RWC2015 as it is happening
Not true they cried!
Shortly after the 2nd test we watched at Cardiff on Wednesday 23rd Sept 2015 this story is being related. Almost contemporaneously.
Australia faced Fiji, favourites, and with a promise of entertaining rugby. The crowd of 70,000 had come from across the street and across the world. Some had driven up from Oxford just that day.
The game ended in a clear victory with contention only about whether the Wallabies should have taken a kick for goal or attempted a further try (for a bonus point) in the dying stages of the match. Coach Cheika stated he didn't care at the time, and thus that the decision was for captain Moore. The goal ensured an unassailable gap of more than two converted tries, whereas the riskier approach of the attempt at a try, if successful would have resulted in an important carnival point to provide distance between England and Wales in the pool.
Are you with me?
The scrums were very low, stable and strongly held. But what would I know?
But to take us back.
This tour of Spain, lightly touching down also in France, and then a special time in England and Wales.
The aeroplane touched down in Milan for vitamins, then in bright sunlight and warmth, glided into Barcelona. We hadn't seen the sun nor had warmth since February, and it was a lovely thing to find.
First time back to Barcelona since 1984 or so, lovely it was to be in the Catalonia region. Semi autonomous they call themselves, but Madrid call them a department of Spain. The political history back to the 1936-1939 civil war has left a very strong sense of individual self and purpose, and a certainty that accepting direction from civil authority must be in the general good before it is accepted. That has lead to individually responsible and intelligent peoples, proud of their difference.
Our plan was to follow the path of the Monsignor Quixote, main character in Graham Greene's fable itself based on Cervante's "Don Quixote" of La Mancha. As we were headed via Madrid to the Basque region, it made good sense to follow the path of the infamous and humorous Don through his Spain of old.
In brief, Barcelona was a lively, bright, and open city, open late into the night every night, and clean and proud and welcoming. restaurants and bars were very professional, reasonably priced, and with a fabulous cuisine.
Now, by comparison, in Cardiff, I offered to take a few girls out for the best of Welsh fod, and when I took them to "Chippy's Alley" and took up position in the street, collecting from Maureen Ewvans a lovely bowl of striated chicken, saturated chips, and a new item - "smothering" gravy, I found I was metaphorically eating on my own (with 2000 other male former rugby players). C'est la vie, as they say in Cardiff.
But to take us back, rather randomly, so the story fits the picture, we had time whilst near the French border with Spain to duck over to visit Kev and Viv Fagan in Villenave de Navarrenx. We stayed in their large 17th century chateaux, and enjoyed their pool and terrific dining, and a tour of local restaurants, towns, including the belle epoch areas of Bayonne and Bairritz.
The cock (see photo) was atop a local monument, and here again the local people felt themselves above and separate from their national government and only deigned to permit themselves to be governed as long as the government did what they wished.
Local dentist provides immediate teeth replacement should it be needed; see photo.
Also, very fortunately, there is a beret manufacturer in Fagan's town, and I was able to procure, as required by the Amity owners, 3 red French berets. Absolutely fabulous!
But back to Spain: in our little vehicle named Leon Rocinante, we headed out of Barcelona to Valencia on the Mediterranean. A couple of days on the beach, and replenishing our batteries, we headed through the La Mancha area, stopping for lunch at the very town from which Monsignor Quixote and the Communist Mayor (played by Leo McKern in the film) started their journey of discovery - El Toboso. The streets and monuments are named after Cervantes' characters, and we enjoyed a ploughman's lunch and wine in an outdoor cafe before tilting at the windmills in Alcazar de San Juan. tick, tick.
And I don't mean that it is 5 minutes to midnight or the doomsday bomb.
MADRID
The national capital, and a dense city, magnificent buildings, and inspirational to think of the nation's history as a powerful colonizer of distant lands around the earth - probably at times when they were only just learning from Columbus that the earth was indeed not flat. Something our politicians back home are now coming to understand.
Warm dry weather continued, and siesta continued as the order of the day. That enabled the longer evenings, and dining at 9pm instead of whilst the sun was still up and the body tired from exploration.
Whilst there the Tour of Spain cycle race came through the streets, and we observed the finish in the centre of the city.
We were most fortunate to be able to stay in Rosa's sister Sophie's digs on the 5th floor, and overlooking the city. A lovely oasis, and comfortable and resting away from the heat of the day.
This selection of photos:
Popeye from the Jeff Koons show at the Guggenheim in Bilbao
Ladies at rest in Madrid before the hectic post siesta sessions on the streets
Viv Hale in France under the delightfully powder blue shutters painted so carefully and even built by Fages. But do they call him the shutter painter? No they do not!
Jeff Koons' work - looking like daffodils, but actually steel. Symbolically? You do the research
Shortly after the 2nd test we watched at Cardiff on Wednesday 23rd Sept 2015 this story is being related. Almost contemporaneously.
Australia faced Fiji, favourites, and with a promise of entertaining rugby. The crowd of 70,000 had come from across the street and across the world. Some had driven up from Oxford just that day.
The game ended in a clear victory with contention only about whether the Wallabies should have taken a kick for goal or attempted a further try (for a bonus point) in the dying stages of the match. Coach Cheika stated he didn't care at the time, and thus that the decision was for captain Moore. The goal ensured an unassailable gap of more than two converted tries, whereas the riskier approach of the attempt at a try, if successful would have resulted in an important carnival point to provide distance between England and Wales in the pool.
Are you with me?
The scrums were very low, stable and strongly held. But what would I know?
But to take us back.
This tour of Spain, lightly touching down also in France, and then a special time in England and Wales.
The aeroplane touched down in Milan for vitamins, then in bright sunlight and warmth, glided into Barcelona. We hadn't seen the sun nor had warmth since February, and it was a lovely thing to find.
First time back to Barcelona since 1984 or so, lovely it was to be in the Catalonia region. Semi autonomous they call themselves, but Madrid call them a department of Spain. The political history back to the 1936-1939 civil war has left a very strong sense of individual self and purpose, and a certainty that accepting direction from civil authority must be in the general good before it is accepted. That has lead to individually responsible and intelligent peoples, proud of their difference.
Our plan was to follow the path of the Monsignor Quixote, main character in Graham Greene's fable itself based on Cervante's "Don Quixote" of La Mancha. As we were headed via Madrid to the Basque region, it made good sense to follow the path of the infamous and humorous Don through his Spain of old.
In brief, Barcelona was a lively, bright, and open city, open late into the night every night, and clean and proud and welcoming. restaurants and bars were very professional, reasonably priced, and with a fabulous cuisine.
The cock (see photo) was atop a local monument, and here again the local people felt themselves above and separate from their national government and only deigned to permit themselves to be governed as long as the government did what they wished.
Also, very fortunately, there is a beret manufacturer in Fagan's town, and I was able to procure, as required by the Amity owners, 3 red French berets. Absolutely fabulous!
But back to Spain: in our little vehicle named Leon Rocinante, we headed out of Barcelona to Valencia on the Mediterranean. A couple of days on the beach, and replenishing our batteries, we headed through the La Mancha area, stopping for lunch at the very town from which Monsignor Quixote and the Communist Mayor (played by Leo McKern in the film) started their journey of discovery - El Toboso. The streets and monuments are named after Cervantes' characters, and we enjoyed a ploughman's lunch and wine in an outdoor cafe before tilting at the windmills in Alcazar de San Juan. tick, tick.
And I don't mean that it is 5 minutes to midnight or the doomsday bomb.
MADRID
The national capital, and a dense city, magnificent buildings, and inspirational to think of the nation's history as a powerful colonizer of distant lands around the earth - probably at times when they were only just learning from Columbus that the earth was indeed not flat. Something our politicians back home are now coming to understand.
Warm dry weather continued, and siesta continued as the order of the day. That enabled the longer evenings, and dining at 9pm instead of whilst the sun was still up and the body tired from exploration.
Whilst there the Tour of Spain cycle race came through the streets, and we observed the finish in the centre of the city.
We were most fortunate to be able to stay in Rosa's sister Sophie's digs on the 5th floor, and overlooking the city. A lovely oasis, and comfortable and resting away from the heat of the day.
This selection of photos:
Popeye from the Jeff Koons show at the Guggenheim in Bilbao
I must skip ahead or delay, as the power has just gone off in our house in Woodstock, mid way through planning to cook our roast pork. O dear o dear!
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