I have to feel a bit sorry for Garvan.  I mean, he’d went to so much trouble making the accommodation arrangements for 15 people, and the description of Zurich’s ZicZac Rock Hotel seemed pretty impressive on their website.  With hindsight, when your sales pitch is "Come on in and feel good in the hottest rock-shack of Zurich", maybe we should have played safe and went for the Holiday Inn.

Finbarr and I were somewhat apprehensive when we opened the door to our twin room – the “Lenny Kravitz” room no less - to discover a bunk bed of dubious cleanliness.  No time to think about it too much at that stage, as we’d taken advantage of the glorious autumnal evening and had already cooled down with a couple of gross beers.  Being in the prime of our middle-age, we were in a hurry to check out the sights of Zurich.  It did hit us next morning, Finbarr in particular, when with hung over, bleary eyes, we came face-to-face with a bizarre picture of a half-naked Paul McCartney dressed as a stick of Wrigley’s Spearmint gum standing next to an oversized ashtray and smoking cigarette.  Groovy.

I won’t waste too many words reminding myself about the unjust disaster of the match ticket distribution.  It’s still galling to remember the desperation of lads who’d been to Moscow, Tirana and Tiblisi being forced to grovel to Swiss Man You fans on the Zurich-Basel train before the game.  I haven’t quite that loyal pedigree, so can’t complain too much about having to resort to Swiss e-bay and paying £125.

The St Jakob Park Stadium is atmospheric and compact, and really complemented the Swiss fans’ passionate singing and flag waving.  We were right in the heart of the Swiss equivalent of the West Terrace / Holte End / Kop and were somewhat anxious to avoid being slung out.  Barring ourselves, this was probably the only section of the ground without any Irish presence.  We had nothing to worry about though.

Now, being a Coventry City fan, I can’t profess to be a football tactician.  But, even to me, who sometimes struggles to make out whether the team is playing a 4-4-2, a 4-3-3 or even a 10-0-0 formation, I thought it odd when we’re losing 2-0, to bring a defender and non-attacking midfielder on, leaving the proven super-sub Doherty on the bench.  It had to be worth throwing caution to the wind, didn’t it?  I’ve seen some appalling performances at Highfield Road during the past couple of seasons, but never where the stakes were as high as they were for this game. How, in little over a year, can the team degenerate from putting out such phenomenally proud performances at Kashima, Suwon and, arguably, Niigata, to that excuse of a run-around?  From my experience at Ireland’s wonderful 1-1 ‘win’ at Lisbon in October 2000, we have lost the chance to join in this summer with the most genuine, friendly, perfect hosts I’ve encountered in any of my football trips.

After our quick exit from the ground, Finbarr and I glumly resigned to having a quiet meal and couple of drinks in Basel prior to taking the train to Zurich.  I think we may have even agreed to have an early night.  Upon our arrival in Zurich, we decided, for politeness sake, to force ourselves to have ‘just the one’ and say goodnight to the lads who’d skipped food and taken an earlier train home.  Thinking about it now, maybe the desire to postpone returning to the worst hotel in Western Europe proved fatal. At 5am, just before the last of the duty free ran out, we contemplated the Swiss national character.  They seemed completely baffled that we, after losing badly and failing to qualify were partying through the night, and they, after a perfect climax to their campaign, quietly slipped back to their homes, Cinderella-like, before midnight.

Despite all this, the trip was one of life’s memorable experiences and I’m already looking forward to the Faroe Islands away trip.  This time, perhaps, I’ll make the hotel bookings.