A Typical World Cup Week

This was due to be one of the best weeks of my life: tickets to my first two England games, in a Brazilian World Cup. Coming off the back a promising opening performance, I was genuinely of the belief that we would qualify. What followed was something that I could never have contemplated.

I arrived in São Paulo nervous, but excited. The beers were flowing, I was interviewed by a couple of Brazilian TV networks and got involved with the first-rate England support. My favourite chant was probably "you're just a s*** Argentina", which amused me, but bemused the Uruguayans, who seemed to believe that we had simply mistaken their nationality. The only downside to the morning was the bitterly cold weather. In my haste, and perhaps my English stubbornness, I had left the house in just shorts and a t-shirt, completely underestimating the 8 degree cold.

in high spirits before kick off

I needn't harp on about the game. Suffice to say, the other team had a cannibalistic, rat-like and unfortunately rather talented striker, that we simply did not. The taunts of unsympathetic Brazilians did nothing to better my mood and it's fair to say that the 6 hour bus journey back to Rio was one of the year abroad's low points: hungover, freezing cold and utterly gutted.

Fortunately, the weekend provided the perfect pick-me-up, in the form of a night in a 5-star hotel and a trip to the hospitality section of the Maracanã. Under the guise of a Portuguese-Russian translator, it was also the first time my degree combination has actually made any sense. Getting back into the Russian was difficult after a 4 and a half month absence, but I got by just fine and the friendly Muscovites for whom I was working once again served to banish the ludicrous stereotype that Russians can be cold or unfriendly. One of them did look like a bear though...

there are worse free seats...

Before long, it was off to Belo Horizonte for England's first World Cup dead rubber in many a year. Clear blue skies and a burning sun set the scene for one of the worst games of football I've ever sat through. Drab would be a kind adjective to describe it. However, safe in the knowledge that we were already out, the mood with the fans was far more enjoyable that the previous week. Our singing for hours after the game will have taught the Brazilian onlookers what it really means to support your team. Trees were climbed, chairs were broken and locals were deafened as we well and truly made our mark. Tremendous fun.

The other highlight of Belo Horizonte was the chance to experience Brazilian hospitality at its finest. My local friend, Washington, insisted on showing me around the city and his friend, Charles gave myself and a mate a place to stay. It was a very kind gesture and certainly made our short stay in Belo Horizonte worthwhile. Supposedly boasting the most bars per capita in the world, the city certainly had its charm, cracking views and apparently a love of building things. Everywhere we went, new high-rises were under construction, giving the impression that this city is literally on the up.

Belo Horizonte = Beautiful Horizon

I boarded that 6 hour bus in far higher spirits than the previous week. England are gone, sadly. But on the bright side, we are only just coming to the end of the group stages and the best part of the Copa is upon us. If the first half was that good, then I can only dream what the second half will be like...