Happier Times...

The Millennium Stadium

Although it now seems like ancient history, it was only a few weeks ago that there was a happier time when Australia still had a presence in the World Cup and I wasn't constantly being reminded of Australia's inability to produce men of sufficient stature to support a scum. Yes, there was a time when the balance of the sporting world had been restored, the Ashes had been regained, England were looking doubtful for Euro qualification and the Wallabies were doing their national duty and seeing off what passes for northern hemisphere rugby. Unfortunately it took only 80 all too short minutes last Saturday for this balance was destroyed... Despite the pain of having to turn to the Saffas for any hope of restoring southern hemisphere pride, I still thought it might be worth taking the time in between drowning my sorrows in too many warm ales to revisit a time when the outlook wasn't quite so bleak...

The Wallabies manage a scrum without doing an ostrich impersonation

This happier time was best represented by Gerg and my recent trip to Cardiff to watch the Wallabies do the business against the Welsh. Having been ambushed into buying exorbitantly priced tickets to the match (Gerg called after I had already knocked back quite a few cervezas in San Sebastian, where the pressing need for fiscal prudence wasn't the first thing on my mind), we spent a week trying to work out how we were going to get to Cardiff and where we were going to stay when we got there. Not having much luck on either front, we were looking forward to spending a night in a car, until we found a campsite which was only a short cab ride from the centre of Cardiff. After this, the trip started to seem like a better and better idea, if only for the prospect of a few pints of Brains, undoubtedly one of the very best beers in the world...

Who's that fat man?

Having sorted transport and accommodation, it was an early Saturday morning departure for Cardiff, hoping to beat the inevitable traffic along the M4. Things were looking good, despite a few delays in picking up the car, until we reached the outskirts of Bristol, from which point there was congestion all the way through the Severn Crossing, Newport and Cardiff, which had us a little highly strung as kick-off rapidly neared, particularly considering the amount we had shelled out for the tickets. The prospect of having to drop the car off at the campsite in Penarth and then get back into Cardiff to collect the tickets was of particular concern and I don't think the very laid back campground staff really appreciated two anxious phone calls to confirm that there was a taxi waiting for us...

Anyways, after dumping the car at the camp site, jumped in a taxi back to town, picked up the tickets, inhaled a Big Mac and secured our four pints of Brains, we were finally seated in the Stadium a full 10 minutes before kick-off - it had only taken us a bit over 7 hours from bed to seat...

Gerg with Brains

As soon as the teams ran on to the field all the hassles immediately seemed worth it, as the roar was absolutely unbelievable, while not normally a fan of cliches, it truly did send a shiver down your spine... Unfortunately too much Australian dominance in the first half limited the Welsh singing, though on the upside this did have me starting to feel hopefully of a strong Wallabies run in the tournament (how silly this now seems). Anyways, the match ended up being a pretty close contest as the Welsh put in a pretty spirited comeback, unlike the garbage their eastern neighbours had dished up against the Saffas the previous night - a point that was frequently raised in a few pubs after the match.

A sea of red and gold go in search of a pub

For those that have not been to Cardiff, it is a pretty impressive sight after a match with most of the streets in the centre of town being closed off to traffic and rapidly filled with 80,000 odd thirsty people. As the Canadians played the Fijians the next day, there was a good combinations of Canucks, Aussies and Welsh out and about (though not too many Fijians). Wikipedia recons that the Millennium Stadium went through 77,000 pints for a 6 Nations match a few years ago and considering the scenes on St Mary Street, that number must have been given a good shake again...

Sculpture on Cardiff's Waterfront

The other notable late night feature of downtown Cardiff in the Chip Lane, which is wall to wall dodgy fish and chip and kebab shops (where for some reason chili sauce means curry?), however unsurprisingly after a few too many Brains that seedy kebab wasn't looking as bad as it should have been... The night was topped off by seeing Georgia almost knock off the Irish (they really should have if they had had a little more composure), which had the pub full of Welsh, Aussies and Canucks going crazy...

Eating's cheating, but who could resist such a dodgy kebab?

Next morning we headed down to the Penarth waterfront for a breakfast heart-starter, during which I managed to get told off for swearing by an old man heading to church (out of character for me i know!). We also squeezed in a few of the sights of the Cardiff waterfront including the new Welsh Assembly Building and Wales Millennium Centre, though we couldn't help thinking that the area is still a few years away from actually 'working'. Not being able to find parking anywhere, we decided to keep the Castle for another day and headed up into the Valleys for a short drive before heading back to London.

Penarth Pier

One final stop on the way back for a pub lunch near Boxford (after driving a good 10 miles down a B road, surely the longest distance in the UK without a pub) and that was it was a very good (if tiring) weekend all round!