If only Portuguese kindness could kick football violence

Lisbon Letter: It is mid-morning in the conforto class of the Lisbon-Porto swanky fast train, writes Paddy Agnew.

Lisbon Letter: It is mid-morning in the conforto class of the Lisbon-Porto swanky fast train, writes Paddy Agnew.

Your correspondent is nicely settled in, laptop on the go, cup of free coffee at hand, and soothing music on the train-supplied headphones.

All seems well until the dreaded ticket inspector makes an appearance. He takes one look at my Euro 2004 football special and shakes his head ruefully. Oh no, he says, you are on the wrong train.

He did not say it but there was the unspoken implication that I would have to be mad to think that CP (Portuguese Railways) would let football fans loose on its most fashionable, high-speed, all-comfort trains.

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The inspector, however, was sorry for me. Lest I did not understand the error of my ways, he summoned an English-speaking student from two seats up to inform me that I must get off the good old conforto at the next station, Entroncamento.

There, after a half-hour wait, I would be able to clamber onto the non-conforto class football special, thus returning to my proper level in Portuguese travelling society.

The inspector was so worried about my dilemma that when we arrived in Entroncamento, he even got off with me and introduced me to the local station master, recommending that he ensure I got on the right train out of there.

Such was the kindness of the inspector that I hadn't the heart to tell him that I could understand only too well the difference between his train and the football special, but had opted for the former on the age-old travelling hack's "chance-your-arm" basis.

In sleepy Entroncamento, too, one had time to admire the handsome tiled station bar, complete with handbasin, soap and towel strategically placed along the wall, right in the middle of the café.

There was time, too, for a second Portuguese breakfast, of galao (a milky sort of coffee, rather on the weak side for those accustomed to the cappuccino), accompanied by a little almond pie.

(Pastèis de bacalhau, i.e., cod fish cakes, were available, but that is not your correspondent's early-morning style).

Such kindly little gestures as that of the inspector are part and parcel of the Portuguese experience for the Euro 2004 visitor. One suspects that normally friendly and easy-going Portuguese ways have been boosted by a sense of national pride that senses this is too important an occasion not to do a bella figura.

It would be hard, too, to avoid the national obsession with the football championships.

Every taxi and a lot of private cars carry the obligatory national flag. Streets are lined with the flags of all 16 participating nations, whilst on television, radio and on advertising hoardings all over the country the Portuguese team and its individual stars make their presence felt daily.

It would be nice to think that the civilising combination of heat, elegant surrounds and friendly people will even eliminate the threat of English fan violence.

Before the tournament is over (on July 4th) that may prove a hope too far, but what we can say is that last Sunday in downtown Lisbon, an estimated 30,000 English fans mixed with some 20,000 French, Dutch, Swedish and other fans in a truly peaceful, party atmosphere.

Some of the fans stopped to watch a display of Portuguese folk dancing in the Baixa area down by the seafront.

Others wisely opted to get out of the stifling heat, treating themselves to grilled fish and fine Portuguese wines in the hundreds of little restaurants-cum-bars that were doing a very lively trade. The guide books tell you that there are 365 ways of cooking dried salt cod (bacalhau). Certainly, there were that many glorious, hunger-arousing smells down by the waterfront on Sunday.

Neutrals might wonder why Portugal even bothered, why it opted to spend €700 million plus not only on the building and restructuring of eight stadiums but also on related road, railway and metro projects.

Surely they did not need a football tournament to attract people to Portugal?

That question will become all the more awkward if and when fan violence raises its ugly head in earnest.

In the meantime, though, Antonio Florencia of the Portuguese Euro 2004 organising committee is convinced that the Portuguese tax-payer has got value out of the tournament: "Millions of TV viewers worldwide have seen splendid images of Portugal, our handsome cities, our modern stadia. That sort of publicity is priceless," he told The Irish Times this week.

So then, we asked, as far as the Portuguese people are concerned, the tournament is a huge success? "Well, that depends on the football team. If they start winning, then yes it is a huge success." Over to the Estadio Da Luz, Lisboa.