I woke to the mating call of a vuvuzela this morning, and smiled. For those of you who don’t know what a vuvuzela is, go here. The first match of the World Cup that you watch, you’ll know what it sounds like. Loudly festive.
We went to do a little shopping last night, down there, by the sea, near the stadium. I felt like I was in an advert for United Colours of Benneton. Remember them? Stereotypical models from different countries, dressed in bright colours. The (soccer-playing) nations of the world have descended on us, it’s fabulous. And loudly festive.
We ate some lovely dinner and then went for a night cap in the very smart hotel bar at the end, hoping, perhaps, that there might be a soccer team staying there, so we could be groupies (far be it for us to be picky, any team would’ve done.) But none were to be seen. We made friends with the barman instead, who informed us that all the teams are staying out of town. Probably to get away from groupies like us. Wise move really.
Anyway, our plan of action is in place, we will be there, at the stadium, for The City Beneath the Mountain’s first match on Friday, woohoo! We just need to decide who to support – France or Uruguay?