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Nuremberg, Germany

In a previous blog I may have given the impression that the national stereotype was a thing of the past. How wrong was I?

Only an hour into Belgium, on the last leg of our Radio 5 Live Euro 2008 road trip, we stopped at a motorway caf茅 that was genuinely playing . Nearly 12 hours later, our end-of-day beer in North Bavaria was accompanied by !

After three weeks on the road in the UK and after meeting 14 of the 16 nations, 5 Live Sport presenter Mark Saggers very kindly, it first appeared, suggested we be rewarded with a trip to Vienna for the final. The only sting in the tail was that we had to make it to the Austrian capital by car. This was a road trip, after all.

We left our at 1030pm on Thursday. In a perverse sort of way, this was one of the most enjoyable nights so far. Beers and pizzas all round with our dozen young professionals, including estate agents and lawyers, who provided excellent company. Despite their raucous support, they were unable to cheer their team to a repeat of their .

We left them drowning their.sorrows and headed for Folkestone and a hotel that left a lot to be desired. Any chance of a hearty breakfast went out of the window when we encountered more than 300 OAPs fighting over the buffet. It was like a Shrove Tuesday hundred-a-side village football match!

When we hit Continental Europe, our route took us past a whole host of landmarks and cities - Dunkirk, the battlefields of , Bruges, etc. We nibbled the corner of Holland before entering Germany and pushing down the A3, past Cologne, into the Ruhr valley and on to Frankfurt, then encountering the worst traffic jam I've seen in 15 years. I thought the German motorways were ultra-efficient, so it must have been the sheer weight of traffic heading to Vienna for the final.

The most painful thing about it all was the fact we were within sniffing distance of Nuremberg, our overnight stop. It eventually took us two-and-a-half hours to travel the remaining 25 miles. When we hit the bar at 11pm, we were bent into L-shapes, with shooting pains in our left buttocks and another 300 miles to Vienna.