The End of the Road Festival, 12-14 September 2008, Larmer Tree Gardens, Dorset

Festivals: General

It is a peculiar quirk of the English psyche – call it optimism, stoicism, delusional or plain eccentricity – that any prospect of sunshine, no matter how vague, must be celebrated out of doors, in a field, throwing shapes or gently swaying to live music.  Because it’s summer, yeah, and the weather is gonna be wik-ked!  Never mind that the chances of extended brilliant warm sunshine during the English summer are, although less slim than Gwyneth Paltrow contributing something of relevance to the average person’s reality, still quite unlikely.  It’s summer, and that means it isn’t spring (grey, with the sort of rain which gets inside your socks and winds gusty enough to turn your umbrella inside out), winter (dark, cold, with winds capable of whipping through your outer layers to your bones) or autumn (shorter chillier days wreathed in misty flumes, bonfire smoke and golden sunshine).

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside

A 48 hour hiatus from 19 days straight and 53 matches of the World Cup means withdrawal shakes and a chance to catch up blog-wise with what I’ve been up to.

London turned on a warm one last Sunday as we headed down to Brighton for Dylan Moran, Terre a Terre and a coma-inducing 90 minutes or so in a crowded pub watching England bore Ecuador into submission. The only amusing incident involved little old Granny, in usual Granny uniform of pale hair, floral dress, grey cardigan and sturdy shoes, jump into the pub, shout out “Eng-er-land!” and do a little shimmy before exiting as abruptly. Bless.

Random World Cup tidbits – part 1

Aah and so endeth the Sweden/England game with a 2-2 draw. And English fans the world over breathe a collective sigh of relief. The English performance still did not convince (from reading the GU and Beeb updates) but at least they won’t be meeting Germany next.

Points of amusement/interest so far World Cup-wise:

• The possibility that English fans are trying to plot a course whereby their team wins the trophy, without actually meeting any first-rate teams (which terrifies them, of course).
• Franz Beckenbauer, once a normal coloured captain of the 1974 World Cup winning West German team and coach of the 1990 World Cup winning West German team, his latest incarnation as chairman of the World Cup 2006 Organising Committee sees him reach dangerously high permatanned levels. Or is it just me?
• Harry Kewell’s outburst at the ref after the Brazil/Oz game. Apparently Mr Kewell repeatedly assaulted the ref with the words ‘effg shit, mate’. Way to go, Harry, with trying to convince the world that Australians can be eloquent. Is it too much to ask for a lttle more creativity, naughty word-wise?
• Tunisian left back Anis Ayari, angry after being substituted off during the Tunisia/Spain match, throwing a plastic cup around, gesticulating, muttering and then attempting to get his shirt off. For 5 mins. With no luck. One only hopes that no one informs him that this was broadcast on BBC1 directly after the match.