“Well, it is our anniversary…”

Burton Albion vs Huddersfield Town, The Pirelli Stadium, EFL 1, 12th April 2025

We’ll start this post with an admission - despite the fact that it is headed with ‘Burton Albion vs. Huddersfield Town’ there isn’t going to be much about the football in it, because this was a long weekend of all kinds of excitement.  So, if you’re reading this with an eye to our scintillating match day commentary, you’re going to be very disappointed. But let’s be honest, our writing is more about the journey than the destination, more about the overall experience than the match itself. Or at least it is this time, as this is not just an ordinary weekend - it’s our anniversary weekend! Our 23rd wedding anniversary to be precise, which tradition decrees should be marked with something that has been silver plated. We have to admit, we didn’t do this. However, a couple of weeks ago Ben bought a brass pig from a charity shop. Which is close enough.

We start the weekend with a drive to Derby. “Derby? Again? You went there only a few weeks ago when watching Derby County Women at Mickleover!” we hear you cry. And yes, it’s true. We’ve already visited Lara Croft Way and shopped in the Derbion shopping centre. What more can there possibly be to do? Well, there are several things in and around Derby that we didn’t have time for. Today we’re visiting Kedleston Hall and going to the theatre. After a quick stop at the Leeds services (this time avoiding the gargantuan pothole) for a cup of coffee, we arrive at Kedleston Hall in the sunshine and have a picnic.¹ It’s properly sunny and warm today - summer has arrived in a sudden blaze of heat and light. There are lambs, blossom trees and plants bursting into green everywhere we look. It’s bliss! All that’s missing is getting sunburnt and stung by a wasp, but give it time…

The dome of Kedleston Hall.

Next, we have a look around the great house itself. There is an overstated opulence to every room that leaves us rather cold (ironically, for such a warm day). Admittedly there is a marble hall of such magnificence that it takes your breath away but it’s not the kind of house you could imagine living in - the chairs are too ornate to sit on, the bed is so grand you could never sleep in it and it feels like not a single occupant of the house ever did anything so uncouth as go to the toilet.  We’ve been to dozens of similarly grand houses all over the country and often, despite being monuments to fortune built on the labour of others, you can still imagine people living real lives there. Here, not so much. It even has its own museum - a personal treasure trove of artefacts collected by a Viceroy of India at the height of the British Empire to show off to his friends. We don’t linger.

Instead, we hasten back outside into the sunshine and a stroll round the beautiful flower gardens. We then finish the afternoon, as you have to at any National Trust property, with a scone and a cup of tea. Much to Ben’s amusement there is in fact a Scone of the Month. This month it’s a simnel scone, which Liz would have found utterly delicious if they hadn’t glazed it with marmalade.² Before we leave we spot the final nail in the coffin of Kedleston in the form of a  the motto engraved over the kitchen fireplace, once looming high above the lowly kitchen staff: ‘Waste not, want not.’ Excess above stairs, parsimony below. 

Now it’s on to Derby where we have pushed the boat out (well, it is our anniversary) and reserved a ‘river view’ room at the Premier Inn. There is indeed a lovely view of the river. There is also a view of the back of a bus depot where a big pile of grit is oozing suspicious fluid³ . You can also see some portaloos and, if you know where to look, an entirely different SECOND bus depot. Nothing says romance like a view of two bus depots. 

After tea we head out to the theatre to see ‘The Spitfire Girls’. This isn’t a theatre review blog, but as an aside we’d give it a solid three out of five stars - a really interesting story. Later that evening, whilst in the bath, Ben uses his phone to check in to our considerably fancier hotel for tomorrow (well, it is our anniversary). That’s right - the wonders of the 21st century mean you can check in remotely, ahead of time. From the bath. After much faffing he seemingly achieves it and is informed that he can now simply use his phone to unlock the door to his room tomorrow. ‘This won’t work…’ he tells himself. 

After breakfast and a coffee the next morning we head to Burton-upon-Trent. Now, we’ve kind of dodged round Burton a couple of times. Liz brought Phoebe to a job interview at St. George’s Park just outside Burton several years ago. And last year we attempted to watch Burton Albion, but the match was cancelled and instead we ended up staying in a Premier Inn on the outskirts of Burton but we actually went to watch a match at Crewe. So, we’ve ALMOST been twice, and now we are here in the promised land of Burton-upon-Trent, the sun is shining, the birds are singing and … there isn’t actually that much to see, honestly. We have a walk in the nice riverside park, but there is some ongoing flood defence work going on which means it’s a bit fenced off. We head instead for the canal and the marina passing some huge breweries on the way. Everywhere you look in Burton there’s another Brewery⁴. This means that, for a relatively small town, the distance between places is huge because you have to walk past at least six different breweries just to get from the High Street to the Town Hall. Our feet are already starting to ache and it’s not even lunchtime!

The canal is lovely. We have a canalside picnic before following the towpath towards the ground, looking at the narrowboats as we pass.  Ben spots one which proclaims that its occupants have a ‘life without limits’. Presumably, he ruminates, you are in fact limited to where the canal system goes. Unless you take your canal boat out to sea. Or it turns into some sort of hovercraft, like James Bond’s gondola does in Moonraker. We agree that this is unlikely. 

Later we pass another boat where a lady is sitting knitting in the sunshine. We pause for a chat and she tells us all about how her and her husband live on the boat and travel around the country’s canals in their retirement years. Ben resists asking if her boat is in fact some sort of hovercraft, but we do purchase from her a knitted mallard for Phoebe, who is looking after the cats in our absence. We continue on. After some discussion, we decide that we wouldn’t want to live on a boat. Too wet. Too cramped. Might sink. But, we quite fancy one of the houses that backs onto the canal, where we could sit in the sun and watch the boats pass. That’s along with our desire to live in a house that backs onto a steam railway so we can sit in the sun and watch the trains pass, and a house that backs onto a football club so that we can sit in the sun and watch the players pass.

Finally, we make it to the Pirelli Stadium, Burton’s home since 2005. They moved here from Eton Park following an extraordinary rise up the football pyramid. We buy a pin badge from the little club shop, before picking up a programme and a 50/50⁵ on our way into the ground. It’s actually TOO HOT for a cup of tea and we’re drinking cold water instead. This is most unusual! We find our way to the stands (the way in is heavily disguised as a store room which confuses us for a minute) and find a place to loiter. We’re facing the ‘Don Amott ‘King of Caravans’ stand’. We were at the Don Amott stadium in Mickleover earlier in the year to watch Derby Women, so it feels like bumping into a friend.  And speaking of friends, here comes the club mascot, it’s Billy the Brewer! And oh, my lord, we’ve seen some unusual mascots in our time, but Billy the Brewer is like Dennis the Menace crossed with one of the Tombliboos out of ‘In the Night Garden’ (which is quite nightmarish at the best of times). When the Huddersfield fans start singing ‘What the ****ing hell is that?’ it’s hard not to echo the sentiment. Sorry Billy!

But despite this we quickly settle into our home for today and soon start to feel slightly protective of poor old Billy the Brewer. The Pirelli Stadium is a solid football ground. Everything works, the view is good, it’s not quirky or showy but it feels safe, substantial and sensible. You wouldn’t come here to marvel at the architecture, but that isn’t really the point of a football stadium, is it? It does, however, provide a good place to marvel at the football. Having looked up the respective positions of the two teams (Burton are in danger of relegation, Huddersfield on the edge of the play-off spots) we note that both teams have something to play for, so it should be a decent match.

Almost as soon as the game kicks off the apparent gulf in ability, indicated by the team’s relative league positions, is not at all  obvious on the pitch. Burton start brightly and are soon rewarded with an early goal. They play like a well-oiled machine; the passing is clean and crisp and their number 18 (Rumarn Burrell - ironically once a Middlesbrough player!) is fast and looks threatening every time he moves forward. It’s frankly worth the admission fee simply to watch him. The away side rally during the first half but can’t forge a clear chance, and Burton survive, surging forward again to grab a second just before half-time. 

‘It’ll be interesting to see how Huddersfield set up for the second half,’ says Ben as we watch the Rotary Club parade around the pitch with banners and we fail to win the 50/50. ‘Surely they’ll be better.’ Sadly, for the large number of travelling supporters, they are not better. And the Brewers are very definitely not tiring or sitting back. Before long it’s 3-0, a defeat which the Huddersfield fans take in good humour. ‘We’re the worst team in football!’ they sing. There’s banter between the two sets of fans, but it’s not unpleasant. Nobody is hurling abuse at the referee either. We relax. It’s been quite a long while since we’ve been to a match where, as Ben so eloquently puts it, ‘nobody has called anybody else a c**t.’ Burton Albion (and, to a large degree Huddersfield too) are restoring our faith in the beautiful game! This is cemented as we walk past sixteen breweries back to the car. Behind us, a couple of Brewers fans walk along chatting to a couple of Huddersfield fans, comparing their views of the match as the Burton fans direct the Huddersfield fans in the right direction for the station. We’re really glad that we have finally made it to Burton-upon-Trent.

And so we head for our hotel for the night. Remember, we’ve pushed the boat out (well, it is our anniversary) and we’re staying at St. George’s Park! Yes! Like wot where the Enngland football teams train/play/live! This has been a long held ambition of Liz’s, ever since Phoebe went for her aforementioned job interview there and Liz realised that ordinary people could ACTUALLY STAY AT ST. GEORGE’S PARK even if you are not Sarina Wiegman or Harry Kane.

‘Remember when I checked in online last night?’ asks Ben. ‘Well, that’s actually no good, because I don’t know where the room is, so we’re going to have to check in again anyway with a real human being’ So we do. The man at the reception desk is very helpful, and tells us that as it’s our anniversary (have we mentioned this?) we’ve been upgraded to The Diamond Club! Sadly this doesn’t result in Chris Waddle and Glenn Hoddle emerging in a cloud of dry ice whilst singing Diamond Lights.⁶ But it should have. Instead it means that in addition to the amazingly comfortable room⁷ we’ve got use of the executive lounge, and they have decorated our room with rose petals, electric candles and an anniversary brownie. The bathroom comes with a tiny bottle of mouthwash, high end toiletries and a tiny loofah! Liz’s principles (she has given up chocolate for Lent) go out of the window and we share the brownie.

But the excitement does not end there. As we explore the hotel we discover more delights. There is a phone in the bathroom! A shoe buffer in the corridor! Robes and slippers in the wardrobe! Real coat hangers! Yorkshire tea! No taps, just shelves that leak (elegantly - they’re meant to!) There is football memorabilia everywhere, and in the foyer a display case of all of England’s recent trophies (and before you say ‘Ha, what trophies?” we would like to point out that the Lionesses haven’t done too badly, and there are also lots of trophies for the youth teams.) Plus there’s not a bus depot of a rat urine-soaked grit pile in sight. Instead, out of the window the views stretch for acres of green, and some of them are football pitches!

Suffice it to say, we quite like St. George’s Park. 

In the executive lounge before we go down for dinner we eat chicken wings and loaded fries (Ben) and tiny stuffed peppers (Liz) with Coke FROM A GLASS BOTTLE (after Ben has buffed his shoes to a suitably shiny state, obviously). Dinner is awesome. Ben has a steak and Liz has two puddings (it’s a long story) and then we collapse into a bed so huge we can barely see each other over the horizon. And to top it all off, before we head home the next morning Ben finds the souvenir merchandise and manages to buy A PIN BADGE to take home.

That song you can now hear is Perfect Day by Lou Reed…

This weekend has been peak Taylorson. This is as good as it gets for us. Sunshine, a great football match, a canal, a shoe buffer, a trip to the theatre, two pin badges, two picnics, several puddings and a hypothetical hovercraft.  

Well, it was our anniversary.

It’s nearly the end of the season and we’ll be taking a break over the summer - so why not subscribe then you’ll know when the football season approaches!

1. In the car park rather than in the grounds of the hall itself. As is the British way.

2. Paddington I am not. Liz

3. Ben reckons its rat wee, Liz remains uncommitted.

4. Hence the football club nickname, the Brewers.

5. We won’t keep you in suspense - we don’t win this week either.

6. Thank the Lord. Liz

7. Which we couldn’t get into with Ben’s phone as, guess what, that didn’t work …