Tag Archives: world cup

Wednesday 16th June published Friday 18th June (Kirsty’s blog)

Before I start I have to mention that Scouse John was in touch last night to tell us that when he sat down to have his tea one evening this week and he happened to hear the names Mr & Mrs Payne mentioned on the news (Look East region) and looked up to see a picture of Andy and I at the Holland vs Denmark game…all I can say is that it must have been a very slow news day, though I’m guessing that Mrs Miggins’ missing cat was still the lead story.

So an early start and getting up in the dark just so that we can squeeze as much into our few days in Cape Town as possible. We’re off to drink copious amounts of wine surrounded by stunning scenery…I mean we’re off to a very civilised wine tasting in the Stellenbosch, Franshoek and Parl wine regions, apparently you’re supposed to spit it out!!! What the devil are they thinking? Spitting out perfectly good wine, I’ll want to get my money’s worth and enjoy both the taste and the effect.

A lovely guy called Dave turns up first thing to pick us up and already ensconced in the minibus are an American couple, Andrea and Xavier, we then drive across town to pick up four more day trippers which turn out to be from Falkirk, Willy, Kevin, Barry and Scott. They’re out here for a holiday and a bit of football regardless that Scotland didn’t qualify, in fact for the first time ever I’ve heard a Scot say that he would like to see England do well, refreshingly different to the usual ‘anyone but England’ standard Scottish answer.

After torrential storms last night, so much so that the ceiling of our hotel room was leaking in the massive downpour, this morning is clear bright and for the first time we can see the top of the glorious Table Mountain and Lion’s Head Mountain…stunning.

Talk in the minibus is all about football and when we get to the first vineyard which is renowned for sparkling wines, Andy and the Falkirk boys are still talking football non stop while the poor wine guide guy is patiently trying to explain about the wines to what appeared to be a bunch of heathens knocking back bubby and talking tactics.

We visited a couple more vineyards before lunch and all of us soon really got into the wine tasting, it was really interesting to learn about the different processes and blends and the wines were gorgeous, despite small measure of each one, I was starting to feel a bit squiffy and when we arrived at Fairview vineyard I though I was seeing a live goat at the top of a small stone helter skelter, now the wine over here is strong but I didn’t think I’d drunk that much! I consulted Andy who could also see it but thought it was mechanical, on closer inspection it was indeed a live goat at the top of a stone helter skelter, brilliant!

The reason for the goat is that this particular vineyard had won a famous legal case when they were taken to court for using the name ‘Goats Do Roam’ on their bottles, needless to say this really really Pee’d off the French, though Fairview won the case and they continue to use the name ‘Goats Do Roam’, ‘The Goatfather’ and ‘Goat Door’ the French are probably absolutely seething.

We stopped for lunch at a great place called Franshoek, a very colonial/New England little one street town and invited Dave our wine guide to join us. It turns out that Dave is originally from Walsall in the West Midland but him and his wife have been here for thirty five years, on first meeting him we assumed he was South African as he has a gentle South African accent but on closer inspection he had a little twang of a black country accent which was a hilarious combination…don’t think I’ve ever heard a South African crossed with Walsall accent before, had the sudden urge to call him ‘bab’ though.

A great lunch, followed by more wine tasting (hic) and then a really great unexpected surprise is that just next to the last vineyard we visited was a Cheetah sanctuary. Now I’ve never been known to leave a drink before but I couldn’t resist and Andy and I left our fellow drinkers and skipped over to see the cheetahs. They are absolutely amazing creatures, so graceful and beautiful. I instantly forgot all about the wine tasting and we spent some time just watching them and watching people stroking them (they’d been hand reared and were very placid). The numbers of wild Cheetahs had been diminishing fast over the last few decades as they are shot by farmers looking after their sheep, so the sanctuary funds the breeding of very large Albanian Shepherd dogs which have a ferocious bark and are raised with the sheep flocks which makes them fiercely protective though they are an extremely effective and humane deterrent to cheetahs looking for lunch as the dogs can’t catch the cheetahs but will scare them away, which in turn stops the farmers shooting and trapping the cheetahs. Thanks to this project the cheetah numbers are on the up in South Africa.

So all in all, a fantastic day, good wine, good company, I forgot to mention the cheese and the olive oil but that was great too and the amazing cheetahs…who says alcohol and wild animals don’t mix!

Early night as we’re getting up in the dark again to make the most of Table Mountain, a bit of strenuous trekking for a few hours will help work off the gorgeous food and wine we’re been consuming (well probably not).

Monday June 14th June posted Friday 18th June (Andy’s blog)

We decided to head down to the Holland vs Denmark match at Soccer City, Soweto and see if we could get a couple of tickets from the touts. Dom, Nat, Simon, Pilks and Chris were going too, so we took two cars this time as Dom, Nat and Pills were headed off straight after the match, to Durban I think.

One unusual aspect of the Johannesburg skyline is the mine dumps which are scattered on each horizon. These are mini Table Mountains, but man made and are made from the waste slag from the mining process, gold mainly. Due to technological advances, these mine dumps are now being reprocessed for their gold deposits, so will eventually disappear. More on the gold issue later, as it seems to be one of the key issues for this country going forward.

We passed the Orlando Pirates’ stadium on the way, which is not owned by the football team, and is currently shared with the big local team, the Kaizer Chiefs (note the man who started the team hates it if Kaizer is spelt Kaiser!). The Chiefs, who produced Phil Masinga and Lucas Radebe who played for Leeds, are set to move back to Soccer City once the World Cup is over. There seems to be some controversy about whether that legacy will be fully utilised. Controversy about the legacies is another key feature of this tournament.

On a lighter note, we swung into Soweto proper by turning left at Snazzy’s car wash, next to Snazzy’s petrol station, adjacent to Snazzy’s
snack bar and Snazzy’s corner store. Looks like Snazzy was a big player in Soweto. Soweto is massive and we are told there are three million people living their. Famous amongst other things for the protest by students and school children in 1976 against being taught Afrikaans and their ensuing skirmishes with the police, Soweto became the symbol for black South Africa against the ruling white apartheid regime. Much has changed in the former township and houses are being built. However, as with much in this beautiful country, the whole project is very much work in progress and there is still plenty to do. Nike have built the superb the Soweto Soccer Training Centre as a legacy project and it was here we parked the car and took a bus into Soccer City. It turns out that a friend of mine, Steve McKevitt, led the design team back in the UK that designed all the graphic imagery used at the centre. Small world eh? Getting smaller I hope!

Conversation on the bus centred around poor old Robert Green again. Jokes being spun by a couple of the local lads who worked for Nike. ‘God save the Green’ and ‘Green’s computer had developed a virus and it can’t save anything’ tickled me in a quasi ironic way, but it was all well intentioned. Everyone out here is mad on football and so many of the lads know more about English football than most England fans. From Thomas the security guard at Dom’s who is a walking encyclopaedia of world football to the lads on the bus, to the boys who work in the hotels and bars, through to every taxi driver, football knowledge is both deep, accurate and ubiquitous.

We had a pleasant drive to the ground, arriving a full two and a half hours before kick off, to allow for ‘ticket acquistion’. Five minutes after parking I found a local lad and parted with 800 Rand ( about £80) for two tickets, which felt like a great deal given our England tickets for the first round have a face value of $140 USD, thank you FIFA.

The sun was out and very hot and the armosphere created by the Dutch all bedecked in orange along with the Danes was first class. The Vuvuzelas could be heard throughout and added to the good humour. What a pleasant experience, more so being neutrals and not having the stress of having to endure an England performance for once! Happy days. The stadium is impressive, like a slightly larger Wembley inside and pretty steep. We were surrounded by locals all who were full of smiles and laughter. The game passed without much really happening if I am honest. Holland’s subs did not warm up at half time, and good old Jubulani managed to fly through the air and bounce high at every opportunity, spoiling the game for the most part. So much so that it was only 15 minutes in before the crowd started a Mexican Wave which lasted a full five minutes. Even the goalies got bored with the ball and punted it to one another without any other player touching it. Holland looked solid all over the pitch and should progress to the second stage easily enough.

Getting out and back to the Nike centre was easy enough, unlike the previous time the stadium was used, when all the bus drivers went on strike over pay and conditions which happens a lot out here. I am never sure who is in the right, employer or employee, but it is happening all of the time. Everytime you ask the question as to why this is happening more than not, the answer comes back ‘this is Africa’.

The perfect footballing afternoon, a carnival atmosphere and totally relaxing. Only one blip really as we filed out of the ground we got talking with or rather talked at by a couple of old school white blokes. One of them asked me, ‘why do you think there are holes in the outside shell covering the stadium?’. When I replied,’ because it is part of the design and let’s light out at night’, I was told ‘no man, it is because the bloody Sowetans have stolen them’, followed by guffaws of laughter. Obviously I nearly laughed myself to death, given this boorish oaf’s hilarious gag, ignored him and walked off in the opposite way. Anyone laughing at their own jokes is somewhat suspect in my view, but to be openly dismissive was somewhat cliched. Still cliches are their for reason aren’t they? Let’s hope that these two were the only dinosaurs in the crowd of 83465 at Soccer City that day.

Home and hosed, we caught the Italy vs Paraguay match on TV later that evening over a few beers. The Italians were pleased to get a draw, looked a little toothless up front, but still looked a tough team to beat. The weather was appalling, rain litterally falling out of the sky, not boding well for our next stop Cape Town.

Cape Town Capers! (Kirsty’s blog) – Tuesday 15th June – posted Thursday 17th June

We had a great flight down from Joburg to Cape Town and arrived in glorious sunshine (don’t know what eveyone was on about saying it’s deep mid winter!), it’s my first time in Cape Town and I wasn’t expecting it to look so European and more than a bit colonial. We arrive at our lovely boutique hotel which we found last minute a couple of days ago and after a quick change, set off in a cab to find fun and frolics.

F’n’F aren’t hard to find as we met up with ‘the boys’! If you read the Germany World Cup 2006 blog then you might recognise Eva Major aka Swampy (due to his recycling duties in Germany), Eva Minor (his little bruv), Dave and Jimmy. Laughter soon followed and we were regaled with stories of their various foibles which have been discovered recently since sharing accomodation. Steve/Eva Major has been accused of being a shower dodger as no one had witnessed him take a shower that morning, so unfortunately it’s looking likely that he’ll have to be called Swampy again (he was also accused of snoring like a drain). Though perhaps not the most alluring image that the boys conjured up, is of Dave striding out of the bathroom absolutely starkers apart from copious amounts of tissue paper all over his face where he’d cut himself shaving. As Eva Major said, he has no idea how he survives to live another day each morning with such a heavy blood loss! Mind you, both of the Eva brothers have been a bit razor shy and it looks like they haven’t shaved since arriving in South Africa, earning the nickname Grisly Adams for the pair of them. As I patiently took the usual amount of superflous stick about being a female at football, how I shouldn’t be there and that’s it’s a waste of a ticket, I’d like to take this vindictive opportunity to point out how much Alan/Eva Minor looks like Reg Varney from ‘On the Buses’ (he really does though!)

We left the pub and went to a fantastic restaurant, screen for football, great seafood, gorgeous wine and so much laughing I had face ache again.

We’ve heard from Dom, Nat and Pilks on their marathon tour and to add to their mammoth drive across country, not only have they been diverted for 100k due to an accident closing the road, they then hit roadworks and to add insult to injury it then started to snow…in Africa! They will all deserve a medal when they get back, by then they will have been to 7 games in 7 days all over the country by car.

By the way, it’s absolutely f f f f f freezing here too!!! I’m having to wear my goose down Kilimanjaro coat, might suit England on Friday, in fact I’m hoping both the traditional British weather here in Cape Town, coupled with a ball behaving itself normaly at sea level really will suit our boys on Friday.

Full day touring the numerous vineyards tomorrow, wine tasting, a bit more wine tasting, some scenery and errr a lot more wine tasting before the host nation’s big game in the evening :o)

Back soon,

Kirst – stings like a butterly, bruises like a peach

Monday 14th June

Full account to come, we are leaving Johhannesburg now and heading down to Cape Town. Because roaming is visciously expensive out here, I am taking advantage of some wifi to upload yesterday’s pics. Here goes!

Monday 14th June

Well after lots of raving and a fair bit of ranting in Rustenberg, we made our way back to Joburg with me squashed in the boot. When spirits were high on the way there, seven fully grown adults squeezed into one car was quite funny but on the return journey when we were slightly deflated and thinking about the next days headlines regarding Green’s spillage, then getting tossed around in the boot of the car with all the coats and bags like being in a large tumble drier, wasn’t quite as funny.

I’m actually feeling really sorry for Green as he’s usually a safe pair of hands and that was very uncharacteristic of him, I know he’s not the most popular man at the moment but I do feel that there was another 45 minutes for the rest of the team to score after his dreadful mistake, so I don’t think we can blame him for the draw as he wasn’t solely responsible, the other 10 men had plenty of chances to redress the balance. Also, I’m not making excuses for them but the ball is really behaving strangely at this high altitude and passes are long and shots on goal are going way too high because the ball just seems to travel through the thinner air a lot more easily. Germany played brilliantly the other day and they had the added advantage of playing at sea level in Cape Town, so I think our performance will be much better down there on Friday.

Anyway, yesterday we decided to head over to Soweto and Soccer City to see if we could pick up any tickets on the street for the Holland vs Denmark game. I’ve never been to Soweto before and I was overwhelmed by the sheer size of the township, it goes on for ever, it appears to be a sea of dwellings stretching for miles. The government have built new brick built houses however the older shacks are still there and the whole area is really densly populated. Then all of a sudden, there in the middle of Soweto is the Nike Football Academy, which is a centre set up for all the local youths to come and train at, it’s super modern with a fantastic media area, great pitches and coaches and the local kids can come along and use the new Nike boots and kit and take part. They run tournaments and training sessions and it’s one of the brilliant legacies that this World Cup will leave behind.

Onward to Soccer City and the brand spanking new stadium where we easily found someone with tickets to sell outside the ground, we bought them from a local guy for 800 Rand (about £80) and didn’t haggle as it was about half the price of the face value, though the locals do get a substantial discount for all the games and this subsidising means that far more South Africans will attend games that perhaps they wouldn’t have done if they had to pay the same price as the visitors.

So we’re now surrounded by orange and the Dutch really do go to town on their outfits, there’s some corking ones, and for some reason the Dutch blokes seem to favour very snug orange catsuits that leave nothing to the imagination! I had a sudden urge for a chilli dog (very nice it was too!)

When we get to our seats we’re right up in the gods and the stadium is amazing, enormous and extremely impressive. It’s great design outside as well as inside and the atmosphere is fantastic. The capacity is a generous 94,000 though it seems much bigger than that. As we sit down we get chatting to the guys around us and it turns out that the guy sitting next to me helped build the stadium and had been working there throughout the build and he was quite rightly very proud of it (he’s the one in white in the picture), there was also a guy sitting right behind me with a huge vuvuzela however despite the controversy about the noise of them back home, they really do add to the atmosphere when you’re there and you get used to the noise. African football just wouldn’t be the same without vuvuzelas!

Holland won convincingly despite the high altitude making it look like a game of keepy uppy, you can really feel the altitude in Soweto, it’s harder to breathe and it looked like they were playing with a beachball.

So Andy, Simon, Chris and I head back to Johannesburg in Nat’s car while Nat, Dom and Pilks head off for a mammoth car journey across county to try and do seven football matches in seven days…madness!!!

We went for the civilised option of heading out for dinner in Lonehill, fantastic prawns, gorgeous ostrich and superb South African wines.

Packing first thing in the morning and flying to Cape Town, wine tour tomorrow, a trip to Robben Island, lots of sushi and football on Friday = very very excited!

Sunday 13th June – Aftermath

Woke up nice and early and decided to watch the local TV and see if they replayed ‘that goal’ or more accurately ‘that fumble’. I need not have worried. on SABC Rob Green’s howler was replayed on the 15 minute mark, 4 times an hour. Bad news is currency all over the world. The South African TV was however somewhat more balanced than the local Sky TV feed which comes ‘direct from London’. There is no need for me to cover the detail, you can guess the rest. Ok, it was England’s howler and therefore the English media have the right to unload with both barrels, but a sense of measure would be nice. Before the match I casually predicted a 1-1 draw and a media outrage. I would have settled for a draw before the game in any case. So I got the score right and there was a media bile storm but maybe the outrage was for a different reason. Anyway, like all disasters lessons need to be learned, quickly. Who knows if Mr Capello will stick with the West Ham stopper (oxymoron anyone?) or revert to the apparently injured David James, although the player himself vehemently denies that he is anything other than fully fit. Is that attitude a clue as to why James has not been picked perhaps?

Anyway, let’s leave the politics to the politicians. But to quote one journo of repute, Robert Green is one of the most level headed and normal footballers and certainly the most charity minded. Perhaps he deserves a little bit of consideration. I don’t recall David Seaman getting this much flak when he conceded the ‘wonder goal’ from Ronaldino in Shikzouka eight years back. Anyway, move on Andy.

Another quick thing to highlight is the amount of foreign national fans inside the grounds. Don’t be fooled, whilst there were thousands of English and American fans inside the stadium on Saturday night, blowing the pre match reports from FIFA of the tickets sold in each country, numbers were swelled, especially within the English ranks, by local support, much of it die hard and totally genuine. There are loads of South Africans who follow England, Holland and Portugal ( the biggest Portuguese community outside Portugal lives in South Africa). Expect to see loads of orange shirts at Holland’s games – thousands will be from the Netherlands, but many more will live here.

So back to Sunday morning. Dom, Nat and Pilks were off early doors having had a few hours sleep and fuelled only in Kelloggs Corn Flakes and toast, to see the ‘El Grande Classico’ at Polokwane in the north of the country. Dom has a propensity to work in a binary fashion.Everything is either 1 or 0, on or off. He has bought so many tickets for this World Cup it defies belief, indeed it makes my 16 games at Euro 96 look tame, more so when you take into account the distances travelled. His enthusiasm is legendary, effusive and actually contagious. No wonder he has had such a positive effect on the team at Nike where he works.

The aforementioned ‘El Grande Classico’ was the lunchtime match between Algeria and Slovenia, who are both in England’s group of course. Kirsty, Simon, Chris and I decided to stroll down to the local shopping centre and have a relaxed lunch. We weighed up the options and decided on the aptly named ‘Chefs in Motion’ and enjoyed a wonderful lunch consisting amongst other things of antelope, ostrich, kudu, prawns, line fish and beef. Although you could mix Lonehill up with one of the smarter districts of LA on a bad day, there is no doubt at all that the fayre is vastly superior. The match was pretty uneventful, but there were some signs that both Algeria and Slovenia have some pace that will worry our defence, especially Mr Carragher who looked tired as he ran out as a sub on Saturday. We decided to head over to the mock Italian Rennaissance Monte Casino centre to watch the Ghana vs Serbia game. Along the way we met a couple James and Lauren, walking their dogs Willow a Great Dane pup and Hobbs a golden Labrador. Out of nowhere, they offered to drive the four of us to our destination, thus reliving the squeeze of the night before, Pilks being replaced by the two dogs! A lovely touch from warm and friendly people who like everyone else here are so proud of the World Cup being held in their country. Indeed Lauren said that she never watched football until now, but having seen it she had changed her mind, which she admitted had been closed to football previously. Another convert to the beautiful game.

Duly dropped off at Monte Casino, we found the Fan Fest and settled in to watch the Ghana vs Serbia match on the big screen. This was another Vuvuzela experience. Plenty of noise, dancing and general good vibes. My only downside on the Vuvuzela, which has come in for a lot of criticism back home, is that I have almost lost my voice given that I have had to shout so much in normal conversation.

The game itself was tight and settled by a penalty for the second cynical hand ball in the penalty area of the day. Pleased to see Ghana nick it if I am honest, and the assembled crowd cetainly backed their fellow Africans all the way. So far during all the matches we have been at or watched on the big screens, there has been much alcoholic consumption and absolutely zero confrontation. Just goes to show that alcohol and football fans can mix if the attitude is right, after all rugby has managed it for years.

End of the match and we got word from Dom’s possee that they were on their way back from Polokwane and we were going to meet up for a Sunday evening ruby and catch the Germany vs Australia game. Just what we needed after a huge meal, a vat of wine and a keg of beer each! Still we all decided to play the team game and had a very nice curry, even I personally felt like Monsieur Michelin.

Back to base to see the second half of the match and see the Germans look frighteningly awesome. Poor old Australia never got in the game, and the decision that saw Tim Cahill straight red carded was a disgrace. Pre match talk, mainly by me of ‘fancying Germany in round 2’ was buried hastily. Indeed a good friend from Germany, Ralf, texted in to say he was pleased with the way his team performed. Pleased? I would have been positively salivating if England had put a shift in to that standard, and therein lies the problem. It is down to mentality, technical ability and tactics, things traditionally that England generally lack or at least fail to get right together. To win World Cups you need these attributes. Maybe we should stick to winning friends and having a good time? I think we could enjoy the experience more…

Here we go…the start of the 2010 South African World Cup! (Kirsty’s blog)

The morning started when we were awoken at 6am by the sound of vuvuzelas and car horns out in the street, the excitement is palpable (by the way, the noise never stopped it’s just got louder and louder throughout the day!)
We decided to watch the opening ceremony and the first game of the tournament in a local bar and there wasn’t a shortage of places to choose from, the world and his dog (literally, dogs have been seen wearing South African shirts) are out in force for this historical moment, the excitement has reached fever pitch and the South Africans are quite rightly seriously proud to be the hosts of one of the biggest sporting events in the World.
After an brilliant afternoon watching South Africa vs Mexico in a local bar with Jules, our ears have just about become accustomed to the deafening din of vuvuzelas in a small bar. Being South African I thought Jules would be fine with the sound of vuvuzelas but she admitted that she found them really loud and she visibly jumped every time there was an unexpected blast. When South Africa scored, Johannesburg and everyone at Soccer City in Soweto and I’m sure the rest of the country went properly bonkers, I’ve never seen anything like it! This country has whole heartedly welcomed the World Cup and everyone young or old, football fans or not are excited and sporting green and yellow, blowing vuvuzelas and beeping horns, so imagine the reaction when SA scored! I found myself in a sea of yellow and green dancing and shouting and as soon as the match was over the vuvuzelas stopped and the dancing started, suddenly everyone throwing shapes, break dancing, street dancing and generally showing off their moves in the middle of a large circle of dancing, clapping and singing, every couple of minutes someone would be pushed into the centre to show off their moves and at one point Andy was beckoned towards the centre. You literally have never seen me move so fast to grab him and contain him…I’m sure quite a few of you have seen him dance, it can only be described as a unique style all of his own design. I just wasn’t sure that this crowd of young South Africans break dancing and shakin’ their booties on the dancefloor were really ready for Andy throwing his unusual shapes (if you’ve seen him dance, you’ll know what I mean when I say ‘pursed lips and fingertips’)

Anyway, after a thouroughly enjoyable afternoon of copious amounts of local beer, fantastic football and enthusiastic dancing we headed home, tired and emotional.

The first day of the tournament has got off to a flier.

Let’s put things into perspective. one game down, a draw thanks to a dreadful error by Robert Green and two games to play. Our World Cup campaign has got off to am averag start and now we must be focused not only on winning our next two games but scoring some goals. We all know this, but more to the point Mr Capello and his braves will be thinking of nothing else. Before the game I predicted a 1-1 draw and howls of derision from the tabloid press of ‘bring ’em home, we’re not good enough’. It turned out better than this, although from what I can see, our noble tabloid press can’t help but conform to type. We can forgive them that, after all they are desperate to sell their rags – they even have locals out here selling The Sun and The Mirror in the middle of the road as is their custom. It looks extraordinarily dangerous if you ask me.

I am sure we will line up differently against Algeria, whether Green gets picked again, I am not so sure. But I do think we will see a different formation. Rooney on his own with Gerrard behind, Lampard, Barry, Lennon, Joe Cole in midfield and a back four of Ashley Cole, John Terry and Glen Johnson. Only doubt outside of the goalie is whether we play Carragher or Upson or Dawson. Watching Upson all season, I would say my vote would be with Dawson, but I am sure Mr Capello would pick Carragher. So that’s the football speak out of the way, a good thing given that it is only a game, all be it the reason we are out here!

Keep calm, carry on.

Yesterday was one of the best days I have had at a football match since Japan 02. The atmosphere built up and up through the day. I have often said, when the England fans and players grow up, England FC may actually achieve something. Just think rugby fans and players, especially English ones. The chasm between England fans and players of the two sports is huge, but I do feel the football fans are at last getting the message. If you want to drink a gallon of beer, feel free, but do it with a smile on your face and do it with grace. Equally the environment can play a part. Yesterday, as with every day so far on this trip the locals are always smiling, always interested in meeting you, knowlegeable about football, friendly and welcoming. The American fans, in Rustenberg in their thousands, were loud, brash, patriotic and boisterous. But they were friendly and the banter was just banter and nothing else. Go back to say Italia 90 or even France 98 and things were so different. England away now is far more Barmy Army than a Mongol horde. As I said in Japan, it takes a bit of give and take on all sides and things get better. Segregation in the ground was thankfully non existent, that leads to tolerance and understanding. For those of you tired of hearing the Vuvuzelas on TV, don’t diss them. I can tell you the atmosphere they create is unique. Having them blown in your ear is a shock granted, but it is non offensive and actually quite funny. More power to the Vuvuzela, may you sound be heard throughout this World Cup.

Rustenberg was miles away from Johannesburg in every way. This was the Africa that you see on a David Dimbleby or Michael Palin documentary. Vast areas of deep red landscape, houses and shops built alongside the roads and little else. The poverty was inescapable and for those of you who have visited Africa, you will know what I mean. You do wonder when FIFA’s profiteering claw has left in just under a month, will there be a legacy? One that will actually make a difference to people’s lives? A decent as the Rustenberg stadium is, there is no visible sign of anything else. No hospital for instance, and If there is one, I bet it would be of a pretty low standard.

Having said all of this though, the afternoon in Rustenberg with Nat, Kirsty, Pilks, Dom, Chris and Simon will take a lot of beating.

The journey was a little tight, given we were 7 in a car built for 5, but at least we got banter heads in early. Dom decided that he would phone some hostelries to check availability. He spoke to Lucky Bar, Uncle Tom’s and Cecil’s Bar. Most of the recipients were clearly confused, but it amused Dom and passed the time.

We stopped by a park and ride place which was completely empty and decided to get closer to the ‘action’ which proved to ve a wise move. Along the way we saw the chap who had cycled here from England on his own, starting out in October. Hats off to him, that is some achievement.

Eventually we parked our charger in someone’s house for a small fee and then hitched a lift with the happiest bus driver known to man a short distance to JC’s bar. This was proper. Picture the scene. A place with a reed cum rushes roof, beams, thick concrete and mud walls and a long high counter which was the bar. Beer was unfeasibly cheap and round for 7 of us was about £10. When we stepped in, early doors, there were a few locals, some plastic chairs and a pleasant vibe. On a big screen in a darkened room was South Korea vs Greece, the picture a little on the fuzzy side but visible. I watched the second half whilst the others decided to take some sun in the car park entrance a lovely scene, only spoilt by a Millwall flag. Bless. South Korea looked a decent side and Greece looked like England at Euro 88. Hapless and hopeless. For the good of football let’s hope young Messi is not taken out by the Greek choppers. As one American wag in the bar quipped, ‘their football looked about as good as their economy’. Enough said.

A brief bit of sun, as some will know I am not keen on the sun, having been somewhat precocious as a child, I really do not need help with the ageing process, and back to the bar for the next match.

We managed to secure a nice spot by the empties and in front of the speakers for the Argentina vs Nigeria match. The bar was now heaving and I am sure that every drop of alcohol was sold out yesterday come 7pm. I quickly made friends with a lovely gentleman called Horace, smartly dressed in pinstripe trousers and leather jacket. Horace was from Mozambique, a neighbouring country, ravaged by civil war and economically worse off by a factor of ten than South Africa. Desperately poor then. Horace worked in the platinum mines, Rustenberg being famous for mining and worked as a winch operator. He spent all day 6 days a week underground and earned 3500 rand a month. That is about £350. Given that my experience of prices for petrol ( about 80p a litre) and groceries probably only 15-20% cheaper than the UK, you can get a feel of what sort of standard of living exists. Horace was well spoken, extremly polite, friendly and like everyone else, had a small as broad as the River Thames. He loved his football and spoke enthusiastically about a number of subjects uncluding music, travel and books. I did notice that he had a special relationship with the bar staff, and that was handy given the queue for the bar was out of the bar, and into the car park. A few beers from me for Horace and the barmaid, and we were sorted for the rest of the afternoon. Result.

We meandered off towards the stadium post Argentina’s victory against Nigeria and soaked up more of the atmosphere. Lo and behold along the way we bumped into Messrs Steve Eva, Alan Eva and Dave Mulhry all England away vets. They had spare tickets, an unusual occurrence in any tournament.

Entering the ground to the sound of the now ubiquitous Uwe Seelers, I noticed one thing missing. The sound and atmosphere was at fever pitch and all the fans were mixing and behaving like normal, mature people. The thing missing was the police. I could not see any. The checks on tickets entering the ground were carried out by polite Africans, always smiling and courteous. Was asked by one of the turnstile staff ‘Sir, would you mind drinking your beer up before entering the stadium’, I acquiesed without any hard feeling. The man even thanked me for doing so. We could all learn a thing or two about manners from these people. Lovely stuff.

In the ground we bumped into a couple of American fans who we met a few days earlier in the queue in Checkers. Chip and Dave, lovely geezers and into their football. Dave had done 4 World Cups, was in his fifties and vowed to me that he would attend every future tournament until the day he died. A man after my own heart. We discussed the fact that all the hoardings around the ground were occupied by England flags. I said that it was a reflection of our colonial DNA reflecting the need to mark our territory. This amused Dave. We bade them farewell, and I left them with ‘may the best team win’ to which Dave said ‘he just loved that British approach’.

And so to the match. The Eva boys and Dave turned out to be sitting a few seats away from us, amazing really. You all know what happened, but one thing worth sharing with you.

There was a lone young (like most of their supporters) Yank sitting a little behind us. He got a load of abuse, some of it pretty nasty from some of the idiots around him. Around us were some fellow old school England (no colours on the outside, only on the inside), a couple of Brummies, two Millwall and a couple of Scousers. 20 years ago these types would have been part of the few thousand in Naples. Without hesitation the Scousers called the Yank down and offered him a place amongst us. That was my highlight of the game. Have we changed? Yes we have to quote a famous American.

The journey home was pretty painless for me as I got to ride up front. We found our way back to the car via Minty’s Tuck Shop and 3 hours later we were back in Johannesburg and to bed. My thoughts go out to Robert Green. Don’t hang him out to dry, he doesn’t deserve it. If we have grown up, we will stop talking about 66, fate and all that claptrap. Back the players and the management team, we can progress through the group stages and get into the knockouts. Money on Green to save a penalty or two? If selected don’t bet against him. His record of penalty saves for the Hammers is simply amazing.

Friday 11th June 2010 (Andy’s blog)

Well we thought this would be a big day for South Africa and we weren’t to be let down. The World Cup opened in Soccer City, Soweto to scenes of euphoria, the like I have never ever experienced at any World Cup. Our friends Dom, Nat and Pilks were lucky enough to have tickets to the match, but Kirsty and I had to watch it in a local bar, aptly called Capello’s in Lonehill Johannesburg. We were joined by Jules (Julia) who we know, a committed Bafana Bafana fan and very knowledgeable about the game. We settled in a couple of hours before the kIck off, with some beers and a plate of ribs and wings. Everyone in the bar was decked out in yellow and green and hyped up for the game.

The game itself started nervously, with South Africa looking like they had completely frozen. The Mexicans had an impressive West Ham, Spurs and Arsenal front line and could have has a couple before SA actually woke up, but thanks to the excellent Itumeleng Khune who kept Franco out there was no damage. Throughout the game the bar was literally on fire (there were open fire features throughout, which looked great, but made for the temperature inside being at times unbearable) and the Vuvuzelas were on Defcon 5 the whole way. A nervous first half came to an end and instead of some half time punditry from messrs Barnes and some other bloke, the music went on and the whole place danced to a different full on club vibe. Think Ibiza in the afternoon sun, swimming pool style. Everyone was drinking and dancing and the place was absolutely burnin’.

So to the second half. Bafana Bafana started stronger and with more purpose. Surely the nerves had fallen away and Carlos Alberto Parreira had told his braves to go out and play. And play the did, they played like lions and were the better side. One of the moves of this World Cup climaxed with a top class goal from Stephen Tshabalala – surely one that will feature in the top 5 goals to be seen in this tournament. Needless to say the bar erupted, noise, jubilation and sheer emotion outpouring. Amazing stuff. I had tears in my eyes and found myself grabbing and hugging anyone. This is football.

After that it felt like another England World Cup match or worse still West Ham everyweek! The tension was unbelievable Kirsty and I both suffering heart palpitations and back pain! Sadly and somewhat inevitable, the shaky South African defence let the Mexicans in and they got their equaliser. Unlike in England where everyone would be swearing and angry, this bar went quiet for a nano second, supporters deflated by the goal temporarily, before the noise and dancing to start up again. What a lovely spirit and very refreshing to see the smiling faces smiling for precisely 89mins and 50 seconds out of the 90!

At the end of the match the bar became a club and dancing was compulsory, which is never a problem for me. A wonderful experience, nerve wracking all the way. We walked back with Jules to our digs in the pitch black to the sound of Vuvuzelas and car horns sounding. A brilliant day all round. Early to bed, for tomorrow we play our opening game in Rustenberg. I am sure it will be as nerve wracking as usual. In precisely 12 hours we will find out.

This is what we have come for, come on England.