Saudi Arabia

I'm always genuinely surprised when I successfully manage to get through an airport and onto the plane. Thanks to a litany of travel screw ups, I always fear I'm moments from disaster. An employee turning to me and asking flippantly, “You've got your B7236  per-authorisation form right?” or even the worryingly frequent “this flight is... Continue Reading →

Patagonia – Part 1

Our option was a simple one. A flight from Buenos Aires to Ushuaia, at the far bottom of Argentina, would take four hours. A bus trip would take forty-eight hours. One promised a swift and uneventful passage. The other held possible boredom, sore backsides and potential insanity – but also a great adventure. What better... Continue Reading →

The End

The line that greeted us on Copacabana beach stretched so far that we didn't even bother finding the end. Instead we nestled ourselves in front of the second screen. The crowd was still thin – but overwhelmingly Argentinian. A lone German stood proudly behind us in his speedos, a German flag fluttering gently beside him.... Continue Reading →

Brasilia

 On the penultimate day of the World Cup we traveled to Brasilia for the third/fourth place play-off, between Brazil and Holland. Twelve hours in Brazil's capital, of which I had high hopes. Brasilia is unfortunately an unrelentingly boring city. Unless you have a particular interest in tarmac and fly-overs – or you get a real... Continue Reading →

Dream No More

Goal after goal. After goal. After goal. The Germans bellowed until their throats cracked. The Brazilians carried an empty vacant look. A look of complete astonishment – and also near complete pain. The rain hammered down around us. Brazil's dreams had been obliterated in one astonishing half of football. Our setting for the ritual sacrifice... Continue Reading →

Beauty and the Beast

The crowd held its breath. The chants of 'Julio Cesar' had died down. The Chilean, Gonzalo Jara, placed the ball on the penalty spot – stamping down on the turf before walking a few yards back – turning, and exhaling. He had to score. Thousands of Brazilians packed into Rua Alzira Brandão held their breath.... Continue Reading →

The Frog and The Lion

This is a story of two halves. One half includes wonderful moments, exquisite skills and the odd hero or two. The other half includes none of these. This is the story of England and France. Born in London to a French mother, I've always felt somewhere in the middle. I've lived in England for the... Continue Reading →

Rua Alzira Brandão

We heard it before we could see it. The piercing horns, the banging drums – a steady rumble – the sounds of Brazilians doing what Brazilian seem to do best – partying - and frenzied support of their national football team. We turned the corner and were greeted by an arch across the road. Through... Continue Reading →

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