So, the day of the World Cup Final dawns and its a France v Italy final. Good for the French and Italians in London but not so exciting for the Brits. Still, its not everyday there is a World Cup Final so we made plans to meet and watch the match anyway. Clearly the pubs weren’t going to be overrun with English supporters so we had no worries about rocking up an hour or so before the match and still grabbing a seat. As a result we had the whole day to find something to do.

The weather was slightly on the dodgy side but we decided a bit of Pitch n Putt wouldn’t go astray. A quick search on google and we had a venue: Queen’s Park. I was surprised to find that Queen’s Park isn’t all that far from home and after about 40-45 minutes of walking (not walking all that fast either as I was on the phone most of the time so was a little distracted) I arrived at the tube station where I met up with Sir Jules and Einstein. The park itself was only a short walk away from the tub.

Having read that the park is about 30 acres I thought finding the Pitch n Putt was going to be a bit tricky but it was actually relatively straightforward. In fact, in combination with the tennis courts it takes up about maybe a quarter of the park so its fairly hard to miss. The course itself is 9 holes with the longest hole being about 80 yards – so not too big. They make it easy to “tee-off” as well as each hole starts on top of a platform and I’m sure that this also saves replacing a lot of grass. Pitch n Putt was great entertainment and its just a shame the course wasn’t a little longer or an 18 hole one as we got through it pretty quick smart – despite not being the greatest golfers – and luckily for the other golfers on the course I didn’t hook/slice the ball too much as usually happens. Scorecards are here.

We thought we were going to be hours out on the course but, due to a combination of our clearly superior skills (ha ha) and size of the actual Pitch n Putt, we ended up finishing in just about an hour and most of that time was waiting for the group in front of us to finish. As a result Einstein thought a bit of practice on the boulles would be good.

After looking for what we thought was a lawn bowl green – what we found instead was a square of dirt. Turns out we were playing Pétanque (ironically a French game) instead. Its kind of like lawn bowls except you sort of toss (instead of roll) metal balls like small shot puts (instead of a bowl) at a small wooden ball, which to my amusement is called a piglet, (instead of a white jack) trying to get as close as possible. Strange game though I’m not sure how long it would keep me entertained on a normal day – even today it kept our attention for, oh, about fifteen minutes. There must be something redeeming about it though as about 17 million people in France apparently play it, most notibly during their summer holidays.

Next stop – something to soothe the beasts in our bellies. Being a Sunday it was the perfect day for a Sunday roast dinner. Sir Jules had found a nice pub for us to try out near Marylebone but unfortunately it was a no food day. Can’t understand why but perhaps some pubs find it easier to serve drinks only on a day like today (being the World Cup Final) or perhaps no food was being served due to there not being that many people around. Still, their loss was another pub’s gain and we found a good pub with a really nice Beef Roast and two TVs to watch the Wimbledon Men’s Singles Final on. Surprisingly after our roast we still had a couple of hours to fill before the final started at seven so it was off for a bit of ten pin bowling at the Trocadero.

Coming out of Picadilly Circus it was clear that the French and Italians were definitely out to enjoy their day of glory. You couldn’t turn anywhere without seeing someone draped in the blue, white and red or the green, white and red and of course there was much singing and chanting. But back to the game later.

The bowling at the Trocadero was okay. The lanes seemed a bit shorter than I’m used to so as Einstein commented it seemed a lot easier to hit the strikes and spares. Well, easy for her to say since she (and Sir Jules) scored well into the 100s. I did get a spare or two I think but still a pretty dismal effort in the light of everyone else’s peformance. I will say something about the bowling at the Trocadero and its that they were playing fab music. Well, for the short period we were there at any rate. A quick stop at the 2p machines, of course, and then it was back to Marylebone to find a pub to watch the final in.

I’m not going to say much about the game itself because it was boooring. Except for that one moment that everyone’s talking about when Zidane head-butted that dude that had seemingly been giving him a nipple cripple. THE funniest moment in the football ever and I’m sure a moment that will be replayed over and over. Yes Italy went on to win the game on penalties and yes, my neighbourhood was celebrating into the wee hours of the morning (much car-honking and I think it was Bolero or something played REALLY REALLY loud.) I was disappointed to see them win but then again at least we Aussies can now say we were beat by the World Cup Champs.