Perhaps it's a blessing in disguise. A woman at work has advertised two tickets available for tomorrow. I email her, find that the tickets are available, and the deal is done. Gary, a new work mate, says he fancies taking the other ticket. Sorted!
At lunchtime, some of us leave the office and stroll down to Lambton Quay, the main shopping street through the centre of Wellington. We're going to watch the traditional parade - the teams are driven slowly through Wellington on a succession of floats, cheered on by an enthusiastic crowd. I cheer all the British home nations. I cheer the Kiwis. I cheer the Cook Islands and Kenya and South Africa. I fact, I cheer all the teams. But mainly England.
The crowds are large and the pavements are packed. It's a good-natured affair, partly because of the weather (hot and sunny, as usual) and the teams throwing foam toys and sweets out into the crowds. A miniature foam rugby ball flies towards me and I catch it casually. A bite-sized Moro chocolate bar arcs overhead, and I noncholantly pluck it from the air. Another one hits me in the chest. Not so noncholant, but I pick it up nevertheless.
Each of the floats has some kind of 'performance' walking along in front, but England has the best one. Austin Powers is dancing to some appropriate music, and he's the man! He has all the moves, and the crowd loves it.
Back at the office, Gary and I are wrestling with ideas about possible fancy dress. It's difficult at such short notice, and all of the fancy dress shops for miles around have been cleaned out. But we're rescued by an angel called Michelle. Michelle is a colleague, and is also very keen on amateur dramatics. We can pick something from her local theatrical society's costume department. This is all coming together rather well!
After work, back in my room, I watch the evening's matches on TV. At least half of the coverage is shots of the crowd, and it looks like a huge party. I can't wait until tomorrow!
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