retiredmartin

Having taken the mick (he’s my uncle) out of Norwich all week it was obvious they’d beat City on Saturday in what has variously been described as “The biggest shock in Premier League history” (Norwich FM) and “A good day out on the p**s ” (City fans).

Many of those City fans seem to have made a detour via Wycombe (home of Reading Women, oddly) on the way home to watch the women’s team. I thought I’d join them and jump on the women’s football bandwagon.

As true football fans will know, Adams Park in Wycombe is the most inaccessible football ground in England (though getting out of the London Stadium takes half an hour longer on foot).

To avoid the crowds I walked from the town centre and my only new Wycombe tick. It’s possible the walk takes in 3 different counties and 4 time zones.

To find Heidrun, look for the flashy new Uni building and take the underpass with the swan in it.

The Heidrun opens at 11am on Sunday, says the infallible WhatPub.

Of course it doesn’t. No-one opens early on Sunday apart from you-know-who. The best way to work out correct opening times is to add an hour at the start and take an hour from the end to anything you see in print. Except Spoons. Spoons are probably right.

But the nice man saw my sad expression, took pity, and let me in early to serve me a half of Cloudwater Pale which was splendid (NBSS 3.5). I’m taking his word that it was cask.

This is a classy place with classy craft beers and a nice accompaniment to that Mad Squirrel place near the church.

Tick ticked, I had the joy of that 47 minute dull uphill walk to the ground to make kick-off.

Did it in 38, and still composed enough to take this marvellously blurry shot of young City fans which actually looks quite arty.

City had brought more fans for a women’s game four hours from home than some Premier League teams bring to the Etihad; about half a crowd of 900.

Every player has a (clean) song about them, with most affection for Jill “Tough as Nails” Scott.

Most of the Wycombe/Reading fans are Dads with bored toddlers. In contrast half the City fans are middle-aged blokes like me. What can it all mean.

“If you’re not that keen on Man United clap your hands” we sing.

Despite the closure of the club bar, it’s a good day in baking sunshine in the Chilterns, watching City stroll to a 2-0 win at dogged Berkshire opposition.

But the walk back to town is tough.