El Superclásico

“Un clásico” is the Spanish name for a football derby and Buenos Aires hosts one of the most famous and hotly contested in the world: “el superclásico” between city rivals Boca Juniors and River Plate. They are by far the best supported teams in the country, with Boca claiming that 50% of Argentinians, plus one, follow them. If so most of the other 50% minus one would be for River!

I was predictably excited that the fixture was taking place the day after my arrival in Argentina. The tickets were prohibitively expensive, but I was nonetheless able to get a real feel for the passion the match elicits in the city.

River’s stadium, El Monumental, is very near to the apartment in which we’re staying, in an affluent and European-feeling part of the city. Today’s game though took place in the neighbourhood of La Boca (the mouth – of the Matanza river), formerly a port district, which feels somewhat edgier but which has heaps of character, with its colourful facades and murals to great players. The contrast in social backgrounds of the clubs’ traditional fanbases sets the tone for the rivalry.

Our hosts, my sister-in-law Estefi and her family, very kindly drove me into La Boca during the game. The streets were busy, with almost everyone wearing Boca’s iconic blue and yellow, and huge crowds congregating around every bar, trying to get sight of a screen. We got out of the car just as Boca scored the first goal, leading to scenes of wild celebration that made the atmosphere at Watford v Luton look very tame!

Not being in club colours and having attracted the attentions of a few individuals sadly the worse for wear for drugs, we decided not to stick around for long. On the way back though, we realised there was actually a safer route, with a higher police presence, to the stadium itself. And so we walked up to the legendary Bombonera, so-named by the fans because, with its three sides of stands, it resembles a box of sweets. Our arrival again turned out to be perfectly timed, as it coincided with Boca going 2-0 up (which ended up being the only other goal of the game) – cue more singing and jumping, inside and outside the ground:

Very satisfied that we had sampled the superclásico atmosphere without paying the exorbitant cost of a ticket (they were $550 when I first looked but three times that this morning), we headed into the next district to watch the rest of the game in a British pub. There was a friendly atmosphere, with fans of both teams present, although quite a few of them were from our islands and were just lending their support for the day!

The British presence is quite noticeable in Buenos Aires, not just in pubs and in the popularity of the ball games we brought over (and the English names the teams were given), but also in some of the architecture and in the fact the British built the railways here. This morning I attended the Remembrance Sunday service at the Anglican Cathedral. Two days after being in the Amazon, it was somewhat surreal to be singing “God save the King” in a familiar-feeling setting! It was a lovely service, featuring a choir, organ and bagpiper, who played a hauntingly beautiful rendition of “Amazing Grace” at the end.

It turned out the flag-bearers and bagpiper, all in kilts, were Argentinian (although the piper had a Scottish parent). I spoke to some of them and they had a deep affection for Scottish culture, feeling it was part of their own national heritage too.

My first meal in Argentina last night was, after much anticipation, one of the steaks for which the country is famed. It didn’t disappoint! It was lovely to be reunited with family, and the restaurant was bedecked in football shirts, one of which was donated by the first of Argentina’s two legendary number 10s.

My second meal out was a joyous coming together of two families: my brother Paul’s, and Estefi’s. It was so lovely all to be together after their nuptials last year and the warmth of the welcome we have received has been quite overwhelming.