a great impact.

There are a lot of clean lawns near the stadium. This is cool, really incredibly cool. I really like this European tradition of resting like this, on the grass, looking at people, reading or just admiring the person you care about. I especially liked that because of the uneven terrain near the stadium there were both hills and lowlands, which allowed you to find a comfortable place for yourself. As you can see, many Slavs are also getting used to sitting on the grass. It is expensive to watch! The grass is green, beautiful girls are smiling and running to pick up foreigners (well, Ukrainian and Russian women have such a hobby, what can you do).

Many of the foreigners had a hard time, they were surrounded by a crowd and asked to be photographed. What can you do, they had to work for their trip to the championship.

The heat and lack of shade on the meadows was more than compensated by this small, artificial water body. There was a pleasant coolness coming from it, and young people hurried closer to it to cool off. Some openly sunbathed, others rinsed their feet there.

By the way, there were crucian carp and fathead carp swimming in the pond, if I’m not mistaken. Somehow it seems to me that they are not there for beauty. Perhaps this is a way to fight algae or some other problems of artificial standing ponds.

All this was happening near the central entrance to the stadium, while I went to scout the sides and back. There were crowds of Berkut (police special forces), police and for some reason – traffic policemen (pictured here – a terrible dream of any motorist), receiving instructions. Buses with berkut were lurking in neighboring yards. Most likely, there was special equipment (water cannons, etc.) somewhere nearby, but I did not find it.

There were firefighters, ambulances on duty at the perimeter. They even brought out mounted police.

In general, in Ukraine the mounted militia is practically not used now, unlike, say, in the Czech Republic. For example, in our city there used to be a base for their training, but now it is abandoned. And at the championship it was represented by a few riders, which naturally could not help much when a large crowd clashes, and against small scuffles this type of law enforcement is ineffective. On the other hand, these lovely ladies on horseback quickly gained popularity as a background for photographs, and willingly posed for tourists.

Although we must admit, a policewoman on a horse looks very spectacular. Especially our Ukrainian beauties.

Meanwhile, the young people entertained themselves and others in a variety of ways. Someone played soccer, someone jumped and performed acrobatic tricks. In general, I was not bored, there was something to see and enjoy – not all young people smoke and drink, there are sports normal guys. I walk around, take pictures, smile and rejoice. They are the future of our country, for the sake of people like them I started my political and public career.

I was disappointed when I found out that most of them were not locals, but Poles and Portuguese. Having given up on my desire to record a short video interview with any of them, I heard a noise in the sky. It was a blue red helicopter.

They were filming the stadium from the air. No other functions have been noticed, and it does not look like a military aircraft. Where are those military helicopters and fighter jets, whose pilots were trained by the Americans to protect the air order in order to avoid terrorist attacks at the matches, no one ever found out, thinking that the money was wasted. It turned out, no, the money was spent on the final match, where the presidents of different countries came. They say everything was fine with the security there. No, I understand that a fighter jet located at a neighboring military airfield can be raised in no time, and the air defense system in Ukraine is the densest in the post-Soviet space, but why they were trained to “guard the sky” is not clear to me. Maybe again they were so inconspicuous…..

I saw bandurists for the first time. I don’t remember what they played and how – I don’t remember at all, the noise and noise was so loud that I couldn’t hear even those standing next to me. However, I will say that the instrument is gorgeous. I listened to it performed by a wonderful bandurist and singer Ivan Shmilo, but I will tell you about him next time.

At that time, all the surrounding streets were blocked off by the police, the stadium was cordoned off and it was only possible to enter from one side. People began to gather, and the locals did not look at it all very favorably. Someone earned as they could – they drew flags on the fans’ faces, resold tickets, sold wreaths on the head and scarves for 20 hryvnias more expensive than in the tent next to it. In general, people did the right thing. While some whined that fans interfere with their lives, others made a profit on it. That’s right, think, as the Americans say, “Out of the box”, that is, out of the box.

In order not to choke in the crowd, I was one of the first to enter the stadium as soon as the entrance was opened. The security system is quite serious. At the beginning there was a manual search, then some detectors. The tickets were checked for “validity” (I should remind you that, according to preliminary data, over 10,000 fake tickets were sold for the matches through internet sellers and other scum).

The stadium is huge, and due to the fact that it is a soccer stadium, meaning there are no running tracks, etc., people sit as close as possible.

I got a Restricted View ticket, i.e. a limited view. I thought I would be looking out from behind a pillar on the side, but the architects pleased me, and even the most “hard to reach” places allowed me to see the stadium perfectly. I was extremely happy with my view and I still don’t understand the point of buying expensive seats and seeing only half of the field, when the cheap ones give a hundred times better view. And right in front of me was a TV with replays, which I really didn’t look at much.

But I was lucky again. Five guys came up and explained the situation – five of them had bought 5 tickets, 4 were given next to each other, and one was better, but separate. I said that I was alone and would be happy to swap, as a result of which I took an even more favorable seat at the stadium, from which I watched the whole match. I was unlucky only with penalties, which were kicked into the opposite goal.

Since I arrived early, I spent my time watching the girls’ and boys’ performances before the match. Before that, I had already talked to these girls, and it turned out that they were all Ukrainians. I thought that the support group for Spain and Portugal would not be locals. But never mind, but they are beautiful.

I didn’t understand much of the point of these speeches. Or rather, how. Well, those with white-red-yellow-blue triangles – it’s kind of clear, the colors of the host countries, Ukraine and Poland. But what these running dominoes, which looked like cockroaches when they were turned over with the black side and ladybugs when they were placed red upwards, meant, I still didn’t understand.

But, I must say, I was pleasantly surprised by the long-range performance of my $160 soapbox. I was able to get some pretty good shots of the field from under the roof of the stadium. I love my camera, and the only drawback for me is the inability to shoot in raw. Otherwise, it’s a very handy compact camera. I thought about buying a DSLR, but it’s not for me. For me it is important to be mobile, to grab the camera and take a picture, sometimes without getting off the bike, and I don’t want to carry extra kilograms of equipment, lenses, etc. with me. Perhaps, in time I will reconsider my views (and indeed, at the end of 2013 I bought myself a new device, but I am not going to give up my favorite digital super-zoom).

Soon the girls with flags ran off the field, the referee and team captains came out for a coin flip. A minute later, the goal for the first half was decided, the Spaniards got the ball and the match began.

The game was terribly boring at first. I, and many others, had the feeling that the players had not slept for three or four nights. They didn’t even run, they just walked around the pitch, so lazy that they didn’t even kick the ball towards the opponent’s goal.

The stadium started chanting “We need a goal”, but it didn’t help much, because the players didn’t know Russian.

A lot of people were rooting for Portugal that day. And I found myself in a sector where there were literally 15-20 people cheering for Spain besides me. It was fun enough to shout their shouts, and in front of me sat the funniest Spanish woman. She was so openly and emotionally cheering for her team, with the gesticulation peculiar to this nation, that I was watching her for part of the match, not the stadium. I wanted to meet her, but the crowd from the bottom row after the match quickly took her aside.

Toward the end of the second half the game began to resemble soccer, but no one waited for goals, so in the appointed extra time we were already hoping that the score would not be opened, so that they would take penalties. And so it turned out. It was almost one o’clock in the morning, probably already, and the teams just went to kick penalties.

And here we watched with bated breath as Casillas saves the Red Fury’s goal twice, and the match ends with a 2:4 victory for Spain! A feeling of celebration! The stand got up to leave in frustration, but we, the Spain fans continued to stand with a victorious look and applaud the players.

Soon I was headed for the exit. The mood was super. My mom called and congratulated me on the victory (she was also rooting for Spain, but unfortunately she was watching at home, she couldn’t get off work). I had a test – to take my backpack. They didn’t let me into the stadium with it, so I had to give it up. And after a perfectly organized match all the mood was spoiled by the queue in these carriages for things. I felt myself at school, near the locker room. Maybe you remember how in winter everyone pushes next to it to be the first to get a jacket and make snowballs for the girls? Well, the same thing was happening here.

One Spaniard turned out to be insolent, he simply got in line and shoved girls, for which he was sent in Spanish (well, there was an interesting Spanish TV series, and there was no translation, so I watched it with subtitles and remembered some things, heh – heh). It was easier, but I spoiled my aura, which caused me to suffer immediately – I forgot to fasten the camera case, and it flew out, flying along the asphalt for a meter and a half. The case is scratched, but it works fine. Phew, good.

Then I went with the crowd wherever I wanted to go. After walking around for half an hour, I decided to go to the train station. The thing is that our Ukrainian greed does not allow us to do business. And local “businessmen” drove up the prices for housing. So, a place for a tent cost 70 bucks, and a room in a shabby hotel for one – from 370 dollars. For those who have been to Europe understands that these are abnormal prices. Well at the expense of this almost all these people went bankrupt, for the soccer came not millionaires, but mostly students and simple workers. Everyone went to the airports or train stations to spend the night. My train did not leave until 11 o’clock the next morning, and I had to stop somewhere.

I called a colleague from Donetsk and she said that it was possible to spend the night in some student hostel; the locals had decided to make money out of it. The price is not high – 9 dollars per night, but personally I was calmer to sleep for free in the chair of the station, next to a lot of police and under video cameras, than in an unfamiliar place, on ridged beds, it is unclear where. And to trust someone with my belongings.

I rolled back my jeans, put on my gym shoes, and after asking the militia where transportation was now available (the streets were blocked), I set off in the direction of the train station. It was hard to know the way, though, because a lot of police had been brought from other cities as reinforcements, and they navigated as well as I did, and some even worse.

I arrived at the station, had time to take a seat – almost all the fans were already asleep. The foreigners were more cunning and brought sleeping bags, stacking them on the floor. I hugged my backpack and tried to sleep. I slept badly, and at 5 a.m. I got up to warm up. It was cold, I was terribly sleepy, and in my pocket I had a pass for another half day on public transportation, so I got on the first trolleybus and went for a ride here and there. It was warm and soft.

At about 8 a.m. the public canteens began to open, and I pissed off all the conductors and decided to go out to eat. I had a leaflet in my backpack, which was handed yesterday by a beautiful girl in traditional Ukrainian dress – embroidered shirt, with a wreath on her head, in general – a beauty. I remembered, it is not those students, who with a sad look, standing in an old jacket silently shoving advertisements near the crossings in our country. Such a thing is memorable, and I took out a leaflet, smoothed it out (I’m a pig, ay-yay-ya!) and went to look for this feeder.

This turned out to be a stone’s throw from the one I ate at yesterday, but it wasn’t labeled on the “forskwer”, which is why they paid for losing customers yesterday. It was nicer, tastier and better here. Very reminiscent of Puzata Hata. The cheesecakes were so tasty that I came back just before the train and ordered another portion, grabbed a quick bite.

An hour before the trip I sat down on a bench near the stadium and… I fell asleep! I miraculously missed the train, jumped up and went to the station. I already had a return ticket, so I just had to get on the train. I found the most pleasant neighbors, with whom I talked cheerfully all the way home.

Here we go. The total budget for the trip was 70 dollars. A small birthday present to myself, unexpected and pleasant. I decided that if Ukraine will somehow make it to the 2014 World Cup after the bummer that Bal made for us, I will go there as well.