What are 'football pilgrimages' and why are they on the rise?

Before the first whistle blows, you feel it — the drums, the tremors, the electricity rising from a crowd that lives and breathes the game. This is football in South America, and it’s exactly what hooked sports writer Christopher Hylland, sending him on marathon ground-hopping adventures across the continent. With ‘football pilgrimages’ booming among fans hungry for authenticity, he lays out what makes these journeys irresistible — and why, sometimes, a match is worth crossing an ocean for.

Sports tourism is on the rise. Why do you think we’re seeing a growth in this kind of travel?

Among many fans in the UK and Europe in particular, there’s a rejection of the commercialised state of ‘modern football’, and I think that’s why ground-hopping trips or ‘football pilgrimages’ abroad have become so popular recently. For example, you can get a lot more for your money by going to watch Borussia Dortmund in the Bundesliga in Germany — cheap ticket, cheap flight and good beer — than getting the train down to London for a big Premier League match.

What makes football so special in South America?

It’s tempting to just say the passion, but while that’s true, it barely scratches the surface. In the UK and much of Europe, football has become increasingly sanitised, with VIP lounges, theatre-style seating and dynamic pricing. But in South America — especially in Argentina and Brazil — it’s different. The game still belongs to the people; it’s accessible, chaotic and cheap. I was overwhelmed by the intensity of the first Superclásico I attended: the thick blizzard of confetti, the jumping fans who make La Bombonera shake, and the vibrations you feel through your body as 50,000 fans scream “Goooal!” I couldn’t hold back a couple of tears. That intensity is what makes it so unforgettable.

What makes South America particularly good for a football pilgrimage?

UK travellers might not get a cheap flight to the likes of Buenos Aires, but once they’re there, they’ll get an awful lot for their money, especially if they’re going for a ground-hopping trip. Sports fans can tick off 20 grounds in two weeks if that’s their sole motivation.

Beyond the Buenos Aires giants, Argentinos Juniors is a great club for a stadium tour or two. Maradona’s first house — given to him and his family so he could move out of the slum Villa Fiorito — is now a museum, La Casa de D10S. From there, the stadium, Estadio Diego Armando Maradona, is a few blocks’ walk and is full of Maradona murals. The club’s own museum is also well worth a visit.

Once you’ve made the journey across the Atlantic, it’d be a waste not to visit Machu Picchu in Peru or Cristo Redentor in Rio de Janeiro. That said, I’ve come across ground-hoppers whose sole focus is to tick off as many football stadiums as possible. Distances across South America are vast, but intercity travel is decent and there’s a lot of great hostels, travel companies and information online to make it easy, even for those who don’t speak Spanish. I’d recommend a month in one country rather than four weeks spread across two or three.

What other tips would you give to sports fans when planning a football pilgrimage?

Timing is important. In Buenos Aires, you get a lot of big games, including the Copa Sudamericana and Copa Libertadores (Europa League and Champions League equivalents, respectively), during October to November when the season is coming to an end. There’s also a lot of matches during February to March, when the season is starting and you’ve got that late summer enthusiasm.

I also think there’s a real charm to winging it. Granted, there’s a limit to how much you can organise in advance in a city like Buenos Aires, as the kick-off time isn’t confirmed until a week or so beforehand, but all across South America, you do mostly have to buy tickets when you’re actually there. When you go to a match, bring photo ID, wear casual clothing (find out which colours the home team wear) and leave any valuables at home.

What was your most memorable experience?

It has to be the moment behind the title of my first book, Tears at La Bombonera. I’d spent six months desperately trying to get a ticket for the Superclásico between Boca Juniors and River Plate in Buenos Aires, calling in favours, begging friends, pulling every string I could. Nothing. On match day, I went to the stadium anyway, heartbroken, just to soak up the atmosphere, and somehow, a ticket came through at the last minute.

In Argentina, going to a big match isn’t just 90 minutes of football, it’s a 10- to 12-hour experience. Drums, chants, flares, the smell of choripán (Argentinian chorizo sandwich) in the air. I’d waited half a year for that moment and when I stepped inside the stadium, I genuinely cried. Just overwhelming joy, disbelief and pure footballing passion. Isn’t that what travel is all about?