TWO!

photo by Carol

Four years ago Francois, a local pig farmer, and Andy, a local English teacher, pooled their resources and a state of the art video projector was temporarily installed in the art of a state barn on the edge of the village for the 2006 Football World Cup.

Anyone, and everyone, was invited to wander up at match time, sit back and relax on a bail of hay or moth eaten armchair and watch the unfolding drama.

At the very beginning it was mainly the “anyones”, those passionate enough to sit through Trinidad’s nil-nil result with Sweden.

I often found myself alone with Mario.

But as the competition progressed, and as the French team stepped out of their stupor, someone had the bright idea to set up a barbeque outside; Francois slaughtered the fatted pig and someone dragged a fridge up the hill, which we filled with beer and orange juice.

Word spread among the neighbouring villages, old friends not seen since Christmas emerged and some people even got dressed up, and a few brought hunting horns.

Soon Mario and I were squashed in with just about everyone from the village, and their aunt.

I had to leave before the quarter finals as Krissie had gone to work in Seattle for three months (repeated in 2008) and I had promised to fly over and join her and bring the kids; the flight was booked the day Germany (the hosts) were due to meet Argentina (the best team in the competition), and I would probably be too jet lagged to see Brazil and France meet the following day - the first time since France had triumphed over them in the 1998 final in Paris.

I would miss these (momentous?) moments.

It’s a long and painful story and I didn’t do it on purpose but in the end I missed the flight and was stranded in Paris for three days where I fell asleep from emotional exhaustion in a hotel room as Argentina stumbled out of the competition.

But every long and painful story has a silver lining, and if you can't watch the rest of the matches among friends and grilled pork in a falling down barn where could be better than....?

The three of us watched The Brazil/France encounter in a small restaurant on the left bank of the river Seine.

The restaurant was packed when we arrived and the only table was on the outside terrace, but by cricking our necks we could see a reflection of the television screen in a polished glass door that lead to the street. It meant everything we watched was backwards to reality, but hey, we got to see the game.

I had never been in a capital city when the national team won an (important?) event before and the safety of a restaurant in a side street is a good vantage point.

But to really experience the uniqueness of the event you have to walk onto the main streets.

I had never stood in a fountain with so many people before either.