I see your cold, wet Tuesday night in Stoke and I raise you…
It is Thursday night in Almaty and Chelsea are rattling in the first-half goals against Astana, the most far-flung UEFA tie the London club could have been given. As Chelsea’s players carve out their fifth straight UEFA Conference League victory, those in the stands desperately attempt to stay warm. I can’t say I’d envisaged ever making a three-flight, 14-hour journey to the biggest city in Kazakhstan to watch my team play in sub-zero temperatures, but here we are.
Standing in the icy, snow-covered away end, with temperatures dipping to -12C as night fell, it was easy to lose sight of the match playing out on the pitch and instead marvel at the melting pot of over 20,000 supporters who had descended upon the city’s Central Stadium.
Focusing on the game itself is even more challenging when you have lost all feeling in your hands, feet, face… everywhere in fact. Two pairs of socks, winter boots, three pairs of trousers and five tops proved poor protection from the elements. This was a kind of cold that chills you to the core. It was inescapable.
But despite being very, very cold — and very much on the other side of the planet, of course — those of us who had made the journey were made to feel right at home as the away end erupted in a rousing chorus of “Tottenham Hotspur get battered everywhere they go” just before kick-off.
Admittedly, there was less of the London lilt to the accents bellowing it out, but our new-found Kazakh allies sang it with as much passion and distaste for the ‘enemy’ as you would hear from the Matthew Harding Lower back in London SW6.
Plenty of supporters had made it from England to Almaty. There were around 450 Chelsea fans at the game, nine of whom were from the Saffron Blues, including my dad Arthur, godfather Andrew and his son Oliver.
My three-flight trek paled into insignificance when I heard the odyssey others endured to make the 3,485-mile trip east.
Andrew and Oliver were far braver than me, coming via Bishkek, the capital of neighbouring Kyrgyzstan. But their plan to catch a bus across the border was a problem.
“We got to the bus station Tuesday morning to find out that it wasn’t a bus station,” said Andrew. “It was closed. So we did worry a little bit.
“Then we just bottled it and got a taxi for five hours, which was a fascinating journey with a taxi where the boot wouldn’t close, everything was freezing up, and very suspicious noises were coming from the car for the first few hours of the drive.”
I asked whether this journey was the craziest thing he’d done in his 40-plus years of following Chelsea. “This is definitely in the top one of one. I don’t think anything will match this. Oliver will be telling my grandchildren long after I’ve departed from this world about the three days he had in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan.”
Others had been looking forward to exploring the capital, Astana, before taking the short flight down to Almaty, only to be confronted by -26C conditions which made going outside impossible.
Stan, the man pictured in the fetching Santa beard three photos up, told me, “It’s a game that a Chelsea fan can never miss, the furthest you’d ever travel. It’s just a must-come-to game.” And on battling the extraordinary conditions in Astana? “I only had my trainers on so I had to buy a pair of boots.”
Yet there were also Chelsea fans with whom I spoke while wandering the freezing but sun-drenched streets of the city on the day of the game who had travelled from even more exotic settings to attend the tie.
“Hello, I’m Producer Lucy from the Straight Outta Cobham podcast” is my new catchphrase, and I’ll be thoroughly disappointed if we have not gained a new legion of fans from across Eastern Europe and Central and East Asia.
It did not take long to realise that we were in the midst of a football and, more importantly, Chelsea-loving city with an allegiance having been built up during Roman Abramovich’s time as owner. But the city was also welcoming travelling fans with open arms, not only from across Kazakhstan but pretty much everywhere, including some from India, whose baggage had been lost in transit, meaning an entirely new winter wardrobe was required to brave the elements.
Sam recounted his “travel nightmare” all the way from Mumbai to Kazakhstan via Delhi. “I lost my bags midway, so jumped out, got new ski boots, got new clothes, then five more hours to Almaty. So it was basically a 21-hour flight.”
And then there were the Mongolians. All 55 of them, to be precise.
I was previously blissfully unaware of the ferocity of support for Chelsea in the world’s most sparsely populated sovereign state, but, on the way to the ground, we stumbled across a remarkable group of fans, including some in the photograph at the top of this piece. Led by Zaya, a Liverpool-supporting sports commentator (we never quite got to the bottom of that), they had travelled for four days via coach to make the pilgrimage to watch their adopted Blues.
Self-confessed “fanatics”, they were certainly the most joyous party we encountered; it was impossible not to feel instantly uplifted by their love of Chelsea and excitement to be watching their favourites in the flesh, even if the side that took to the frost-covered field had a decidedly C-team feel.
It feels slightly incongruous that so many fans from a majority-Buddhist country had taken to following a club that has been anything but tranquil over the last few years, though I suppose Enzo Maresca’s arrival and the team’s upturn in form this season has been a bit of an awakening…
In a traditional Kazakh restaurant, Qaimaq, in the shadows of the stadium, we met yet more Chelsea fans who had travelled from far and wide. Over a plate of the local delicacy, horse meat dumplings, one local explained how his father had converted him into a supporter, too. His dad had been a fan since 1976 and, with games not shown on television, listened to radio commentaries translated into Russian on his radio in the days of the Soviet Union.
He boasted no English except for one, specific name, and it may have been my frozen ears deceiving me, but I could have sworn he called him Cold Palmer.
For many of those en route back to England, the return journeys would likely prove just as epic. Some had four connecting flights to make via Georgia and Poland, while others were taking late-night internal trips across Kazakhstan. Andrew and Oliver were initially greeted with news of an 11-hour delay on the first leg of their return journey to Aktau (the city is on the eastern banks of the Caspian Sea in the south-west of Kazakhstan) which they were hoping was just a false alarm. The magical mystery tour would continue for them.
I drew the long straw: a 10-hour flight direct from Almaty back to London Heathrow on what’s being called the ‘Chelsea Special’ just like it was in the 1980s, filled almost exclusively with supporters.
And we weren’t going home empty handed, either. The club gifted each of the travelling 450 fans a commemorative keychain which read ‘Over land & sea — Stamford Bridge to Almaty — 3,485 miles’. A lovely souvenir with which to remember the trip, albeit impossible to forget this most unique of away days.
I come away from my 48 hours in Kazakhstan having been starved of sleep and warmth, but full of that unquantifiable fuzzy feeling inside. To have shared the experience with my dad — who left me with absolutely no choice from birth as to which football team I should follow — made it even more special.
I know it sounds horribly cliched, but this trip really reinforced for me that, while football can be a divisive and toxic place, it is also able to provide joy, togetherness and a sense of community like nothing else.
GO DEEPER
The Briefing: Astana 1 Chelsea 3: Acheampong impresses, Chukwuemeka’s rare start, academy joy
(Top photo by Lucy Oliva)