Sightseeing was on the agenda. I stumbled across the ground and main base for one of Tunis’s main clubs, Club Africaine. The grounds (there were a few pitches that all looked a bit tired) featured more than one fenced pitch and surprisingly, a small but neat and reasonably well stocked club shop. On sale were mainly items of club kit, tracksuits etc. Even snared myself the last shirt of last season’s kit for the knock down price of 8 euros. Who’s going to know the difference back in Australia? And would you believe it? The shirt wasn’t manufactured by Nike or Adidas. Umbro (remember them?) was proudly featured on the sleeves and body of the shirt. After a trip to the World Heritage site of Carthage, I spotted two football fans wander past. Which team were they supporting? They were from Casablanca in Morocco and were in town for the game the nex night (Sunday) between, Raja Casablanca and Esperance (EST), the local team who were the current holders of the African Champions League. It was a group game between the two top teams although Raja needed a point to ensure qualification to the knockout stage. The game was in a stadium at a place called Rades. The nearest train station was a good half hour walk from the ground, known as the Rades Olympic Stadium, but how to get there and how to get a ticket? I was excited at the prospect!

The next day two other Raja supporters told me that all Raja supporters were going to be let into the ground free of charge. This was a reciprocal arrangement as Raja had offered this same gesture to Esperance fans that had travelled to Morocco, a game the visitors had won 3-0. Interesting!

Back at reception I asked for directions to Esperance’s ground in order to buy a ticket for the game. He only had a rough idea where the ground was – despite the green square on the map being marked with the lines of a football pitch. I asked about the possibility of free entry for "us" Raja supporters. The look of shock on his face made it quite clear that no such thing would happen.

Finally found Esperance’s ground. There were a few people hanging around. A small open window looked like a ticket window, so I approached and in my best Arabic (schoolboy French really) I asked about a ticket for the game that evening. The response was “complet”. Hmmm! So where to from here? Locals hanging around looked like ticket touts, but I was reluctant to approach them. Then a local came up to the window to try and buy a ticket for himself. He got the same answer, saw me standing there looking wonderingly about my next move. He spoke good English (and good Arabic), and we got chatting. His advice was that the only way to get a ticket would be to buy from one of the touts. He was happy to do the buying if I was interested as he would be able to “negotiate” and wouldn’t get ripped off. So I stood to one side and he went off to speak to a man nearby. He returned to me and told me that he could get a couple of tickets for 30 dinars each. Was I interested? Go for it I told myself! The transaction was completed and I had a 20 dinar ticket for the princely sum of 30 dinars. That’s about 8 euros.

Over at the main line train station, I checked out trains to Rades. They ran every 20 minutes. Outside the station entrance, there were hundreds of green clad Raja supporters, getting ready to take the train to Rades. This looked like an adventure in the making. I bought a return ticket from Tunis to Rades for the princely sum of about 30 cents. The ticket said Rades and it was clearly a return ticket.

After taking the 6pm train to Rades, I set out following hundreds of Esperence fans to the ground. Bracing myself for the half hour walk, I was quickly facing a setback when all the locals just jumped down from the platform, onto the tracks and up onto the platform the other side and straight out the exit gate. In my younger days I would have been quite happy to follow risking life and limb, but not thesed days. There was only one thing for it, I had to be the only person who selected to cross the tracks via the pedestrian bridge that rose from the platform I was on and deposited me on the one opposite. Having exited the station I could see that the Esperance fans were now about 100 metres or more in front. I set off in chase. It looked like a lost cause. Gradually the tail end of the Esperance supporters out in front moved further away and try as hard as I could, I couldn’t close the gap. The street lights became fewer and further apart. I passed a butchers shop which had the decapitated head of a bovine creature hanging up and on the other side of the window were four lower legs presumably belonging to the head. There was no sign of the body. Eventually the Esperance supporters disappeared. After about 45 minutes I turned a corner and there, off in the distance were the lights of the Rades Olympic Stadium. There was a modest security check at the perimeter fence and once inside the grounds. Then I thought, “Why not?”. Let’s try to get the free entry and join the Raja Casablanca fans. So instead of turning left and heading off to Gate 5, I headed to Gate 33, the home of Raja supporters. I was the only one heading that way. A policeman approached me and in my best schoolboy French I told him that I was heading to Gate 33 and the Raja supporter bay. No problems! Another gate “guarded” by security personnel – mainly policemen. I held my passport and just said “Raja” and I was through. After the long walk I was in need of a visit to the men’s room. Raja supporters obviously had a problem with their aim. The floor of the toilets was covered in what could only be Moroccan pee. I waded in and left with a relieved bladder (having used the supplied urinal) and headed towards the terraces.

The ground had seats along each side. These were the only areas that were open to supporters with tickets (including me!). The ground capacity is about 65,000. No tickets had been sold for the standing area behind each goal where there were no seats. The exception was to open the lower tier to "us" Raja Casablanca supporters where no tickets had been issued. You just had to (supposedly) present your Moroccan passport to gain entry. I walked through the large tunnel and started to soak up the atmosphere. Dinner was bought from a bored looking man who had boxes of bread rolls filled with something.

The best vantage point was at the back of the lower tier. There was a no go zone to keep "us" Raja supporters away from the Esperance fans who occupied the seats along each side of the ground.

And so we ("us" Raja supporters) awaited kick off. As the teams came out for a warm up, the Esperance supporters found their voices and started to sing and cheer. The home choir lifted the roof of the stadium. The Raja supporters remained quiet. Kick off followed and the Esperance supporters became quiet. Why I don’t know. On the other hand, the Raja supporters came alive and began their vocal support. They kept this up throughout the game. The only exceptions were when they stopped to get their breath and when Esperance scored. When this happened, the home fans came to life, but it soon faded again and Raja supporters took up the cheering and singing. There appeared to be four groups of Raja supporters, identified by large banners / flags that they held aloft, the most noticeable being the Ultras. Whilst the majority of Raja fans were young Moroccan males, there were also a lot of young females and some young children. Most had something ‘green’. Scarves, shirts and flags draped round shoulders were the dress of choice. And because the green Raja kit clashed with the Red and Yellow striped shirts of Esperance, for this game Raja wore their away kit – all white.

Half time and it was 1-0 to the home side. The Raja supporters were not dispirited. Five minutes into the second half and Raja equalised. This was the signal for Esperance fans to become even quieter and the Raja supporters lifted a gear in the noise stakes. Raja scored a second with a fine goal. If the equaliser had encouraged Raja fans to lift the roof, this one helped them not only lift the roof but send it into orbit. The flares came out and were lit. The smoke created from so many flares created a huge smoke screen. The pitch was no longer visible. I was standing at the back of all the Raja fans so the effect was minimal on me. I did try to move towards one side so that I could see the resumption of play, but the police wouldn’t allow me to wander into the no man’s land that remained as an empty buffer zone between home and away supporters. Some young children were affected with smoke in their eyes. They were allowed to be taken into the buffer zone to have their eyes washed with bottled water. Credit to the police who assisted the children’s father. Being an enclosed bowl, the smoke took a while to drift away. There was no breeze to take it away. Raja were on the ascendancy and it looked curtains for Esperance when one of their players swung an arm and elbowed a Raja player in the face – right under the nose of the referee. No whistle; play on! There was no reaction from the Raja supporters. Later they told me that the referee was from The Gambia and was well known for being weak when it came to tough decisions. Eventually Esperance scored an equaliser. The home fans went wild and the Raja fans started to throw bottles of water across the buffer zone towards the Esperance supporters in the seated stand. (There’s a bit of a contradiction. You ‘sit in a stand’). The police with their riot gear sprang into action as 20 or so young shirtless Raja supporters charged towards the buffer zone. The police created a mini barrier and the charging Raja fans just stopped, didn’t try to break through the police line and just started to hurl abuse towards the home fans some 30 metres away. In addition, they continued to lob water bottles, 99% of which fell short of their target. Esperance fans lobbed a few water bottles back and the police just stood there watching. There was no need for them to antagonise any supporters by charging in. No damage was being done. You could almost say it was civilised rioting.

The game ended 2-2. Raja had achieved their goal of a point which ensured qualification for the quarter finals of the ACL. Esperance also qualified as winners of the group. I made my way down the steps of the terracing and headed towards the exit only to be stopped by a policeman. Raja supporters were being held back after the game to give Esperance supporters the chance to escape. Suddenly I didn’t want to be a Raja supporter. I played the “Je suis anglais” card. Didn’t work. We had to wait there for 40 minutes until the way was clear for us to all walk back to Rades station to get the train back to Tunis. There was nothing I could do. The Raja supporters were all very happy, taking selfies, singing and generally just relaxing. The police just stood around chatting. One appeared and I thought he looked very familiar. He was the splitting image of Mr Bean – Tunis style. I stood by the exit for about 10 minutes and then the policeman who had told me I had to wait 40 minutes gave me the nod and a flick of the head to silently say “off you go”. I didn’t need asking twice. Off I went to find the outside of the stadium just about empty. I had hoped to tag along behind Esperance supporters and walk with them back to the station. But there was no one. So I had to try and remember the route in reverse.

I retraced my steps and managed to make progress. Eventually I got to a roundabout and took the wrong exit. I asked a local the direction to the station but just got an answer that suggested he wasn’t being helpful. Then, back at the roundabout, a mass of people started to appear. They were walking from the direction of the stadium and heading towards Rades station. They were the Raja supporters. So off I went back towards the roundabout to follow my fellow Moroccans in the quest for the last train back to Tunis. It was a sort of Conga line and I joined somewhere in the middle. "We" were in good spirits. They were orderly and kept up a good pace back to the station. Gradually I was overtaken and eventually I was at the rear of the line. I soldiered on but it made no difference. Even the police escort vehicle that was going so slowly, any slower and it would have been going backwards, overtook me. I was losing touch. Eventually the police car stopped and one of the policemen got out and directed a comment in his best Arabic towards me. The gist was (as far as I could work out) was that he wanted me to go around the vehicle on the right side to continue my journey. So, I obliged. Then a Raja supporter saw what I was doing and stopped me saying something that I couldn’t understand. Finally, I got the gist of what was happening. The police were “ordering” me to get into their vehicle. Was I under arrest I wondered? I meekly got in (my feet and knees were pleased for the relief) and slowly the police vehicle continued at the snail’s pace it had been travelling at. My new best friend and fellow Raja supporter walking alongside the vehicle spoke to me through the window. Was he a lawyer I wondered? I used the “Je suis anglais” line again and suddenly he was speaking excellent English. It turned out that the police were giving me a lift as they didn’t want me to miss the train. They didn’t speak English, but their French was good and I was grateful. We arrived at the station and I alighted from my short custodial sentence and headed to the platform and a very crowded train. Suddenly my new best Raja friend was part of a group of about eight supporters. We got on the train and I braced myself for half an hour of strap hanging back to Tunis. But no, they cleared a path and vacated a seat for the old man and again gratefully I sat down. The whole journey back to Tunis was spent talking football. They were fascinated by the fact that I should want to go to the game and adopted me fully as one of their own. The person sitting next to me was finding online highlights of the game on his phone and the discussion point became centred around the second Esperance goal. There was an offside in the leadup to the shot that went in. They were annoyed. They were upset at the below par referee from The Gambia (they had encountered him before it appears – either that or his reputation of being weak when it came to making big decisions) but they were amazing. They just shrugged it off. There were no histrionics. They didn’t take it out on Tunisian railways. That was life! We arrived at Tunis station and disgorged ourselves onto the platform and stood there for about 10 minutes. The police were clearing the way up ahead to make sure there were no Esperance supporters around. Eventually "us" Raja fans were able to exit the station. There was one last thing to do though. An emotional and excited Raja fan (one of my new best friends) proudly gave me his sweat soaked Raja polo shirt. He was so proud to give it to me to thank me for supporting his team. I couldn’t say no, could I? Then they insisted on a group photo as we stood on the platform and I proudly held up the shirt. We walked off the platform where I said my farewell’s. Unfortunately, they never sent me the photo so you’ll have to take my word for all this.

I made my way back to the hotel, buoyed by an uplifting night of friendship, an unexpected game of football in the African Champions League between the holders and the wanna be holders. Oh, and don’t forget, I got into the ground without paying anything. The ticket I did buy becomes a souvenir. Try that at the Bernabeu or Nou Camp or Anfield or Old Trafford!

Post Script. The Quarter Finals saw Raja Casablanca advance to the Semi Finals whilst Esperance, the holders, lost. Also, through to the semi-finals were Raja’s fiercest cross town rivals, Wydad Casablanca. Raja supporters just refer to them as WC which is where they believe they belong. The Semi Finals sees two Moroccan teams facing two Egyptian teams. They’ll be played in early May 2020, Covid19 permitting.