What's it like to travel to a Euros in multiple countries during a pandemic?
Best laid plans and all that. As the clock ticked down ever closer to the start of the delayed Euro 2020 and a multi-country format that even its architect Michel Platini described as a zany idea long before COVID-19 had cast a dark shadow over the continent, the overwhelming emotion for this usually intrepid traveller was not the usual excitement but stress and anxiety. Tickets, initially bought in 2019, had finally been confirmed after a tortuous wait to see if my luck had held in the UEFA ballot to decide who should be allowed to attend fixtures being played in reduced-capacity stadia. But there were plenty of other factors keeping me awake at night ahead of what was supposed to be a relaxing holiday watching football. Quarantine rules in Russia were uppermost in the mind. No one seemed to know. Pleas for clarity to UEFA and the UK Government went unanswered, while the Russian Embassy in Londons reply was restricted to five words. Good day. Follow the news. Attached were three links, two of which contradicted each other. Great. Such was the confusion that at least one British tabloid had decided not to send a reporter as planned to St Petersburg, instead opting to cover the games off the TV. A report published on ESPN three days before the finals were due to start, stating due to concerns over the so-called Delta variant in the United Kingdom, any fans travelling from Great Britain must quarantine in a Russian hotel for 14 days, hardly eased any growing nerves. As if that wasnt enough, it was also necessary to establish the criteria for entering Azerbaijan and Hungary, the other two scheduled stop-offs during a fortnight on the road. Every country seemed to have its own rules, particularly regarding PCR tests and when they could be taken. All this was a long way from the festival of football promised by Platini, then UEFA president, after his plan to take the 2020 tournament to all corners of the continent had been given the green light in 2012. Id loved the concept, ostensibly conceived to celebrate the 60th anniversary of the Championships. Having spent 17 days in Portugal following England in Euro 2004 and the best part of a month in Germany for the World Cup a couple of years later, the joys of becoming immersed in tournament football are familiar. This, though, took things to a whole new level. Fast forward to this spring, however, and the world had become a very different place. No longer was moving from country to country as simple as hopping on board the budget airlines Platini had once pointed critics towards as a solution whenever the logistics of his grand plan were questioned. Getting from, say, Moscow to Baku via a few days in Tbilisi  as had been our travelling partys initial plan for the Euros in 2020  was now nigh on impossible. For a start, many borders were still closed to all non-nationals. Azerbaijan having been at war with neighbours Armenia since the tournament had been put back a year added another level of complication. Nevertheless, the plan was still to go. And not just because, as a careful Yorkshireman, I wanted to use the credit vouchers doled out by Aeroflot, Azerbaijan Airlines et al when last years trip had to be cancelled. After 16 months cooped up at home, I simply wanted to get out into the world again. Hence why, with butterflies fluttering away in the stomach, I found myself approaching passport control at Pulkovo Airport in St Petersburg, shortly before midnight on the opening night of the delayed Euro 2020. Ten minutes later and I was on a bus heading towards the city centre, the presentation of my FAN-ID enough to answer the guards enquiry as to why I was visiting Russia. The relief was overwhelming. My personal Euro journey had begun. Baku had by now been scratched from the itinerary. Wed held on to the tickets for Turkey-Switzerland but the logistics were just too hard. So, that left two games in St Petersburg  Finland-Russia and Poland-Slovakia, the latter a late purchase after the game had been switched from Dublin with Google translate helping secure the access code required to buy a ticket from the Slovakian FAs official allocation. Then, after a few days relaxing in Moscow  a place Id loved since first visiting in the 1990s  it was on to Budapest for France-Portugal in a fixture that not only pitted the World Cup holders against the reigning European champions but also brought the curtain down on the group stage. It was also due to be played in front of a full house, the first time Id experienced such a thing since the pandemic had struck. All three games did not disappoint. Sitting among the Slovakia fans as their side beat Poland 2-1 was great fun. As was being inside the hugely impressive Krestovsky Stadium two days later as 30,000 patriotic locals belted out the Russian national anthem ahead of their must-win clash against Finland. Less fun that day was the rather invasive search from an unsmiling member of the militia who took great exception to me failing to empty my back pocket of a rather tatty St Petersburg map when passing through the metal detector scanners at the turnstiles. My Russian extends not much further than spasibo and pivo but I suspected the parting greeting from this rather angry chap was not along the lines of, Enjoy the match, sir. Otherwise, the Russians really couldnt have been more friendly. Pubs, restaurants, even on the metro  once our English accents had been detected, everyone wanted to talk. Mainly about why we were visiting amid a pandemic, admittedly, before talk turned to football and  a surprisingly large number of times  what is likely to happen to the Royal Family when the Queen passes away. Of course, amid the fun and the football, the threat of COVID-19 remained ever-present in the background. Social distancing does not seem to be a thing in Russia, while even those sporting a mask seemed to believe its best use was to keep the chin warm. This was particularly the case on the metro, even though staff and the police left anyone heading towards the escalators in no doubt as to the need to cover both the nose and mouth. Sadly, the ramifications of this rather indifferent attitude towards social distancing and mask-wearing came five or so days into our trip when all bars and restaurants were ordered to close at 11pm. With Moscow being two hours ahead of the UK, this brought a real quandary when watching England-Scotland as Pivbar, our venue of choice, had to close just as the second half got underway at Wembley. My solution was to dash back to the hotel via the metro to catch the final half-hour, while my friend Barry opted instead to watch through the bar window after closing time. Considering the football on offer, the best option would surely have been for an early night. Three days later and Russias own involvement in Euro 2020 was over, courtesy of a horrendous 4-1 defeat to Denmark in Copenhagen. A country crashing out of a tournament invariably has an impact on enthusiasm levels so I was glad to have moved on to Budapest. Here, entry requirements were much more straightforward. A negative PCR test, presented at passport control along with a valid match ticket, meant you were in. And there was no quarantine, providing visitors stayed no longer than 72 hours. Admission to the Puskas Arena was just as simple. A wristband, handed out at four different locations across the city including the airport on presentation of a negative PCR test no more than 72 hours old, guaranteed entry. That wasnt the end of the help for visiting fans, either. For those who required an up-to-date PCR test, a mobile testing centre was set up in the shadow of the stadium on the day before the match. Results were then emailed within 12 hours, meaning supporters could collect their wristbands in plenty of time. Hungary have rightly come in for criticism over the behaviour of some supporters at Euro 2020 but the authorities deserve credit for going above and beyond in their quest to be the only country to stage matches in front of a full house, as happened in all three group games. I must admit to feeling rather emotional looking down from the front row of the upper tier at one end of the stadium as part of the 54,886 crowd, as Portugal and France shared four goals and three groups of supporters battled to make themselves heard. Ronaldo scores one of his penalties against France in a packed stadium in Budapest  The sizeable French contingent gave it their all directly below me, as did the Portuguese masses at the other end. But the locals just about prevailed in the noise stakes, the chanted Hya-Hya-Hunga-ria mantra as their team went 1-0 and then 2-1 up 400 or so miles away in Munich still stuck in this mind almost a week on. Well never know just what sort of party Budapest would have hosted last Wednesday had Hungary held on to make it through the group stages. But my guess is it would have gone on all night. Nevertheless, the long walk down the stairs from the top tier  think the mammoth trek to the visiting seats at Newcastles St James Park and add at least 100 steps  was still done amid a celebratory atmosphere. This continued once back on terra firma, as Portuguese, French and Hungarian fans mixed happily on a still sweltering night as the temperature gauge resolutely remained above 30 degrees Celsius despite it now being 11pm. It felt a fitting way to sign off this most challenging of Euro travelling odysseys. Home and 10 days quarantine  something the Hungarians thought was outrageous considering my second jab had been administered in May  was calling. I landed back in the UK glad to have made the effort and hopeful that before long a return to watching the match in this country in front of a full house might just be the norm once again. I also hope UEFA can learn a few lessons, too. Especially when it comes to communicating with a group the governing body loves to trumpet as the life and soul of the game, the supporters. There is no doubt that delivering Platinis vision amid a pandemic will have been a logistical nightmare but the ticket process could  and really should  have been more fan-friendly. With some stadia operating at only a quarter of capacity, there was always going to be disappointment among supporters who missed out when their own tickets were cancelled. What made this process all the more galling, however, was the lack of communication as to what was going on with the ballot. Once social media started pinging early in the second week of May with frustrated grumbles from those who had lost tickets for Hampden Park, no one had a clue which venue would be next on the chopping block or even when. That the only emails being sent out by UEFA were to those whose tickets had been cancelled meant the rest of us could only assume no news was good news. Not that this was enough to take the shine off a fortnight that felt  with a few caveats  like a welcome step back towards a world that not so long ago we all took for granted. And for that, Ill always be grateful to the delayed Euro 2020. (Photo: Bernadett Szabo/Pool/AFP via Getty Images)