ring through an 80,000-strong crowd and get chanted back from the stands gave me flashbacks to Download Festival. In fairness, it provided quite the festival atmosphere.

Six countries. Six historic stadiums. Six completely different matchday experiences. From the deafening roar under the roof in Cardiff to the epic Italian theatre of Rome, the Six Nations takes rugby into some of the most iconic sporting venues in Europe. But which stadium is actually the best?

That, of course, is entirely subjective. Having covered international rugby across England, Ireland, Scotland Wales, France and Italy, I have experienced each of these grounds from a rather different perspective and

I have attempted to rank them below.

This isn't simply a ranking of stadiums based on capacity, architecture or history. I'm looking at the whole experience: getting there, the atmosphere, the views from the press box, the media facilities, the food, the anthems and, most importantly, what it actually feels like to be there on match day.

So, from sixth to first, here are my personal rankings of the six Six Nations stadiums.

Before an army of Scotsmen come marching down from north of the border to protest this ranking, there is an important disclaimer. My sole experience of Murrayfield came during the Fijian-hosted match in the latest Nations Championship under the sweltering July sun, made for quite the unique, and rather un-Scottish atmosphere.

The Fijian dancers and warriors were an incredible sight to witness, but I can't imagine they are customary at a routine Six Nations clash played beneath the sleet of a brisk Murrayfield day in late winter. The stadium itself was rather impressive, with easy transport links to and from the ground thanks to the tram, which takes you directly into the heart of Edinburgh's new town.

From a journalist's perspective, I appreciate that it is slightly unfair to give Scotland's home a bottom ranking when I am yet to experience a genuine Six Nations atmosphere there. That said, Flower of Scotland still rang out in full voice, with plenty of passion behind the lyrics. Also, thanks to Fiji actually bringing the fight to Scotland from the opening whistle and establishing a healthy first-half lead — the eventual Scottish cheers felt considerably more genuine and impassioned than some of the Tier One versus Tier Two matches I have covered in the past.

Take England against Samoa at the 2025 Women's Rugby World Cup, for example. The Red Roses were overwhelming favourites, and the expectation was that the tries would simply keep coming. Understandably, they did at Franklin's Gardens in Northampton, for a near 100-point wash out. Murrayfield didn't have that feel, with quite the buzz around the stadium come the full-time win.

The media facilities were also very good, although the circumstances were rather unusual. With Fiji effectively hosting the match, the visitors had taken over Scotland's regular media centre and post-match mixed zone. That meant the press conference took place in a fairly standard function room, largely devoid of the rugby atmosphere you would normally associate with the fabled cauldron.

Hopefully, I'll be back in Edinburgh this autumn when the All Blacks come to town. That could very easily propel Murrayfield up my personal rankings. For now, Scotland are sixth — through absolutely no fault of their own.

I've thoroughly enjoyed getting to know the Aviva Stadium since starting my new life in Ireland in spring 2025. After moving from London, most of my international rugby experience had been accumulated through repeated trips to Twickenham. Switching that up to covering Ireland took some adjustment, but it has been a hugely welcome challenge.

It is a close coin flip between the Aviva and Allianz Stadium for fifth and fourth place, with both of the finance-broker-sponsored grounds bringing similar vibes to matchday. Focusing on the Aviva, actually getting to the stadium if you aren't booked into an exorbitantly expensive hotel in the Lansdowne or Ballsbridge area can be quite the ordeal.

The buses are caught in standstill Dublin tourist traffic, while the Luas is packed to the brim like the London Underground at peak rush hour. From a media perspective, however, the Aviva has a cracking set-up — albeit with a fair bit of walking involved. The collection point for press passes is a 10-15 minute walk, or rushed stride, down Lansdowne Road before a designated media entrance quickly hurries you out of the matchday crowd.

There is nothing quite like being caught up in the buzz of an international crowd, but it is a little less appealing when you have a match preview to file before kick-off. The stadium itself is beautifully designed, with that distinctive shape resembling everything from a teardrop to a fishbowl. I've even heard it once described as a breaching whale rising out of the neighboring river-side.

With three capacity stands, however, the decision to leave the stand behind the posts as a single tier does take something away from the atmosphere. Fields of Athenry belts around three-quarters of the ground, rather like a speaker with a pocket of blown-out fibres. However the uniqueness of a welcome from the President of Ireland ensures that the players have a moment to remember regardless of the result.

The press seats are also way up high, right at the top of the stand running parallel with the pitch, making the television on the desk a particularly useful asset. Although, admittedly, the live feed has dropped out on me from time to time. Still, there is something rather special about covering Ireland at the Aviva. It just doesn't quite make my top four quite yet - I'm sure it will only elevate up the rankings in time.

Having lived in Twickenham for a year while completing my master's degree, I have experienced the best and worst of living within a well-struck rugby ball of the stadium known as 'HQ'. Let's start with the worst and end on a high.

As a student, having to either move my car away from the sectioned-off parts of the town or risk being boxed in by temporary fencing was a frustrating re-occurrence throughout November, February and March. Then there was the small matter of essentially having the capacity of a music festival descend onto your doorstep.

Drunk Twickenham visitors would spill out into the streets until the early hours, despite the TW2 pubs closing around 10pm thanks to their partnership with the Borough Council. That was another issue with being a student in Twickenham, whenever there was a match on, you had to wander further afield out to Kingston, Clapham, or down to Brixton if you wanted to keep the night going beyond the town-wide curfew.

But anyway. Back to the rugby. Why have I ranked Twickenham fourth? The positives are plentiful. It is a historic stadium that, admittedly, could do with some modernising, which is something the powers that be have reportedly had on the cards for the best part of a decade.

Seeing those iconic green seats is still a sight to behold, while the trademark 'Twickenham roar' is a fantastic beast when unleashed at full voice. I am lucky enough to have covered my fair share of matches at Allianz Stadium to the point where I've since lost count.

My favourite from an awe-inspiring perspective was England's Autumn Series victory over the All Blacks in November 2025 — only the eighth time England had beaten the revered men in black on home soil. The noise that day was something else. Twickenham might no longer be my favourite stadium in the Six Nations, but it remains one of the most recognisable rugby venues on the planet. And there is something rather special about walking through those historic gates, and passing beneath the golden lions atop them.

Safe to say, covering a match at the Stadio Olimpico is a rugby experience like none other. I've been to the incredible Roman arena twice, both times to cover England against Italy in the 2024 and 2026 Six Nations. I'll get a taste of the Irish experience in Rome next year, when Andy Farrell's side heads to the Eternal City.

The setting is simply the selling point. Nestled in the north-west of the Italian capital, the Stadio Olimpico is watched over by the colossal statue of Madonna di Monte Mario, while the vibrancy of Italy and the history of the city are on display from the moment you arrive.

You walk through a series of Olympic-era statues before reaching the home of the Azzurri. You are engulfed by quintessentially Italian sights, sounds and smells. Rich Arabica coffee drifts upon the wind from the espresso roasters, giving the Italy fans that extra bit of fire in their spirits to get behind their side.

That certainly worked the last time I was there. Italy defeated England for the first time ever in the 2026 Six Nations. Fresh pizza is stone-baked, hot wraps are packed with succulent Italian meats and cheeses, and the culture of the food vendors is a world away from the chip-based options I usually tuck into.

Or the Twickenham-style wine, port and cheeseboard array I've witnessed being served from the boot of a Range Rover Evoque in the Rosebine car park on the walk up Chertsey Road. If you've done this, you're posh. No questions asked.

For the media, Italy does things with customary style. It is the only place I've ever worked that allows journalists to enjoy a couple of Peronis before the match, with the bar open for the travelling press. Then there is the pre-match meal. Hot and cold Italian meats. An array of cheeses. And a delectable tiramisu to finish. Then comes my favourite part of the Italian matchday.

The anthem. It is one of the most divisive debates in international rugby: who has the best national anthem? Whilst everyone outside England agrees that God Save the King is objectively the worst pre-match song, my personal favourite is Il Canto degli Italiani — 'The Song of the Italians'. When the opening line of Fratelli d'Italia — 'Brothers of Italy' — is belted out, the voices of generations of Roman soldiers seem to rise behind their team.

Then comes the crescendo. Siam pronti alla morte, L'Italia chiamò. Now, my Italian goes as far as the first few stages of Duolingo and being able to order a caffè, but discovering that the closing lines translate to 'We are ready to die, Italy has called' makes the whole thing considerably more dramatic.

The actual aesthetics of the Stadio Olimpico are stunning. A firecracker smoke display projects green, white and red in front of a sea of oceanic blue, as home supporters proudly don the iconic Azzurri jersey. It is genuinely brilliant to see rugby continue to pick up traction in Italy. Gare the days when Italy were perceived simply as the easy win of the Six Nations. This is now the away trip I am most excited about returning to next year's Championship.

It has a roof. Enough said.

OK, to elaborate. The Principality Stadium — formerly the Millennium Stadium — is a feat of engineering brilliance. Almost every time there is a match in the heart of Cardiff, the discourse around 'will the roof be open or closed?' inevitably enters the conversation. I'm sure this was much to the chagrin of Warren Gatland during his epic time at the helm.

But the setting is perfect for Wales. Nestled literally in the heart of the capital city, there is no awkward trek on a packed train out to the border boroughs or into the sticks of the city limits. You can walk from a Cardiff Central Travelodge to the Principality Stadium in a matter of minutes.

Although, naturally, you should stop at the incredible Pie Box café on the way. It is well documented that arriving for a Test against Wales is hell on earth for a visiting team. The team bus gets slammed in Cardiff traffic as thousands of red-jersey-clad supporters line the streets, doing their best to get a rise from the ice-cold, non-plussed headphone wearers looking out the window.

I've had the pleasure of covering three matches at the Principality: the 2025 Six Nations finale between England and Wales, followed by the EPCR Challenge Cup and Investec Champions Cup Finals later that season. Bath claimed the secondary title before Bordeaux-Bègles began their two-year run as the defending kings of Europe.

The matchday experience brings the pyro and lights of an Ibiza nightclub rave and the smoke of an Amsterdam coffee shop. With an incredible display of strobe lights, it could be the middle of the day in the peak of summer and the closed roof creates a bowl of blocked-out sunlight that feels like the late, late kick-offs at a certain Parisian stadium we'll get to shortly.

The smoke settles in the air after the final set of pyro explodes, creating a gothic setting for both sets of players to run out into. And then come the anthems. Whilst I prefer the Italian anthem overall, the fact that I can't speak a lick of Welsh does not hinder the emotion when Land of My Fathers rings out. With red-painted faces, lilies and dragons populating every pocket of the crowd, the media seats genuinely feel like you are in the heart of the action.

And the media seats are arguably the best I've experienced. Nestled in the first tier, a stone's throw from the pitch, the view brings the closest I've ever experienced to Test match grass. There is a direct corridor from the press seats down into the media workroom which, compared to the half-stadium-wide trek through the crowds at Twickenham, or the wait for the four-floor lift after beating the post-match rush in Dublin, makes for a very welcome quick trip back to the media centre.

The back bench of the seats is directly in front of rows of passionate supporters in what is affectionately known as the 'splash zone' — given the affinity of a spilled pint of Guinness to ruin a laptop charger. I'm set to return to Cardiff next month for the opening weekend of the Ultimate Sevens Championship, which will be hosted at the Principality's little brother, Cardiff Arms Park - and I cannot wait to get back.

Taking the top spot in my personal ranking of the six Six Nations stadiums, the incredible Stade de France is the venue that stands above the parapet when it comes to matchday experience. Much like Murrayfield, I've only covered one match at the Stade de France, but what a match it was.

France against Ireland to kick-start the 2026 Six Nations. Even with the chaos of briefly losing my laptop at Beauvais Airport and the slightly 'rough around the edges' setting in the district of Saint-Denis, the French amphitheatre provided my favourite Six Nations match experience to date.

This could well be recency bias talking. But the pre-match light show took all the energy from the Principality and turned the intensity up to 11. I can't speak French — no parle français — but even I understood exactly how much every try and every point meant to the fans of Les Bleus. Hearing La Marseillaise ring out around an 80,000-plus capacity crowd is simply incredible to witness, and an experience I urge every rugby fan to enjoy at least once.

French tricolours flew all around the ground, embodying the passion of supporters decked out in rouge, blanc et bleu. And then there was something I absolutely loved about the way the French crowd and stadium announcers borrowed from football. I know football chants in rugby are a divisive topic, sitting in a similar corner to Premiership Rugby's trialled 'away sections' rather than having all supporters sit together.

But at the Stade de France, it genuinely worked. The stadium announcer would call out only the first name of a player before handing the microphone over to the capacity crowd to belt out the surname. "Penalty scored by Thomas..."

It felt like I was sitting at a Bundesliga or La Liga football match and reminded me that they really do rugby differently on the continent. The circumstances made it even better. This was the opening match of the 2026 Six Nations, played under the lights on a Thursday night against Ireland — the side that represented arguably the biggest threat to Fabien Galthié's France. Safe to say plenty of French fans probably called in sick for their Friday shift across the City of Lights.

From a press perspective, the Stade de France was superb. The media centre literally opens directly onto the designated press seats. It is the best and most practical workroom-to-gantry collaboration I've experienced, while the divine coffee kept me going from the 9pm kick-off through to filing my post-match quotes piece at around 2am the following morning. With the stadium at times also used for France football matches, the modernised media facilities is apparent to reflect those deeper pockets in the land of les bleu.

The colossal stadium is also a marvellous sight from the outside. The vibrant glowing lights against the backdrop give the stadium a living feeling, which pulses in time with the pre-match music. And the music was cool, too. There weren't any overplayed dance floor fillers from the 2000s, instead, authentic French rap pumped through the speakers, mixed with metal and rock anthems that earned my personal seal of approval. Hearing Metallica's Enter Sandman

Once the dust had settled and it was finally time to get some sleep, I followed the advice of the other Irish journalists who had travelled to the Stade de France throughout the 2023 Rugby World Cup. Just get an Uber. By all accounts, Saint-Denis isn't the safest neck of the woods, and unfortunately, I could have been a prime target in the middle of the night with my face buried in my phone and a laptop bag over my shoulder. So I followed the advice, but that didn't hinder the experience.

The Stade de France is my favourite Six Nations stadium so far, combining the spectacle of an 80,000-capacity international rugby match with the energy of a European football fixture and the unmistakable flavour of France. Throw in a detour through the classic Parisian hotspots, some stunning coffee and a few croissants, and it becomes rather difficult for anything else to compete. For me, the Stade de France is the Six Nations' best stadium.

Whether you're a die-hard rugby fan or just love testing your knowledge, this quiz is your chance to showcase how well you know the homes of English rugby.

In this challenge, we've compiled 20 rugby stadiums for you to identify. Some are legendary arenas that host international fixtures, while others are the cherished grounds of Premiership and Championship clubs.