Though I’m hardly what you might call a monarchist, I do enjoy many of the idioms and sayings that the ancient institution has given the English language. My favourite is the adage that “Wherever the Queen goes, it smells like new paint” which may require some updating, given that Britain is now ruled by a king. Whether Charles III also experiences the privilege of a world smelling of fresh Dulux, I can’t really say, but the idea that some guests are worth making an effort for, surely persists. Few may go the extra yards of repainting their homes when they have friends over, but hosts will always want to present the best image of themselves and their humble abodes. That being said, tarting up one location to impress one single visitor, even one as illustrious as the reigning monarch of the United Kingdom, is rather easy, but it’s not something that really works at scale. How much paint would you need for ten important visitors, how about a hundred? How much for several hundred thousand? Even with the best will in the world, that’s a tall order.

As odd as it might sound, this is exactly what Germany has been trying to do over the last week. Obviously the Queen hasn’t reanimated and decided to take a sojourn to her ancestral home, though that would be some story. No, instead Germany has flung open its doors, rolled out the black, red and gold carpet, and welcomed the nations of Europe, or at least those nations that qualified, for the 2024 European Championships. Promoted as a “festival of football” by organisers, the tournament is being held at stadiums across the country, with a total of 24 nations competing, bringing with them thousands of fans. These fans, and the accompanying international media, are essentially so many visiting monarchs, all sniffing the air for the smell of freshly drying emulsion. Sadly for the hosts and guests alike, it seems someone forgot to call the decorators.

Things did begin encouragingly, with Germany cruising to a 5-1 victory over Scotland in the opening fixture in Munich. Footage before and after the game showed happy fans from both teams, mingling, drinking, singing, drinking, and occasionally dancing. From the outside, it looked like Euro 2024 might go off without a hitch, which was a welcome bit of good news given how solemn the days before kick-off had been. The much discussed gains for the far-right in the EU elections had overshadowed proceedings leading up to the first game of the tournament, but once the goals started pinging in from all angles, concerns were pragmatically set aside. However, as something akin to positivity began to descend on the country, reports started to filter through that everything wasn’t quite going according to plan.

While the football inside the Allianz Arena may have been a success, the general organisation seemed to have broken down outside the stadium. Long queues and confusion over which entrances fans were supposed to use had led to delays for some getting into the stadium. Simultaneously, social media was reacting to official notices from police and organisers concerning overcrowding at various “public viewing” events across Munich. One by one, these areas announced that they were near or even over capacity and would be closing for new arrivals. According to some, it seemed that planners hadn't fully appreciated how many Germans might actually want to watch the German team play. Transport in the city was also overwhelmed, with various forms of public transport becoming gridlocked, leaving fans crammed into sweaty tram carriages for long periods of time.

In fairness, plans rarely ever run perfectly at the first attempt, especially with something as complex as an international football tournament, but as the opening weekend progressed to Sunday, it seemed like nothing was working correctly. On Sunday night, English and Serbian fans faced travel chaos in Gelsenkirchen. Travelling to the stadium was by all accounts a hellish experience, which was only topped by the return journey which was even worse. Hours after the end of the match, there were still thousands of fans waiting for transport back into the city. Images and videos of crowded train and tram platforms flooded across social media, showing the full extent of the organisational failures. Almost as galling as this poor treatment was the fact that the only official presence among the fans were swarms of riot police, who had been on high alert all day due to the fact that the fixture between England and Serbia had been considered at risk of fan violence. As necessary as the police may have been, it seemed to underline the sense among fans that they were in fact the problem, rather than the overall organisation.

Interestingly, anger about the situation didn’t seem to be the first reaction of many fans and commentators. Instead, most were simply shocked by the experience. Outside of Germany, the belief has always been that Germans are efficient, punctual, and most of all organised. Discovering that strongly held beliefs about a country are actually untrue can be a disorientating experience, and many were left more confused than anything else. Once those emotions had subsided, the focus switched to explaining why. Why was Germany’s transport network failing? Most Germans know the answer of course, since most of everyone who lives here has a story or two about the failings of Deutsche Bahn in recent years. The answer, in a word, would be underinvestment, or rather two words, chronic underinvestment. As with health, education, and many other areas, Germany’s transport network has been left to slowly degrade, only since 2021 has money begun to be pumped back into the rail network, and even then that money has only plugged some of the gaps. It will require years of similar effort before things improve.

If Germans were left less than surprised by failures of the public transport network, they would no doubt have been equally unsurprised by the reaction of officials. One representative of the city of Gelsenkirchen, Ludger Wolterhoff, commented “At such a big event, of course it isn’t possible to get everyone to where they want to go in the shortest time…I think we must reflect on whether we could still accelerate something”. Wolterhoff then continued “the railway connections worked and the extra bus connections we laid on worked.” If what we saw last Sunday can be considered “working” then I’m not sure what broken looks like. This is familiar territory for Germans, when problems arise here, there’s always some official ready to tell everyone it's not as bad as people think, almost daring the population to disbelieve their own lived experience. They do it with transport, they do it with health, and more recently they attempted it when the south of Germany suffered horrendous flooding. “Yes, your house may be under water” the Bavaria’s political leadership said “but what can the state do about that?”. Apparently, what the state can do is shrug and continue doing what it has always done.

The tournament has highlighted some familiar issues for Germans, but that doesn’t necessarily mean everyone is happy with the criticism from visitors. It’s understandable. When you invite people to your home, the last thing you want is them going through the house pointing out all the work that needs doing. If every time I hosted a party, I received a written assessment of my dodgy DIY, I’d probably react in a less than positive manner. Then again, when the English are complaining about the state of your train system, it’s worth listening. I doubt there’s many other nations with as expert a knowledge of crumbling infrastructure as the English. Still, I think it’s reasonable that some Germans would bristle at the criticism, even if it is coming from a place of sympathy.

Moreover, as critical as the failings have been, there’s been just as many, if not more wonderful moments on and off the field. As I left work on Wednesday evening, the sun slowly setting over crowds of people heading into Augsburg to watch the second Germany game, transport issues couldn’t have been further from my mind. There’s still something beautiful about Germany hosting the Euros, a palpable feeling of excitement that can be felt even in those places that aren’t hosting any games. After so many years of division, I think Germany can be forgiven for wanting to enjoy one summer of relative peace, and save the complaints for another day.

Proofreader: @ScandiTina

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