Streaking and war dances? Just another rugby match in Wales

Having never seen a rugby game, except for a TV match (where the entertainment was much more in the direction of watching the Irish fans holler indistinguishable curse words and slosh their Guinness) PAB and I decided to take the plunge and book a seat at a match at the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff. We found reasonable tickets for Wales v. Samoa, an interesting game as Wales is damn good, and Samoa is, well...damn BIG.

We took the train in from Bristol (it's impossible to park in Cardiff on rugby night as all the streets are closed off for pre/post-game mayhem), apparently some fans consider the train an opportunity for tailgating (even one fan proudly holding his Carlsberg in one hand and his two year old son in the other). Cardiff was absolutely mad, people had horns and were waving Welsh flags in the street (particularly menacing with their giant dragon) The girls were wearing inflatable daffodils around their head. And the men were menacing what looked like a palm tree (though PAB kindly informed me they were actually waving LEEKS, the national veggie of Wales!!) Check out the picture at top! For awhile I was laughing at myself, thinking oh how ridiculous these Welsh people are. Then I thought about what the Welsh would think if they went to a Greenbay game only to find people walking around with giant blocks of CHEESE on their heads. That shut up my laughter quick ;)

Before the match started, the Samoans did a traditional dance of intimidation - the Haka. Which looks a bit like this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQ-NyW4PTtw

The dance may look a bit silly, but surely more the stuff of men than daffodils and leeks...

The game was GREAT, though it will never replace American football for me. I don't quite understand everything that's going on, but I do quite like when they stomp on each other's heads like the Italians stomp grapes for wine. And, just to make up for the fact that there wasn't a halftime show, a STREAKER ran out into the middle of the field. I don't know what it is with the British and taking their clothes off at sports games, but the refs were prepared. Perhaps they're all ex-rugby players (or just wish they were...) but before the streaker even got to the 10 yard line - WHAM! Tackled from the side by a ref. Serious stuff this rugby!

Next up is soccer (aka football) although I don't know how soccer can live up to war dancing and streaking...

All the world's a stage (especially in England)

A little update on life in England. It is becoming more difficult to find occasions to update my blog, the British lifestyle is becoming more and more "normal". Which I suppose is a good sign (though my family may disagree). I am settling in to "real life" in Bristol, the 9-5 work week and free weekends without forced reading.

One thing, however, that does remind me that I'm in England is good ol' Willy Shakespeare.

PAB and I have a "give and take" system which works quite well with our respective interests - I accompany him to such grand amusements as the A380 landing in Filton, and the Royal International Air Tattoo, and he is dragged along to see the Bard in every way his work can be seen. Last year we saw Twelfth Night performed as a German cabaret in a pub called the Bierkeller (that normally specialises in Heavy Rock as opposed to verse). What's amazing is the quality of Shakespearean actors in the UK; even those who perform in pubs would knock the pants off American actors.

PAB and I also had the good fortune (or at least I did, lol) to visit Shakespeare's birthplace with two friends (both aeronautic engineers, not sure how they got suckered in...) Stratford-Upon-Avon is a darling town (pictures above!), even the McDonalds is in a building predating the 18th century :) We saw "As You Like It" by the Royal Shakespeare Company. The setting and props were extravagant (they even skinned a real rabbit onstage, still unsure of how that pertains to the play, but certainly got the attention of the few unfortunate children in the audience) and the acting the best I have seen. Shakespeare is not something I enjoy reading, but to hear it is another story. I have tried writing sonnets in iambic pentameter and have struggled to get through that, I can hardly imagine setting out an entire play in the bloody thing (see "bloody", told you I was becoming English!)

Yesterday for Halloween we joined the 50+ set in attending "A Winter's Tale" at Berkeley castle. The play was in the great hall, lit by fireworks and chandeliers, portraits of the Berkeley family looming down on you with their large collars (similar to the cones dogs wear) and double chins. It was really quite a surreal experience, especially since the seats were practically in the middle of the stage, so close that the actors had to step around PAB and my rather long legs. Halloween was a perfect setting as well, the castle comes with it's own spooky legend of the assassination of Edward the II in the dungeons.

It is really quite incredible to think that Berkeley castle is still inhabited (by, you guessed it, the Berkeley family). The idea of modern day aristocrats living off their inheritance, and now tourism, seems like it belongs more in Jane Austen than in 21st century South Gloucestershire. Even more bizarre is that these Berkeleys, as descendants of "royal" blood, have a seat in the House of Lords, a chamber of Parliament composed entirely of Dukes and Barons who have the final say on laws passed through the House of Commons (yes, like commoners). It baffles the mind that this kind of aristocracy still exists in any form, one would have thought that the Jacobin head cutting across the channel would have scared the English bourgeois enough to hand over their political power and retire quietly to their country estates.

PAB and I do partake of the less refined British amusements (ie pubs) but that's not always something to write home about ;)