Auckland I seem to remember. I think it was Monday. England had just beaten Scotland, no that was the day before, the Quarter Final line-up had been decided, that sounds more like it. I'll recap:
Carter-less New Zealand vs Lobbe-less Argentina
Steyn-less South Africa vs (Insert any back's name)-less Australia
Fearless Ireland vs Nothing-to-lose Wales
Friend-less England vs France
France's squad have been so bad, and put so little in, they didn't deserve an adjective.
Every day seems to bring another story involving England players. We've had Tindall's blond, Dwarf-throwing drunks, Haskell, Hartley and Ashton and the barmaid, Ballgate and now Tuilagi and his sponsored gum shield. What next? Wilkinson found drunk at the bottom of Queen Street? Simon Shaw found trying to ride a Pedalo to Waiheke Island? Ironic then that they play the only side in more turmoil in France. Lievremont is as popular as Dominic Strauss-Kahn at the moment. The players seem to have no team-spirit. The side has no specialist number 10. The pack seem dynamo-less. The captain has always been a weakness. Eden Park won't know what has hit it this Saturday.
Contrary to this, Ireland and Wales are both on a high. Declan Kidney could pick his side with his eyes closed, such has been the smooth passage since their nervy opener against the USA. Wales's progress hasn't been without hiccoughs, but they have got to the QFs, something many thought may not happen, and as such everything from here on in is a bonus. They will feel that Ireland in the Quarters rather than Australia is a definite plus. The question now is, with most of these guys knowing each other from the Celtic League, European Cup and 6 Nations, will familiarity play a role and turn this into a tight edgy affair?
South Africa would be hot favourites against the Aussies, but the injury to Francois Steyn is hurting them, and some would say as much as the multitude of Aussie back injuries. Mitchell was the latest to limp out against Russia, another "Hammie" victim as they call them over here. The Boks pack will have too much for the Aussies for me though. The Aussie media make out that their front row is the best in the world. Best in Australia maybe.
New Zealand are lucky that they have the Argentinians to play next. Were they to play another side, hungry for the semis and capable of imposing their game against Slade at 10, then I would be a little less bullish, but the Argentinians have struggled since that opener against England, and the Georgians really pushed them in the last Pool game. So Slade should get another sighter, and Weepu will probably get another 20 to see what he can do, as I can't see this one being within 20 points.
The IRB have been busy this week, with Tuilagi's fine for gumshieldgate being nothing compared to the rest of the goings-on. Samoa's Eliota Sapolu has been banned from all forms of rugby indefinitely following his tweets after the game against referee Nigel Owens. He accused him of racism in his decision-making, and then was absent from 2 disciplinary hearings. In addition, both England and France lost a player this week, with Armitage suspended for 1 game for a high tackle on Patterson, and Estebanez banned for three games (the tournament effectively) for a similar, though worse, incident against Tonga. Finally, they have told the host broadcaster, Sky, that repeats of the scenes of England vs Scotland are not to be tolerated... What scenes you may ask? A bloke asking his girlfriend to marry him via a board he held up.... Concentrate on the Rugby. Ridiculous really isn't it?
France have picked their side for the big game, and at last they have moved away from Traille in any position. Pace increases as a result, as England's pace will decrease with the departure of Armitage as discussed above. They have still plumped for Parra at 10 outside Yachvili at 9, which I struggle to comprehend. Trinh-Duc, critical though I have been of him, must surely be a better option than someone who rarely plays at 10? England will decide between Cueto and Banahan as replacement for Armitage (I'd suggest Cueto) and are awaiting fitness reports on Wilkinson and Tindall, who has certainly experienced more problems in the past four weeks than he has caused.
Final rugby comment comes from criticism of the tournament from a non-Union following friend. 40 games and the Top 8 seeds are in the QFs, he argues; Waste of time. I feel he is being a little harsh. This is the first time in a good while that that has been the case, and as the rugby league which he is happy to offer as a better game, has only three sides at the top level of the game, yet it still throws up a World Cup of 8 teams, with no tension whatsoever in the early days.
So, to New Zealand itself. I'm getting to understand the locals now, and have come up with my own rule of understanding the vowel sounds. Basically, forget about the Os as they are the same, but you need to take every other vowel, and move the pronunciation back 1 vowel in the alphabet, so A becomes E, E becomes I, I becomes U and U becomes A. Following me? Probably not, so here's a demonstration.
A cricket bat becomes a cruckit bet
A doorbell becomes a doorbill
A little bit becomes a luttle but
And a duck becomes a dack
So wuth thet lisson you'll niver heve a problem anderstendung a New Zealender egin ay?
Monday was the first day without rugby, and I had a lie-in intending to stroll around Auckland, do a little shopping maybe, and just chilling. I got down to the ferry terminal though and there was a ferry leaving for Waiheke Island. While the day looked grim, there was a little chance the cloud would lift so I headed over the 45 minute trip and took a 90 minute guided tour which took in the history, the views and the different elements of life on the island. The guide Glen, or was it Glyn - he had a vowel problem - was full of useful information, and useless information too it must be said as he regaled us with tales of what you can by from a hardware store amongst other things. I jumped off 75 minutes in and went to the Stonyridge vineyards, where I had a little private tasting. A chardonnay, a merlot, 3 cab savs, and a syrah later I wandered back down the lane to the bus and headed back to the Terminal. The ferry back was, how can I put this, rough. Waves breaking over the bridge, an alternative route taken, according to the bloke opposite me, for the second time in the ten years he'd been a regular traveller. An interesting 45 minutes. From there a stroll back up to the hotel, via Starbucks to check various e-mails, twitter, blog comments (none again, miserable buggers), status updates and the like. Having ordered a cup of tea and installed myself, the rain started. It was only heavy to start with, but it got worse, and worse and ultimately worse still to such a point that it was coming down horizontally, in huge raindrops, and the road down Queen Street resembled the World's Biggest Log Flume. 90 minutes later and the weather finally broke long enough for me to take the ten minute walk up the hill, where a burger and glass of wine in the hotel bar saw me through to a relatively early night.
Happy Birthday to me
Happy Birthday to me
Happy birthday dear Mark
Happy Birthday to me
Such did I greet myself yesterday morning as I woke early to get to the airport and fly to Queenstown on the day of my 39th birthday. I know, I know. Those of you who know me refuse to believe I am 39, but the youthful good looks are misleading. Bus to airport having left behind my cell, sorry room. Air New Zealand have a novel bag check-in process. You check your bag in and if it is overweight, they don't put it on the plane. That meant I had to get 4.5kg of stuff out of my case and into my already densely packed hand-luggage. 5 rugby shirts were crammed in, and with rucksack bursting at the seams, the case went in to the hold. A nice 90 minute flight, which became a little wobbly as we approached the descent into the mountainous Queenstown area. The views were incredible. The views at the airport itself were even better. When I got off the bus at Queenstown itself, words failed me. Surrounded by snow-covered peaks, the lakes stretched into the distance and glinted in the glorious sunshine. The town has an old-style feel to it, with nice cafes, outward bound shops, bars and restaurants mixing easily with shops selling tickets for the various adventures on offer.
A soup and sandwich lunch, followed by an ice cream treat for the birthday boy, and I decided to grasp the nettle and approach a couple of phobias. I'm not good with heights. Never have been. Cable cars are as such an absolute no-no. I've been on one before (Table Mountain, coming back down and that only because the fog was so thick it was not advised to walk down). Still, I paid my money and boarded the gondola up to the top of the Sklyline, 465m above Queenstown and home of splendid views across the lake, and on such a clear day, stunning. I had also bought tickets for the Skyluge, a kind of downhill go kart. What I hadn't realised was that involved a chairlift even further up the mountain. So, phobia number 2 was beaten. Twice. The luge was fun too, and my body weight clearly served as an advantage, as momentum took me down quicker than everyone in front of me. A few photos afterwards and I braved the gondola down again. All-in-all a fabulous start to my 4 days in Queenstown and a great way to spend a birthday.
I checked into the hotel finally and after the first cell, this is more like it. 2 beds, a balcony and a TV. A proper room at last. The view from the balcony takes the breath away too..... much more like it.
Queenstown has currently more Irish than locals I think. All ages, all counties, they seem to have invaded in coaches, camper vans and cars. Another name to add to the list of players seen so far. Trevor Brennan, ex Ireland forward and still, I believe, banned after a vicious attack on a French supporter while playing in France. He seemed like a lovely fellow when I bumped into him in the street yesterday, though to be fair given his size and reputation, I wouldn't have said otherwise!!.
There are plenty of French too, sitting in a local French restaurant, telling the owner where he was going wrong.... Just like with their rugby team, everyone seems to have an opinion... "We're in a rush", they say, "can you serve us quickly?". "How quick is quick?". "We only have an hour and a half". Aha, French lunch!!
The birthday dinner was a rack of ribs at Flame, overlooking the lake. Delicious, washed down with a nice red wine. Relatively well-behaved, I had a couple of nightcaps before heading back, setting the alarm fro 9am and getting ready for the morning's activity - Shotover Jet at 1030am. The short bus ride to the Shotover Canyon amid stunning scenery (what else?) was the entree, and the 30 minute ride at up to 50mph, within inches of rocks and including 360 degree turns. The dozen or so spins, in either direction, meant you got wet whichever side of the 14 man boat you were on. The windburn from the speed was also something to behold, and the glorious sunshine down here means a little colour returning to the face for the first time in a while (will be hard to experience the UK in November after the last 24 hours). The jet experience was good, but not as good as all that, or maybe I just became accustomed to travelling at high speeds within inches of certain death. Tomorrow's rafting has been upgraded from Beginner to Adventurer, due to lack of interest in the basic trip, which means a long and wet experience for me down the same river (different section) as today on the jet boat. Looks like fun....
I've only been here a day, but I love Queenstown. I'm off for lunch now, alcohol free as I try desperately to be relatively good while I can.
That's all from me for now.
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