From match day to the mountains

Well I'm sitting in yet another lovely hotel, but stiff as a board at the mo due to crawling for 2 hours through a number of REALLY small caves this afternoon! More about this later, but I'll try and remember what I've been up to since the last time I blogged...

Match Day (18th June?): After checking out of the apartment that I never actually stayed in (!) I grabbed a cab back to the Waterfront, dropped my bags off at Mark's plush hotel and went for a few drinks before the game. Met up with Phil & Jay (Brighton fans - hurrah!) and then Mark and the rest of the boys. Three blokes sitting at the table next to us spotted Mark's Albion t-shirt and told us they were from Burgess Hill! Blimey it's a small world. The Waterfront was absolutely packed, completely taken over by England fans, but too manic for me to handle. So I met the boys in a restaurant with a big screen and ate a huge lunch! Started getting nervous around 7pm so made our way to the ground (no Park & Ride this time thank god, just our feet to get us there!). Didn't spot our nutty Algerian friends from the bus yesterday, but met a few characters along the way. The outside of Greenpoint Stadium was pretty impressive (I'd been walking past it every day since arriving), but the inside was amazing. Such a good atmosphere there, not too many vuvuzelas in the England section, but I realised the minute the match kicked off that I had the misfortune of being stuck 2 rows in front of the band - again. I was just taking a quick, comforting sip of beer from my bottle of Bud (yes I know, I don't do beer, but needs must) when the drummer started - and I almost bit the top off the bottle!! The last time I was stuck in front of the England band was in Stockholm in 1998(?) - it wasn't a good omen then and it wasn't on this occasion either. Next time it happens I'm moving seats, lucky pants or not (which haven't been very lucky at all - sorry Sally Rolly). Decided I'm not going to wear them on Wednesday - I will wear pants though mum, just not those ones! I almost went involuntarily commando in the caves today, but that's another story...

So the less said about the 'football' the better. I did meet up with a couple of Brentford supporters who I'd met with Sal in Nice at the World Cup in 1998 - John and Paul (I think, or was it the other twin?) - so that was funny seeing them again. They were sitting 2 rows in front of me. Other than that the game was dull and we all piled out of there feeling pretty gutted. So moving on... all the Brighton gang and Spurs Mark had tickets for Fatboy Slim at the Convention Centre so we headed up there after the game, had a few drinks and danced all night! Fab! Last seen being twirled around the floor ('waltzing' apparently) to The Beautiful Blue Danube until the vodka Redbull kicked in and it was Taxi for Sally time. Left the venue at 3.15am, knowing I had to get up about 7am... not good. Felt like a zombie the next morning despite all the Redbull, but as David Ginola would say, he (FBS) was worth it.