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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.

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.

Got up and packed. Did the handshake hug things with my brothers from different mothers. The hugs had to be those blokey Kiwi ones with clenched fists so no one thinks anyone is gay. It was still pretty moving in a macho kind of way.

Took a taxi to the airport and found a cheap as direct flight to Gatwick leaving later in the day.

The flight was delayed so to kill a little time I bought a US$170 cup of coffee. Admittedly there were two huge taxi rides up into the Blue Mountains and a tour of Craigton Estate coffee plantation. Apparently the Blue Mountains provide perfect growing conditions for growing the temperamental arabica coffee plant and thus the best coffee in the world. 85% of the coffee from Craigton Estate is exported to the Japanese, who are prepared to pay a premium for it. The tour was well worth it but the guide lost me when he said the growing conditions were so perfect that BlueMountain has 65% less caffeine than regular coffee. What is the point then?

Got on flight. Hardly slept. Got off the red-eye at Gatwick wrecked from lack of sleep as per usual.

Bad packing

I took a number of things with me that I took/paid for and never used. These include:

• A flight from London to Antigua (lost passport and missed original flight)
• A flight from Antigua to St Lucia (lost passport and missed original flight)
• A flight from Jamaica to Barbados (got knocked out and didn’t go to the final)
• A flight from St Lucia to Antigua (got knocked out and came straight home from Jamaica)
• A flight from Antigua to London (got knocked out and came straight home from Jamaica)
• A sleeping bag (what was I thinking)
• Hiking shoes (wore jandals every day)
• Formal shoes in case we went somewhere nice (insanity)
• Long pants in case we went somewhere nice (further insanity)

All in all a lot of expensive or bulky unnecessary items.

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.

Spend the morning looking into flights. Service in the West Indies works on West Indian time which is slightly faster than a complete stop – but only just. So didn’t really get anywhere but have found out what some of my options might be. So much depends on the game tomorrow. Wish I could say I was more confident. I know the Kiwi team have an amazing game of cricket in them, we just need them to pull it out tomorrow against the Sri Lankans.

Went to the Bob Marley Museum in Kingston. Partly because there is not much else to do in Kingston but mostly because I love his music and wanted to find our more about him. The museum was awesome and included his triple platinum award for Legend that has sold over twenty million copies worldwide. The funniest part by far was a clip on the tour video from his 1979 Babylon by Bus Tour that included scenes of Kiwis at Western Springs (in Auckland) stoned off their lids. Totally unexpected and completely hilarious.

After that looked around town for a Kiwi flag. I even walked through a couple of areas after being explicitly told that they were to dangerous for tourist. Even ‘big’ tourists. My confidence was bolstered by the fact that school had just been let out and there were loads of kids around to form a circle and scream “FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!” if anything kicked off. Despite my amazing bravery I didn’t find a flag. Plan ‘B’ is to run through the reception of the hotel that the Kiwi team is staying in and rip one off the ceiling and then to make for the back door at top speed. Will do a proper cost benefit analysis on this one over a few beers.

Slept in then took a look around Kingston. Not much open because it is a Sunday. God doesn’t like tourists it seems.

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.

Six of us have gambled that the Kiwis will beat the Sri Lankans and have booked flights from Jamaica to Barbados after the semi. Hummus chickened out and says he will wing it if we get through.

I put loads more pictures on my flickr.com account.

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.