The sun sets in Stranraer

Stranraer 3-2 Dumbarton
Stair Park
Petrofac Training Cup, First Round
Saturday 26th July 2014

The programme

For anyone that wants to visit every football ground in the country (or even a division) you can guarantee there will be at least one club which poses a ridiculously long trek and sometimes makes you even question why you want to do visit them in the first place.

In England, it may be Plymouth, Hartlepool or Yeovil - the latter of which always seems to take an eternity find, no matter what. In Wales, the problematic club might mean a jaunt over to Aberystwyth - or finding a sensible budget-cost way to get to Bangor City. Scotland, arguably, is the toughest of the collections to complete, given that as soon as you venture away from the grounds in the central belt, you come across some pretty weird, wacky and wonderful locations. For example, Peterhead is some 35 miles from the nearest station (Aberdeen) which is at the end of the East Coast mainline, whilst Stranraer, at the other end of the country, is even more obscure with just a handful of trains going there per day - and not all at hours which makes it feasible to 'tick it off' within a day. And that's before you even consider how difficult it might be to get to Brora Rangers (some 60 miles NORTH of Inverness) or Formartine United, if either of them gain promotion from the Highland League at any point in the future.

If you don't drive (or can't find anyone gullible enough to be convinced by your reasons for going to some of these places), then it becomes an even bigger issue, as you have to rely on public transport.

So, with that in mind, I'd already began thinking 'outside the box' as to how to do a visit to Stair Park.

Stranraer in all its glory!

After much deliberation, I decided that there mouth-watering Petrofac Training Cup, First Round, clash at home to Dumbarton on Saturday 26th July was just too good to miss. After all, this is the competition that dreams are made of, right?

Having researched several travel options (and discounting many of them due to cost), I eventually plumped for the sensible option of getting a National Express coach up to Stranraer from Manchester, having a day there, and then catching the coach back to civilisation after the game.

Sensible, I hear you say? The only issue was the coach wasn't scheduled to depart Manchester until 1.00am, arriving in Stranraer at 6.30am. Then, I wouldn't be leaving Stranraer until 10.30pm at night - and the game was a bog standard 3.00pm Saturday afternoon kick-off. Undeterred, I went ahead and booked tickets at a very reasonable £32 for a return ticket. This was it, I was going to that place Brian Potter screamed about on Phoenix Nights and I couldn't contain my excitement.

The entrance to Stair Park, with the main stand just visible.

The day before the game I'd been to watch Sheffield United vs Dundee at Bramall Lane and, thankfully, apart from a guy with greasy hair sat right in front of me, the journey up to Scotland went smoothly - arriving in what resembled a ghost town on time.

My sightseeing tour of Stranraer lasted all of five minutes, before boredom took hold and the fact that kick-off wasn't for another eight hours suddenly dawned on me. After spending well over an hour in Subway, (very) slowly scoffing a lovely 12-inch sub, I improved my time-killing techniques by visiting a nearby supermarket, treating myself to another sightseeing tour, before eventually stumbling across the Stranraer FC Supporters Social Club in the town centre. Open at 11.00am, with live sport on TV, and a good friendly atmosphere, I'd managed to save myself from boredom.

Three hours later, I eventually took the ten-minute or so walk up to Stair Park in anticipation of the Petrofac Cup 'classico'. My initial impressions of Stair Park was exactly what I'd expected - it's your typical Scottish lower league football ground. The large all-seated main stand dominates things and it's a pleasant enough venue.

The view from the main stand as the teams warm up.

The game itself exceeded expectations with the visitors, plying their trade one division above their counterparts, racing into what seemed a comfortable enough two-goal cushion at the break. Nevertheless, Stranraer weren't about to go down without a fight and after deservedly leveling things up, just as it seemed that extra-time was about to happen, they snatched a goal in injury-time to make it 3-2 - leaving some of Dumbarton's directors looking VERY gloomy faced.

Afterwards, it was back to the social club for a few more drinks, before visiting the supermarket to grab some essential supplies (that means Scotch pies - undoubtedly the best part of every trip north of the border), ahead of the journey back to civilisation.

Sunset over Stranraer, taken from the coach window.

Having been fortunate to sleep all the way back to Manchester, the four-hour wait for my connecting train seemed to pass relatively quickly, and I arrived back home just shy of midday.

The adventure was over, but one of the most difficult grounds was off the list at last.