We run to a market and grab some AirBnBeers. We go for a selection of local beers from Yorkshire to try out. The Monty Python Holy Grail is from here? I like to take pics of the chip sections of other countries. I don’t expect England to have crazy flavors like the hotpot chips from Taiwan… but it does. It has whole meals as flavors of chips:
- Peking Spare Rib
- Chipotle BBQ Pulled Pork
- Steak Ale & Caramelized Onion
- Teriyaki Chicken
- Spicy and aromatic curry
- Lamb and mint
- Prawn cocktail
We run into a small hassle at the self check out since Peter’s credit card is American and he needs to sign for it, which they no longer do here. “I don’t think you can use that”, “I used it here just 3 weeks ago”, “I’ll get a manager”, manager “I don’t think it’ll work”, “I just have to sign for it. I’m not making this up”
We get checked into our AirBnB. The owners name is Mick, he lives in the attached house. Their kids have moved on, got significant others and places of their own. It was the kids idea to reno the old rooms into rentals and it’s been doing really well. Mick gives us the tour. It’s a simple place but should be all we need. Basically a loft w 2 beds a kitchenette and bathroom.
We watch the France / Uruguay game and chill w some local beers. Shit game really, not much happens. boooooooring!
For the next game we head down to Travelers, or the Trav as they’ve been calling it. Adam described it as a real dive bar. Doesn’t seem that way to me, or maybe I’m just used to dive bars like the Dirty Bird or places with peanut shells on the ground. This seems like an old school English Pub. When we walk in Belgium scores immediately. Oh no its an own goal by Brazil off of a corner kick.
We grab 3 pints and get a section all to ourselves. That’s funny, everyone is crowded around the tv by the door but there’s a whole empty area over here
This Belgium / Brazil game is much better. Belgium is looking good. The second Belgium goal is great, picks the side of the net just behind the defender and out of reach of the keeper. “Well that’s one shot and 2 goals”, “They’ve got a 200% conversion rate!”
Some kids come in and start running around the area we’re in. Adam explains that in traditional English pubs, kids are allowed in the lounge and there is usually an adult only section too. Ahhh maybe that’s why this was empty.
“So we talked to your mom for 4 hours before you got up this morning”, “Oh man, I’m so so sorry”, “No, no it was great! I didn’t get her name though”, “It’s Mandy”.
I run to the bathroom. It’s just a wall to piss against with a trough in the ground, like peeing in a ditch. A guy next to me in a striped v-neck gets one look and is amazed, “You’ve got the curliest hair in the world”, I’m not sure if I’m getting hit on or not, “Haha thanks, I’ve been working on it”, “Well it’s working out great!”, “Thank you.” I walk out and he’s still tinkling. I tell the guys about it and Adam says, “Was he talking about up there or down there?” Hahaha better get another round.
In the room next to us a group of older gentleman are watching Rugby League. Adam says this is form of rugby that originated in Northern England. The rules are slightly different than traditional rugby. There are a different amount of players, less scrums, and overall it seems a lot faster. Actually it seems like it never stops. These guys are really into it. We watch for a bit.
Ok Rugby League is legit tough as fuck. It does not stop. These guys are beasts. Just tree trunks with legs. We just watched a guy get tackled, take two intentional elbows to the face, a knee to the back of the head, and then the heel studs to his forehead, and he just gets up, rolls the ball behind to the next guy and it continues into the next tackle. Enough of this fancy world cup stuff, Rugby League is where it’s at.
It’s the Wigan Warriors vs the Warrington Wolfs. I’m starting to get the rules as we watch. It’s basically speed rugby. Warrington scores a tri right in the corner. Only 3 minutes left. This could win it. Wigan is making their way back down the field. They go for a tough kick in the last 15 seconds. It’s over! Wigan wins. What a game. Down to the last second.
We head back to Adam’s place and Mandy makes me a gin and tonic. “I just found out your name is Mandy”, “Well actually it’s Amanda and people just started calling me Mandy”, “Well I’m not actually a Jon, my name is Jonathan”, “Do you want a coronation chicken”, “Coronation chicken What’s that?”, “Like, a chicken salad”, “Sure.”
After another drink or two we decide it’s time to head off to a bar. Peter and I say goodnight to Adam and Mandy and grab a cab to downtown Wakefield. It’s after midnight at this point but all of the bars are open until 4am so lots of time to tear it up.