HUBBERS DOT COM BLOG

This is a photo from McDonalds’ special Rugby World Cup menu. I would suggest adding the following menu items. A low calorie bag of hot air for Australia. A very blunt instrument (probably a spoon) for South Africa. Something bland and disappointing for England. A bag of sour grapes for Stephen Jones to eat. A doormat for France after their first performance. And nothing dangerous that the Kiwis might choke on.

We touched down in Marseilles to the amazing news that Argentina had convincingly beaten the hosts France in the opening match. This is shocking news as the team that comes second in the so called pool of death will head to Cardiff to face the All Blacks. France ideally wanted to delay this encounter until Paris for the final where they would have had home ground advantage. Now they are playing for their lives and have to beat Ireland just to have a chance to progress out of the pool.

It took us a couple of hours to clear customs and clear up the booking mess made by our Etap hotel after they gave out rooms out to anyone and everyone who asked for them before we arrived. Thankfully we asked for a room from another couple and all was sorted out.

By the time we caught up with Russ, Russ, Cam and Phil who took an earlier flight they were well smashed. I took a great video of Phil ripping of a locked drinks fridge. There was little chance of getting caught as the French bar owners were drowning their sorrows.

Up at 11 the next day the nine of us decided to walk to the game as it was a very sunny day. Stopped for a beer on the way. When we got to the stadium we settled in and Cam spent forty euros on alcohol free beer for everyone. That was nice of him.

The Italians made an early mistake by ignoring the Haka. The snub must have really ticked off the All Blacks because it only took them 68 seconds to score their first try. Eighty minutes later the Italians had let in 10 more tries and the All Blacks took the game 64 – 14. Allowing the Italians one intercept try and another late one off a poorly judged kick in our own 22. The intercept was the worrying one as it was an intercept by Australia that put us out of the last world cup and we seem to give one away every game these days.

After the game we had a couple of beers (with alcohol) and a meal for the first court session. After only 24 hours on tour we had enough fines to finish off a bottle of Lemoncini between the 9 of us.

An all night drinking session followed. Later on in the evening we even met Brad Butterworth OBE the Kiwi yachtsman who won us the Americas cup and then went to work for another syndicate and won it back off us. It didn’t make him very popular at home. He was very approachable and seemed like a good guy.

I went home around one or two and managed to dislocate my thumb on the way. Luckily it popped straight back in. Some of the boys who got in around five were warned by friendly locals that they were drinking with that it was too dangerous for them to stay out. Apparently some of the other locals were looking for a fight with Kiwis and it was no longer safe to be out in Marseilles. We woke the next day to find out that three of our group had been pick-pocketed for mobiles or wallets (although one may have had that done by the local guy she was kissing). Someone also saw a guy on a scooter try to steal a handbag off the passenger seat of a parked car. Marseilles is a nice town but it seems you have to be pretty vigilant or the locals will rob you blind.

If you are travelling to Marseilles make sure you read this guide to spotting pockpocketers first.

On Sunday we had a relaxed start and the boys had a topless swim (when in Rome) with the locals at one of the beaches.

In other rugby news. A lot of the minnow teams made their major league counterparts look decidedly average. Samoa were only down 9-7 after 30 minutes. Ireland barely subdued Namibia 32-17. America made England work for every point of their 28-10 victory. And Canada led Wales 17-9 after 45 minutes.

The moment that rugby fans the world over have been waiting for begins today. The 7th Rugby World Cup kicks off in Paris with a game between France and Argentina.

New Zealand’s mighty All Blacks are the favourites again. In fact we have been expected to win most of the times we have entered but somehow it doesn’t work out that way. We won the first World Cup at home against the French in 1987 but since then we have struggled. In 1991 we were outclassed by Australia. In 1995 the entire team got food poisoning before the final in South Africa. In 1999 we were devastated by the French in the final 30 minutes of our semi final. Many Kiwis regard this as a worse offence than the bombing of the Rainbow Warrior in Auckland harbour in 1985 by French Secret Service agents. Last time in 2003 we were also knocked out in the semi-final by the Australians who the whole world agreed were a far inferior side to the All Blacks. I wish someone has told the 15 Australians on the field.

As we are consistently ranked the number one team in the world it’s a bloody long four years each time we fail to bring home the cup. Our main competition this time should come from the South Africans who have an awesome defence but struggle to score tries unless the get a lucky intercept and the French who have hit a run of form and have the home ground advantage.

Tonight I fly out to Marseilles with the seven mates who are coming to all the games with me. The eight of us have seven weekends partying hard in Marseilles, Lyon, Toulouse, Edinburgh, Cardiff and two in Paris if we make it that far.

Wish us luck.

Glastonbury is a brilliant thing to do. The UK’s biggest and best festival has such an awesome vibe that you can host the whole thing in 6 inches of mud and everyone still has an amazing time.

Fortunately the high fence and even higher ticket price kept a lot of the riff-raff out and the whole festival was a rather chipper event. The great irony of a muddy Glastonbury is that is seems to be the most efficient way to make 120,000 middle class white kids brown for four days.

Saw loads of cool bands, ate loads of yummy food, danced in the rain, saw all sorts of hippy art and theatre (not sure how they got in). I also partied pretty hard for an old fella if I do say so myself.

Leaving was a problem as the exit near us was sooo muddy that three tractors had to tow or push cars across the last field one at a time. We spent five hours in a queue that never moved. Eventually that gate got closed because even the tractors were finding it too difficult to use. Tent flap to door it took us nearly 12 hours to get home. And then the car rental people charged us a £76 cleaning fee because the car was dirty. Well duh?

These are the photos I took at Glastonbury ;)

I am fortunate enough to have a ticket for Glastonbury 2007. The previous two times I have been to the festival the weather has been sunny or sunny intervals, as they say in weather circles. This time it appears that my luck has run out and the typical Glastonbury mud bath is expected. There have even been televised news reports of gumboot (wellingtons as they call them here) shortages in the UK.

This is the BBC weather forecast for the weekend.

The Sri Lankans stuffed us we thought they would.

The day started badly when the Sri Lankan fans who received their tickets from their team had hired a bloody band with brass and big drums to play up a storm any time Sri Lanka did anything at all. The only time they stopped playing was when we got Jayasuriya out for only 1 run. So we chanted “Where’s the drums! Where’s the drums!”. Thankfully the television people were in the next stand over any they asked them to move as the racket they were making was getting onto the live cricket feed.

After that the day went from bad to worse. Sri Lanks outperformed us with bat and ball and we never really looked like we had any answers. It was a really pity that we slipped quietly out of the world cup instead of going out with a fight.

The Kiwi boys did what we do best and got wasted together one last time.

Struggled to get up early and discovered that Woza and Hummus (The Funnel Guy) never made it home. One of the people from the yacht rental place helped us get the boat moored onto the marina. He confused the hell out of me saying things like tie a line off on the mid-cleat. Since he didn’t seem to be speaking English I let Judge help him out. It was never like this when Woza was skipper.

Woza and Hummus turn up wasted after drinknig right through at Banana Bar. Just in time to pack before the taxi to the airport. Hummus who has already lost his phone and rubber fist (don’t ask) turned up without our funnel Denise. After stopping at a couple of pubs on the way to the airport we are resigned to the fact that it is gone for good. We have changed his nickname to The Guy.

Our last job was photos and drunken songs for Nathalie. It is sad to leave our floating home for the last few weeks. We will all miss her and the great adventures we had with her.

All that is left to do is fly to Jamaica. And boy did we fly.

We woke to the news that the Kiwis had lost the rugby league to the Australians.

In one of the most clinical displays of cricket I have ever seen the Aussies put us to the sword (more like chain-sword) and won by 215 runs. At this stage it is hard to imagine us getting past the Sri Lankans in Jamaica and making the final. Gutted.

Naturally we got wasted and avoided Australians all night.

We usually park in a marina so it is easy for us to come back to the boat when we want. Because we are returning Nathalie tomorrow we have moved to True Blue marina. Unfortunately they didn’t have a berth so we are moored in the harbour. Naturally we get totally separated after the game, end up at different pubs and crawl home in various states. Beige does all the hard yards and drops Toddie off at midnight. Judge and I follow at 2am and Wendy and Beige follow at 3am. Beige even got up at 4am to have one last look for Hummus and Woza but they are MIA.

Our local taxi driver Bancroft took us on a tour of Grenada. It included a tiny volcano lake that we paid EC$20 to see, some rain forest, towns and most importantly the River Antoine Rum Distillery. The distillery was set up by the English in the 18th century and they still make rum pretty much the same way today. They even use the same giant water wheel. These days they do a 69% bottle which they export (you can’t fly with anything over 70%) and another version which they describe as a minimum of 75%. Naturally the boys all tried the 75% version after the tour. It is hard to describe the taste, probably “burning” is the closest I can get.

We still haven’t booked any post semi flights. Indecision reigns.

This game was a carbon copy of Sri Lanka game except we were the ones delivering the pasting. A much better feeling. Had our funniest day of the tournament yet as all the boys had a ball in the stands. We were a bit merciless with the South African fans. Funniest call of the day came from a drunk Saffa behind us who yelled out “South Africa you are dead to me” when they were 149 for 6 with only a few overs to go.

Followed the usual post game ritual and had a few beers at the beach house then headed out to Banana Bar.

Must have been a bit tipsy after all that drinking because I got back to the boat and made a 105 minute long mobile call to my girlfriend on my UK mobile. It cost £128.39.

Spent the day in Xtreme a local bar getting table service and watching the game on TV. Luxury.

It was an easy two points.