It’s as if thinking about being on the underside of the world will cause me to fall off There isn’t a time that I consciously became aware of my fear of heights. It seems it was always there. But maybe it’s not vertigo. Maybe it’s a fear of falling. A fear of gravity.
Inside the stadium we were whisked skywards on the escalator, up and up to nosebleed territory. The good organisation and forward-planning of the venue yielded us two beers and hot chips (you have to say “hot” here or else you end up with crisps) with maximum efficiency and minimal hassle. Best of all, the consumption
It became clear very quickly, and of course I knew already, that London is not Adelaide, or even Sydney or Melbourne. It wasn’t the swarming crowds, or the multiculturalism or pound shops or even the weather (about the same at the moment). Neither was it the grown, some would say overgrown, men sporting Premier League