RWC Diary: 10th September 2023

I’m up at 6 and somehow don’t seem to want to wake up. It’s hot these days but the sun doesn’t come up till well after 7am which takes some getting used to. I drag myself out of bed and pack for a couple of days. I expected this to be autumny and didn’t pack a lot of Sri Lanka type clothes, so I’m a little light on appropriate clothing. This means I have to wear my All Blacks shirt on a train full of Safas.

Gare D’Lyon, which is one of the main train stations, is about 40 minutes away, so I leave at 745 for the 910am train. Good thing I did because my metro connection station is closed. I can’t change lines so I need to take instructions in French about an alternate route. Fortunately, London has trained me well.

Made it to the train. The French continue to utterly fail at signposting. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not an English-speaking thing, because even the Americans are hopeless at signposting. The ticket doesn’t tell me the Halle or where to go. The destination is not on the screens. Fortunately, a South African fan and I who are equally clueless, manage to figure it out. Damsel-in-distress mode allowed me to spot the crucial information on the ticket.

I was in the last carriage. Can only afford second class travel and the TGV is so huge that it took about 6 minutes to walk from one end of the train to the other. Mad. Sri Lanka is sometimes so small it’s embarrassing but also comforting. The train ride was uneventful, and I stopped for my ritual coffee and croissant near the station and was engaged by two young French lads who’d come in for the game alongside thousands of South African and Scottish supporters. There were 66,000 people at the game out of which about 35,000 would have been South African and about 15,000 Scots. It must be nice to live in economies that allow for this sort of travel including air tickets, accommodation, match tickets and binge drinking. Here I am, trying to manage just the plane fare.

After a nice chat with the boys who were surprised to hear how big rugby is in Sri Lanka (everyone is), I wandered about to my AirBnB. It was not as far as I expected and the bus took me fairly close. Dumped my bags and tried to figure out a way to the Velodrome to pick up my ticket and get in to the stadium. It turned out to be a 40 minute walk as public transport was not too accessible from my double digit per night accommodation. While I was half way through the walk I realised that most of it had been pleasantly downhill. Which meant that walking back was going to be entirely uphill. But that was for later.

Managed to find the Media Entrance after only being directed to three wrong doorways by the helpful, but misinformed volunteers. Sat and wrote a bit in the media enclosure. Somehow the mood is different from Japan. There’s less space, everyone looks rushed and quite edgy.

The game itself was as expected. South Africa constricting Scotland in the first half and then coming out in the second half with unbelievable energy. They knocked the winds out of the Scots in the first ten minutes after half-time and Scotland never recovered. Finn Russell was forced to kick much more than he would have liked and Darcy Graham who generally makes such good decisions squandered Scotland’s only real chance of scoring. Duhan Van Der Merwe never really got the ball, and it was a lesson in defence by the Springboks. It’s not pretty, but it’s effective.

Manie Libbok won man of the match, but was not great off the tee. When it comes to knock-out rugby, these things will come into play. Who is going to get an injury for Handre to come onto the bench?

You can see why this South African team clicks. Siya Kolisi is its spiritual leader, and even the Afrikaaner boys seem to respond to his example. He will admit that he doesn’t always know what to call, and that’s when Vermuelen or Eztebeth, Pollard or Am will come into the rugby side of things. But in keep the team honest, grounded and leading by example he’s as good as they come. South Africa look scarily good, and had a plenty left in the tank after today’s game. Ireland will be a big test, as both teams will look to avoid France in the quarter final.

The walk back was disgusting. Ubers were 35 Euro for a 4km ride, and the road was closed for buses. So an uphill trek it was, with chafing thighs. And then the black cat escaped while I was getting in the door. Spent ten minutes trying to coax it from under the car before the host took pity on me and said she’ll just leave the window open. I’m knackered. And haven’t watched enough rugby.

Can’t say how pissed off I am that Fiji lost that game.