An update from sunny Madrid, currently home to the largest collection non-ironic leather trousers and even-less-ironic moustaches outside of Bavaria. Enjoy showing off your tin foil trophy mein Herr, just be prepared for the wrath on Monday when mutter has nothing to wrap your sauerkraut sandwiches in.
After a few beers with Les Ferdinand and Paul Walsh in glorious 85-degree heat, I took a stroll to the Puerta del Sol, a large square in the centre of the city where fans from both teams have been congregating all day. The noise if terrific; the Nerazzurri seem to be outnumbering and out-singing Die Roten on the streets, but the underdog Germans are still confident of dominance tonight. I spoke to one Bayern fan who would bet his last Wienerschnitzel that Olic and Robben will prevail - a real possibility if Mr Mourinho doesn't "park the bus," says another fan.
As we spoke, things started getting a little tasty: a Bayern fan with a megaphone started shouting hefty insults at some nearby Inter fans, who proceeded to chase the loudmouth across the square. It was slightly terrifying as the insults flew, and even more terrifying when the riot police came steaming in. This, however, is an isolated incident. In general, the fans are happier than C-Ron in a hall of mirrors, chatting with one another and exchanging chants in their respective languages.
I'm off to the Bernebeu soon to enjoy the hospitality of the Heineken Champions League Village (take three wild ones at what drink they're serving) before taking in the game. I'm pretty gosh darn excited. You should feel these nipples.
Sexy German photo: Helen Cathcart