The Beautiful Game

The World Cup is all about preparation. A successful tournament boils down to more than the performances on the pitch. And I’m not talking about the players. Here in London, the general population has been gearing up for months:

• Need a new TV? No problem. Toshiba will sell you a new flat-screen, with the added incentive that you get it free if England win the World Cup!

• Planning a footie party? Then drop into Tesco, the “Official Supermarket” of the World Cup, who have a multitude of offers on BBQ food, beer and South African wine.

• Pizza Express, the darling of the English middle class, is in on the act too. 2-for-1 pizzas, whether it’s for football-and-pizza-take-out or no-football-eat-in.

If you’re more of a saver than a spender, fear not:

• Nationwide, the major England sponsor, are offering a 4-Year Football Bond, with a 0.5% bonus if England win in South Africa

So welcome to London. For the month or so, all Englishmen (and many women) will forego rational thought. Our British reserve and our stiff upper lip will desert us. We will rediscover patriotism, talk to strangers on the Tube and blub like babies whether Wayne Rooney scores or sees red.

The FIFA 2010 Football World Cup has teams from 32 countries. And London is most definitely the definition of a global city. So I’m going to put away my England underpants in 2010 and focus my attentions on the smaller, less well-represented nations:

• Where in London can Paraguayans watch Roque Santa Cruz and eat tapas?

• Where is London’s biggest Korean community?

• Can you eat Ghanaian food and watch them at football at the same time?

• Will Slovenia, Slovakia or Serbia make it through the group stages?

It'll be a blast!

As long as we don't go out on penalties. Again.

Singin' in the Rain

I checked into the Broadway hotel. 1/6 of the price and no free nightclub.

I took my camera and walked down the hill to Iew Duh, where the Khasi tribespeople have a "colourful and lively" (Lonely Planet) market. It began to rain almost immediately. I had forgotten my umbrella.

The rain wasn't too bad. I joined some people huddling in front of a pharmacy. There I had a conversation with a young lady about my husband, job and age. Her teeth were stained red from chewing betel nut leaves.

Then the hail began. The hailstones were big. They bounced off the cars and hurt when they hit me. I kept my camera dry by holding my shirt over it. The market itself was now a flowing stream of water and rubbish. It was impossible to move between the people and umbrellas.

I waited for my writer's mind to kick in. That's the part that says "Oh, what I horrible time I'm having. Fantastic! It'll make great copy!". This is because everybody loves reading about somebody else's misfortune. It didn't kick in, but then perhaps it was just damp.

I walked back to the Broadway Hotel. It took 30 mins and the rain didn't stop. When I arrived, I bought some chocolate, dried myself off, switched on the television and climbed under the quilt. Then I shivered for an hour.

Shillong is in an Indian state called Meghalaya. This translates as "Abode of Clouds". A place called Mawsynram is also in Meghalaya. Mawsynram is also in the Guinness Book of Records - for being the wettest place on earth.

So now the "Scotland" comparison makes sense. And it's Hill Stations 3 Louise 0.

(On the television, incidentally, it was West Brom 0, Portsmouth 1. Play up Pompey!)

Words and Pictures © Louise Heal 2008