World Cup Joys

I am not upset that England lost the world cup charge. Russia and Qatar have never hosted the extravaganza.

Jolly good luck to them. They have deep pockets and that is necessary to lay on a lavish show.

Russia doesn't have a brilliant record on race relations and will need to redouble their efforts to make the country alluring.

Qatar isn't exactly a haven for workers' rights and so that might change.

Sepp Blatter, the president of world football's governing body, has been a recalcitrant bureaucrat on a plethora of issues but sending the tournament into new territories has been his grand flourish.

Earlier this year it was South Africa. In 2018 Russia will have the fun and in 2022 everyone will roast in the Middle East.

A new meaning to the phrase hot tickets.

Gut Feeling

There I was feeling like it was sour grapes. I had been saying in a few blogs that the Eurostar trips were not as punctual as usual. Only once in five trips had the train been on time. Well on Thursday I received an email telling me that Eurostar was tackling this by cutting the service to 50 per cent.

However everything they say will be back to normal on Sunday. This is good as I am supposed to be travelling to London to do some work.

The Eurostar bosses have asked for all non essential travel to be delayed. This always strikes me as bizarre. How many people travel between the cities for non-essential purposes? That would be a fascinating survey.

Obviously somewhere there are lots of non-essential voyages taking place. I would love to get to that position in my life where I could take a non-essential trip.

It is not here yet.

Saturday morning's football match has been deemed non-essential. The opponents phoned our captain this afternoon to tell him that only five of them would be available. Since they are a good team they still might have won.

Since the pitch is booked for 11-1pm we could have a kick around. But the captain has suggested that exertion is a non-essential and has urged his troops to gird their loins for further exploits next week.

As the match was called off at the last minute, we will probably be given a 3-0 forfeit win.

It is quite a handy outcome. I have been invited out to a party tonight and I was going to leave early so that I could get enough sleep to run around in the morning.

I still might leave early to get some sleep.

At my stage of life it is essential.

Monday Feeling

The world's most important match is underway between Barcelona and Real Madrid. I would say that is tripe because the world's most important match takes place when I play on a Saturday.

Obvious really. It is all relative. Do I care more that Barca or Real win more than my own team? Certainly not.

It's wonderful being parochial.

Or at least travelling from Paris to London to see it all on satellite TV.

Suffering For Art II

There is no football on Saturday. But honestly the way the team plays sometimes it is difficult to say there is football when we are actually playing.

To misappropriate Mr Spock: It's not football as we know or understand it.

To that end Saturday will see a training session. A kickabout in which we maintain the rhythm of running around and overrunning the ball.

It has snowed today so it might be a bit chilly. Should be an ideal opportunity to stay tucked up in bed or cosy up on the sofa with my breakfast and Star Trek DVDs.

But if people are prepared to stand and wait to look at a load of pictures, it seems more logical to get up and run around in the cold.

Suffering For Art

A long time ago I went to Giverney with a then girlfriend and toured the house of Claude Monet.

I bought some postcards of plants and bits of water and went completely mad.

"Because of my paparazzi status, I got into the museum with my camera without having to pay.

So you could say I got my Monet for nothing and my clicks for free. Yes Paul is in dire straits .....

That made the trip for me. It was probably the kiss of death for the relationship.

Ho hum. I went to the Monet exhibition at the Grand Palais and felt duty bound to remember the lines. Still remember the girlfriend. Difficult to forget really since we had once bought a house together.

But looking back on it I don't think she ever swore to love me till the end of eternity.

Probably didn't have a chance to vow allegiance because I was too busy seeking corny lines for postcards.

I did not get any postcards from the exhibition today as there were queues.

There was a queue to get in and there were hoards of people looking at the pictures.

It was a sumptuous display.

Almost as good as a certain post card caption.

St Pancras Old Church

Maybe Eurostar should just stop promoting the idea of a timetable. Got into London late - yet again - and went to the St Pancras Old Church to listen in.

It's high stuff there. Incense and the like and some of the old songs. The hymns reminded me of church of my youth before the pews were ripped out and comfy chairs were installed and poorer songs were put in.

One of the blokes in the congregation started telling me a few things about the church after the service had ended. That was kind.

I knew a bit about the history having once walked through the graveyard when I was covering an inquest at St Pancras Coroner's Court as a reporter.

The church looked very foreboding and its proximity to a mortuary, the Hospital for Tropical Diseases and of course the coroner's court imbued it with a vivid lugubriousness.

Fortunately it was jolly inside. And that's what counts.

Network Europe

I obviously haven't been to see a film in London for ages. I was visibly shaken when the lady at the box office told me it was £10.50 to see the feature.

I tried to place the last time I was at the Renoir in Bloomsbury and couldn't remember. I was given a leaflet about becoming a Curzon Cinema member and getting discounts at their lavish outlets at the Mayfair, Chelsea and Richmond cinemas.

It costs £50 a year to get two free tickets and a discounted price of £8.50.

I'd have to go more regularly to appreciate the benefits of that offer. I have been hovering for a few weeks hoping to go and see something at the flicks. But the times haven't coincided well with the finish at work.

But to cut a long story short, I went to see the Social Network, the film all about the Facebook phenomenon. Quite a good film but I didn't think it was worth £10.50.

I am clearly heading to the point where I will only venture out to see the brainless blockbusters and consign myself to waiting for the DVD release of films like last night's.

Seems a pity for an avid cinema goer like me. But the days of heading off to the flicks two or even three times a week would just be financially ruinous were I living in London and that's even with the Curzon's cut-price offer.

But as the film proffered you can go out with your friends firmly ensconced on your sofa.