So yesterday afternoon I watched England bat and actually win a match. I got talking with a bloke who seemed to know a lot more about the sport than I (this isn't hard!) and it turns out he's semi-pro, having once had a trial for his home county.
Yesterday evening, he and I and some other bods met up for a meal and then decamped to a bar on the beach, where he went on and on about how he was going to do irreparable damage to someone here who'd ripped him off. I agree with his desire not to let 'get away with it' but there was no convincing him that there are better ways than wrapping his bat around the ripper's head. I think it was the vodka talking but I have no idea how to warn the ripper to be ready with this chap's money if the cricketer turns out to be serious about it. (The cricketer did say that if he got his money back, he'd leave the ripper alone.) However, the cries of 'bullshit' and 'you're full of shite' from the irishwomen across the table made a vaguely amusing game of argument-tennis.
I could go and sit in a bar and watch Australia polish off the first test against Bangladesh but since they only needed to get 95 runs today, it's very likely to be over. So time for me and a book to meet the beach.
I ate in a beach-side restaurant where a family were having difficulty with their cameras so I volunteered to photograph them, then email them the pix. Londoners can be very vibrant!
© (except the blatantly ripped-off bits) Random Bozo 2006