The long shlep back
I can't remember if I've slept twelve hours before but tonight I did.
It's Sunday, so beach busy and we felt beach weary.
I cycled into the village and bought half a dozen oysters, a dozen crevettes and a lemon sole. The church bells rang midday and I thought I might catch the beginning of the match in a café. I chose L'Escasse because the beer is cheap and the screen is big and asked a waiter if they were showing the game.
'What game?'
'The cup Final'
'Of what?'
'Football'
He obliged me by turning the big screen on and bringing me a cheap beer.
I watched the first half solo, bar four androgynous Dutch children who were openly supporting Spain (I praised myself for understanding that much Dutch).
I winced audibly when Spain scored and cycled home at half time.
Football's not coming home.
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