The Whitakers in Europe: To Venice! Or should that be 'come on Iceland'?

Scott writes:
Day 35

Today it was time to say goodbye to Villefranche and our magnificent view and say hello to Venice. After a slightly later start due to everyone being up so late last night (more below), we drove the six hours it took to get to Venice. There must be about 30 tunnels within the first hour of entering Italy - many of them very long. I commented to Theresa that this must have been a huge engineering undertaking as we drove across large bridges covering deep gulleys and through tunnels that went straight through mountains and rocky outcrops. The big toll ensured we helped pay for what we had just used.

We parked just on the edge of Venice and caught the Vaporetto (ferry boat) to San Marco Square. Our apartment is just off the square. Theresa and James found the supermarket and after a quick dinner we went for a ride down the Grand Canal to see the lights.

The late night last night, at least on my part, was because I went to the Euro 2016 last 16 game between England and Iceland. I bought second hand tickets on the internet and went to pick them up on my way to the ground, hoping for the best. It was remarkably smooth (much better than I was imagining) finding the meeting place, collecting the ticket, finding the park and ride place then catching the bus to the ground. My ticket was right in amongst the Iceland supporters, third row from the front, with a small smattering of neutrals and England supporters.

Because things had gone smoothly I had 3 hours to kill before the games started and I wondered just what I would do. But after finding a beer and a hotdog, the fans started their game two hours before kick off. Hardly any England supporters were even in their seats when the cries of Eesland (spelt "Island" here but we spell it "Iceland") were ringing out. They simply never stopped. Two hours before the game, 90+ minutes of football (where did all that injury time appear from?) and 30 minutes after the game, they just made a wall of noise.

Iceland supporters filled only one corner of the stadium, well less than a quarter of the 35,000 seat stadium, yet you could have been forgiven for thinking that, apart for a few moments when England scored from a (dubious) penalty after 5 minutes, the ground was filled to capacity with Iceland supporters. I am sure it was a significant factor in lifting their team. Every tackle and every touch of the ball was greeted with massive cheers and cries of "I'm from eesland". By that stage I was from eesland too, born and bred.

At the end of the game it was as if Iceland had just lifted the trophy. On the full time whistle the entire team came running over to where the fans were and they celebrated for a long time. I didn't want to leave but eventually had to go and get my bus. However for the 30 minutes I stayed after the final whistle and the England fans had all left, dejected and out of the competition, Iceland's fans continued to chant and cheer with the players and managers joining in - they were still in full song when I left. The players were hugging and high fiving each other and the crowd. It was the biggest win of the small country's history. It was simply luck that I was with the Iceland supporters but in the end it was the best sporting experience I have ever been to.