I was lucky enough to attend the Nou Camp at the weekend (or as the Spanish cab driver insisted on us addressing it, the 'Camp Nou' - indeed, it wasn't until we pronounced it properly that he agreed to take us there. Pedant.).

The goalless bore draw with Espanyol aside, I have drawn the following conclusions from watching le football continental:

- the smuggling in of beer and the smoking of fags inside the ground is accepted, with no comeback whatsoever
- no-one sits in the right seats
- the creating and throwing of paper aeroplanes is permitted if you are a local. Said locals do not appreciate 'el Inglés' throwing paper aeroplanes
- white hankies are an essential addition to any supporter's kitbag, particularly when the hosts miss a succession of chances
- there is no segregation, even for a Catalan derby
- the singing of English football songs serves to strangely entertain the aforementioned locals

A wonderous experience. Not a patch on Crawley Town, of course, but inspiring nonetheless. And if I ever return, I'll once again try to apologise to the old geezer who ended up with my famous wing-tipped A4 version of a DC-3 bomber sticking out of his right eye. Sorry, Pedro.

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