The mighty Murrayfield

Arrived back from Glasgow on a train jammed full of scotsman all keen for some serious rugby. From there we joined the mass exodus and waked the 2 miles from the centre of town to the stadium stopping for several pints along the way. This is the tradition- as we wre told and who were we to argue. The atmoshpere was electric and got better and better as we got closer to the park.At one pub we had a "cultural" exchange with a couple of the locals with them teaching us some Scottish phrases and me teaching them some Maori- some being the operative word. End result was that I still can't speak a word of Scots and Tena Katou was more like " tin of cocoa". Their biggest concern was that this was not offensive and a big maori bloke would give him a good smack.
After the game the crowd was very subdued and I suspect the 40-0 score gad something to do with it. It is amazing the effect 64,500 people will have on traffic when they leave the stadium en mass-traffic stopped- end of story.There seemed to be little partying or celebrations going on so we went to a little Sicilian restaurant for dinner where I learnt the hard way how to eat scampi. I was making a complete dogs breakfast of it all when i looked up to see the waiter silently shaking his head. He came over and diplomatically explained how the utensils should be used. Still didn't help though and after lots of hard work & little result I moved on to dessert.
We are half way to getting our bags back- Annie has hers and mine are still probably touring South America.Never mind thanks to travel insurance I have some pretty cool new clothes and the beer is warm & the weather is cold.