… last night saying something about going to bed early meaning waking up early and how I wasn’t hoping for another 04:45 start or whatever time it was.
And I was right too.
03:35 is certainly different. I can see that there’s nothing really to be gained by having an early night. It simply means that I have an early start.
Not so early though that I didn’t have time to go on a nocturnal ramble though. I was visiting a big city and was staying in a hotel well outside – so much so that we had to take a bus to the railway terminus. We piled on board and more and more people joined us as we made the tour around the hotels. And then a long drive to the railway station. We all alighted and people then went to change their money – one girl changed an enormous wad of €20 notes. I then got back onto the bus, which now had just half a dozen people on it, and we headed off elsewhere. It suddenly occurred to me that I shouldn’t be on the bus but on the train, so I dashed down to the front of the bus. The driver pulled up at another railway station and explained to me that there were two routes that I could take from here into the city, and how I had actually stolen a march on my comrades. It was then that I realised that I was actually on the south-western edge of London, and that was where I was headed.
But there was no danger whatever of my leaving the bed at that kind of silly hour of the morning. I did manage to go back to sleep where I stayed until all of about 07:30.
But that was my lot. By 07:45 I was actually out of bed and working.
I was pushing on with dealing with all of the photos that have built up over the week, but I couldn’t keep it up.
Never mind having a crash out in the chair – by 10:15 I was flat out on the bed underneath the bedclothes and there I remained until 12:15. Now THAT’s a Sunday lie-in!
Once I was back in the Land of the Living I had another hour or so on the photos and then stopped for lunch.
After lunch, I headed off the Bréhal for the match between La Bréhalaise (in blue) and AS Folligny.
Manche District 3rd Division so I wasn’t expecting much in the way of skill, but I was pleasantly surprised.
It’s not Premier League but at least there was plenty of effort and the players did what they could.
And I do have to say that the standard of football seems to be higher than in the Auvergne, that’s for sure.
Folligny are up at the top of the table and La Bréhalaise near the bottom, and it’s certainly true that the home keeper was by far the busiest of the two.
But the match hinged on a moment of magic from the La Bréhalaise n°10 who beat three men down the right wing with apparent ease, crossed into the centre where a beautiful shot from one of the attackers beat the Folligny goalkeeper, who had up to that point been a spectator.
The n°10 played a strange game. Much of the time he was invisible – drifting in and out of the gale – but occasionally he could certainly pull something special out of the hat.
We had a couple of bad-tempered moments out there and the referee, who looked as if he might be new, wasn’t quite sure of himself. But it all passed on quite well to the end of the game. And Folligny can feel disappointed about going home with nothing.
Back here I added some photos to a few of the pages from last week. You can see them by going here and working forward.
Tea was a vegan pizza and then a walk around the Pointe du Roc in the wind. But it’s not as windy as it has been for the last few days.
And now I’ll try once again for an early night and a decent sleep.
