The Arctic trek to Swansea

Niamh O'Mahony

THE planning always starts early. It was September when we bought our match tickets and made our travel plans for Munster's Heineken Cup visit to the Ospreys, but we could never have imagined at that stage what our trek to Swansea would actually entail.

It's my own personal adage that you shouldn't worry about things you can't control, and after surviving timetable changes and the cancellation of Aer Lingus' Cork to Cardiff route, we arrived at Cork Airport just about on time because of the early morning icy conditions last Friday.

First hurdle negotiated, we found ourselves bound for Bristol amid talk of freezing temperatures and severe weather warnings... Were we mad? Possibly. But then for anyone who has regularly sampled the atmosphere at Munster away games, you'll know it's worth a certain degree of awkwardness and hassle to be part of the travelling Red Army.

The plane was full of separate pockets of supporters, each acknowledging the other with a quick nod and discussion of travel routes and options. Trains ran pretty much on time and when we arrived in Cardiff - our chosen base - heavy snow was leaving inches of the white stuff everywhere and had every soul in red scrambling for information about weather conditions in Swansea.

Via Twitter, both Ospreys and Munster did their best to convey to the rugby community that the match would go ahead and after a quick shopping expedition (regular woolly hat, socks and gloves were completely insufficient, though we did have the sense to bring waterproof, hiking-style boots), we availed of some local hospitality in... ahem... O'Neill's on Mary Street, a spot well known to most Munster supporters.

The dots of red heading towards Cardiff Central the following morning was the ultimate green light, and packed trains brought hundreds of both Munster and Osprey fans to Swansea. Overheard conversations suggested it was bedlam on roads all over Wales and that anyone who had designs on making kick-off had turned to rail options.

Setting out on the walk to the ground, it was apparent that the Ospreys had done an incredible job to ensure the fixture went ahead. Open clubhouse doors, the smell of mulled wine and the vocals of the local choir greeted supporters as the reached the Liberty Stadium, and the atmosphere was seasonally jovial despite the freezing cold.

The Welsh are very much like ourselves. They like a bevy or two around sporting occasions and they like a bit of banter, but once the whistle blows they take their rugby extremely seriously.

Munster started promisingly - Ronan O'Gara kicking the visitors ahead with his first penalty chance. Strangely for such a relatively new stadium, there is no big screen inside the ground and that proved to be particularly frustrating, especially during the lengthy wait for the TMO to award Mike Phillips' try.

 Tony McGahan's men did seem to ask more questions early on, and – with red tinted glasses on - it was a case of just rewards when Tony Buckley barged over for the opening try. Disappointingly, Phillips hit back almost straight away and when the scrum - always under pressure despite some recent improvements - caved again, Dan Biggar edged his team ahead.

Surrounded in almost equal measures of red and black in the Tesco Stand, supporters battled to be heard over each other until a second-half onslaught from Munster brought everyone in red to their feet on several occasions. For all their efforts though, it was the Ospreys that struck next and though Keith Earls went over to keep things exciting, there was a sense that time (and all feeling in our limbs) was ebbing away as O'Gara missed the conversion.

The final whistle brought cheers of delight and relief from the home supporters. Chilling temperatures prevented the usual post-match banter and sharing of war stories, though there were plenty of watering holes and eateries in the immediate area of the stadium for everyone to enjoy - something all sporting codes here should take note of.

The return journey to Bristol was no less interesting than the inward leg. We dragged suitcases across snow covered paths and roads to get to our main train connections. We made it to the Airport well ahead of time, just in case, got charged for having too much luggage and made it back to Cork only 40 minutes behind schedule.

The same hardy group of travellers made it to Geneva in January of 2007 when they played Bourgoin under the shadow of the Alps, but that was nothing compared to what we had to overcome to sing the Fields of Athenry on this occasion! Wales in the snow… what a pretty sight, even if the final result wasn’t quite what we wanted.

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