9.00 am was the set time for the bus to leave Cheltenham and twelve hardy souls boarded en route for the pleasure palaces of Cardiff. Jill and Vee took the "teacher" seats at the front while the "bad boy" seats at the back were bagged by Taff, Gavin and assorted miscreants. The overall view was that it would be a Welsh win but the points difference was in much debate. As we approached the Severn bridge there was bright sunshine (yes, amazing) and the flooded Gwent levels gave the appearance of a snowy wilderness so bright was the sun. But the rain would come soon enough, we knew. it's like that in Wales.
Lunch was taken at the Traders Tavern, a "proper" Cardiff pub with atmosphere. I was asked if Dave's curry should be served "`alf and `alf" in proper Cardiffian fashion. The ladies shopped while the menfolk had a beer and swapped stories of happy times spent supporting the national team. The party was greatly improved by the arrival of Mike Inkpen and his "lucky" Welsh rugby scarf. This scarf hasn't seen the inside of a washing machine since Gareth Edwards turned out for Gwaen-Cae-Gurwen under 9's but it is now almost as much of the party as is Inky. It's certainly had as much beer poured down it. Then on to the stadium through streets packed with red-shirted, dragon-painted hordes. Wales were poor and just managed a win so we'll need to pull out the collective fingers to match the intensity that both England and France showed in Paris.
The excellent France v England game was watched on TV in a packed Traders Tavern with each French score sparking the communal singing of La Marseilliase.
The bus delivered us safely back to Montpellier at a reasonable hour. The blurred effect is partly due to poor camera-ship and partly to protect innocent parties falling off the bus. Another lovely day out in Cardiff with very dear old friends. Thanks to Martyn for organising the bus, to Taff Powell for the tickets and Rupes for picking us up at the end of the day.
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