Wembley

A good game all told. As a Cowboys man myself, I didn't really mind who won, but as I'd read good things about the relationship between the Saints and their home city of New Orleans after Katrina, I decided that such partisan support that I could muster should be bestowed with magnanimity upon them, technically the home team.


Obligatory picture of Totteridge & Whetstone Station

I will write a little more about the evening tomorrow when it is not quite so late, but here ( behind the cut are a few photomagraphs: )

Wembley

A good game all told. As a Cowboys man myself, I didn't really mind who won, but as I'd read good things about the relationship between the Saints and their home city of New Orleans after Katrina, I decided that such partisan support that I could muster should be bestowed with magnanimity upon them, technically the home team.


Obligatory picture of Totteridge & Whetstone Station

I will write a little more about the evening tomorrow when it is not quite so late, but here ( behind the cut are a few photomagraphs: )

Sunday's travails and travels in depth

So anyway, now I’m more awake, the story of the trip to Wembley. I say story, but that makes it sound rather more interesting than it really is. I shall relate the events that are not the game since anyone interested was either there, watched it on TV or has read the match reports in the paper or internet.

The morning and early afternoon the weather was, of course, wet and cold. That’s pretty much the combination that ruined last year’s spectacle, so I was a little worried. However, by the time of the game itself, the sky had cleared and the rain stopped. Of course, this meant that the temperature plummeted. The trip to Wembley stadium was reasonably uneventful – Northern Line to King’s Cross, change and then Metropolitan Line to Wembley Park. It’s a bit of a bind doing it that way when the stadium is only about 5 miles away from the Carpathia, but using the Tube all I have to do is invest time rather than money since my Oyster Card covers the relevant zones. The train filled somewhat at Baker Street and the asian girl standing just in front of me was clearly put out at having to share the carriage with well, anybody, it seemed. She had an iPod-alike and was trying to watch a TV show on it. The combination of carriage jolting, unintentional jostling and crowding caused here to huff and puff as if the entire thing was a personal insult. Maybe it was: the entire game was scheduled just to interfere with her personal time table.

No sympathy.

( It goes on a bit )

Sunday's travails and travels in depth

So anyway, now I’m more awake, the story of the trip to Wembley. I say story, but that makes it sound rather more interesting than it really is. I shall relate the events that are not the game since anyone interested was either there, watched it on TV or has read the match reports in the paper or internet.

The morning and early afternoon the weather was, of course, wet and cold. That’s pretty much the combination that ruined last year’s spectacle, so I was a little worried. However, by the time of the game itself, the sky had cleared and the rain stopped. Of course, this meant that the temperature plummeted. The trip to Wembley stadium was reasonably uneventful – Northern Line to King’s Cross, change and then Metropolitan Line to Wembley Park. It’s a bit of a bind doing it that way when the stadium is only about 5 miles away from the Carpathia, but using the Tube all I have to do is invest time rather than money since my Oyster Card covers the relevant zones. The train filled somewhat at Baker Street and the asian girl standing just in front of me was clearly put out at having to share the carriage with well, anybody, it seemed. She had an iPod-alike and was trying to watch a TV show on it. The combination of carriage jolting, unintentional jostling and crowding caused here to huff and puff as if the entire thing was a personal insult. Maybe it was: the entire game was scheduled just to interfere with her personal time table.

No sympathy.

( It goes on a bit )