Ain't no mountain high enough, no river wide enough or no football ground remote enough…
Those may not quite be the words of Diana Ross, but if she had been a Norwich Ciy supporter that is exactly what she would have sung.
I had been in the tiny Swedish village of Ahlafors for no more than five minutes before a bus packed with people wearing yellow and green pulled up.
The start of City's pre-season tour against a team that plays in the fourth tier of the Swedish League may not immediately sound like the hottest ticket in town, but try telling that to the 150 or so Norwich supporters who crammed themselves into the one little wooden stand at the Sjovallens IP ground in an attempt to stay out of the heavy rain.
If the Canaries next tour takes them to the North Pole, the Moon or even Ipswich I have a feeling they would still attract a fair bit of support.
Pre-season, it seems, isn't just for players. The hills of Ahlafors were alive with the sound of what passes for music inside a football ground.
The picturesque setting of a pitch lined on one side by a lake and the other by a forest had its peace shattered by the first public airing of some new songs which I'm sure you'll hear more of from the Barclay End come August. If you would like to join in but missed out on the Scandanavian rehearsal think Kym Wilde's hit 'Kids in America…' and then replace 'Kids' with 'Huckerby's' and you'll soon pick it up.
When you tell people you are going to Sweden they generally mention three things: Abba, flat-pack furniture and the expensive alcohol.
With all that time to fill between pre-season friendlies what is there to do in Gothenburg if you don't consider yourself to be a Dancing Queen, can't fit a new wardrobe into your baggage allowance for the trip home and, in these troubled financial times, can't really justify over a fiver per pint? There's always more football…
I found myself rushing back from the Ahlafors friendly to get to the horseshoe-shaped structure I'd spotted from my hotel room window.
The Ullevi Stadium is the home of IFK Gothenburg, or IFK Goteborg as us locals call them, and on Saturday night they were at home in a Swedish Premier League match. I was going to say my luck was in, but you can be the judge of that.
I certainly wasn't alone in gorging on a feast of Swedish action (concentrate, I'm still talking football…) as the English flag across the opposite side of the stadium revealed. I'm willing to bet it was the first ever sighting of a banner with the word 'Wisbech' on it at the Ullevi.
The game itself ended in a comfortable 3-0 win for the home side against a team called Gefle who had very little to offer. I will not go over the top of my criticism of a side from near the foot of the table which failed to make an impact in an away game. Trips to Wolves and Plymouth are still fresh in the memory so I found myself sympathising with the travelling Gefle fans, if indeed there were any that weren't from The Fens.
If English football can learn one thing from this part of the world it would be how to do half-time entertainment. Forget your crossbar challenges, you can keep your kicking a ball through a hole and I never want to see another children's penalty shoot-out after what I witnessed at The Ullevi Stadium.
My limited knowledge of the Swedish language means I'm a little unclear on the details, but a man in about his mid-20's who I presume was plucked from the crowd had to run from the centre spot to the edge of the penalty area and stick six balls into the net past a cardboard goalkeeper.
So far, so tame, but after each kick our new friend had to run back out to about 25 yards from goal and run round a cone before taking his next shot all set to the tune of the 'Yakkety Sax' tune made famous by Benny Hill. That though is just the hors d'ouevre in this interval treat.
This supporter's next task was to sprint out to where the half-way line meets the touchline and demolish a burger and a drink provided by a well known fast food chain (Yes, they're out here in full effect as well…) while being shown in close-up on the ground's big screen. All this is being timed and just to make sure he left with at least mild indigestion, our willing volunteer then had to charge across the width of the pitch, climb into the front seat of a Volvo and sound the horn in order to stop the clock.
Those of us more used to the polite surroundings of Carrow Road watched all this in amazement, churning over the idea of how that could be adapted for a Norfolk audience. Not churning quite as much, I concede, as a certain Gothenburg resident's stomach.
Back at Ahlafors where the pitchside barbecue food was being consumed without the razzmatazz of cardboard goalkeepers, big screens or Volvo horns and it was worth reporting that while the cobwebs were being shaken off the Norwich City squad and the Barclay Boys vocal chords, our Swedish referee also took the opportunity to blow the dust off his cards.
Friendlies are traditionally booking-free zones, but not for our 'Huvuddomare' (I'm guessing that's the Swedish for referee but having seen him in action it could be the word they use for any number of thing in common with the word 'D'Urso'…).
He booked at least six players and even sent one of the Ahlafors team off. I wasn't going to name him but on reflection I wouldn't have thought he can be the only Robert Andersson in the Swedish phone book.
Whatever next season brings the one certainty is that those Norwich City fans will be there in force. If they can do Ahlafors and IFK Gothenburg in a day then trips to Plymouth, Cardiff and Burnley are walks in the park.
There will be more away day adventures, more creative use of well-known tunes and more Huvuddomare bashing over the coming ten months. It is the fans and the stories they provide and tell their mates back home that make football what it is.
Someday perhaps that 'Wisbech' flag will be back at the Ullevi stadium for a competitive European fixture, but until it is all that is left to say to our Swedish hosts is 'Thank You For the Half-Time Entertainment'. There's an Abba song you probably won't hear from the stands.