We arrived in La Boca, a real blue-collar area of tight streets and terraced houses, run-down and ‘raffish to the core’, apparently. We entered La Bombonera, home of the famous Boca Juniors football team (who a certain Diego Maradona played for) and had a look around the museum, which was a collection of Boca shirts through the ages, a ‘wall of stars’ featuring every player who has ever played for Boca, footage of classic Boca matches, and of course the trophy room, featuring all their league and cup trophies. We joined a tour of the stadium, led, not by a local from La Boca, but by a Colombian named Diego. He did his best to help us feel the pride and passion of those who support Boca. “To greet the away fans, in their tiny section, there are no toilets. And the emergency exit, is only a painting. There is no escape.” He explained, matter-of factly. “We don’t sell them any food, any drink. Nothing. That’s how we welcome away fans.”

The stadium is very steep, and the seats on the either length of the pitch are all pre-sold to fans for the season, which leaves one end behind the goals for the famously passionate Boca fans. A number 12 is painted on the terraces here, to show how important the fans are – like an extra man for the team. We stood here in the terraces, as Diego explained the ritual of what happens when Boca score a goal. Everybody charges to the huge metal fence separating the fans from the pitch, and climb right up to the top if the can –  very high and difficult climb. Diego wanted us to try it. Alex, subdued, sprang into life at this idea. I felt sorry for Alex. 11 years ago, he had been standing in these very terraces, amongst the Boca fans during a local derby vs River Plate on a glorious sunny afternoon. Now, on an overcast bitter day at the same place, the place was empty save our tour group, and the harsh contrast had soured his mood. “You should never go back. I’ve seen too much. Too much, too young….” he grumbled, before sprinting to the fence on Diego’s count. I did the same, but could only get up half-way, the thin metal wire cutting into my hands . Alex, however, made it to the top, maybe he needed the challenge, something new to do. He came down carefully – a fall would probably be followed with a visit to the hospital. I can’t believe during the games that nobody has fallen to serious injury, or their death. Maybe if they do fall it is broken by the mass of bodies underneath. After this we went to the changing rooms – well, the away changing room, we weren’t allowed into Boca’s. Then to the press room, then it was over. An interesting and informative tour, and the guide, Diego, did his best to warm and cheer us all on this freezing day. I almost bought a Boca shirt from the stadium shop, then headed across the road where all the shops were selling fake versions. Right across the road! Even the girl in the stadium admitted to wearing a fake top.