After arriving in Japan tired, ticketless and homeless, I was immediately buoyed by learning that the French had been beaten by Senegal. From that moment on started an eighteen day rollercoaster ride of Japanese culture and a feast of football that is the World Cup.

Fast forwarding two weeks from my arrival, the England bug has found it’s way into my system after managing to see two out of the three England games – but would I get to Saturday night’s match against Denmark?

After travelling to Niigata on a wing and a prayer (aided by the bullet train), I set off to watch the Germany v Paraguay game. After some stereotypically drab play I was grateful for half time, but I was becoming increasing restless with my lack of ticket.

I hit the streets armed with my trusty “Any spare tickets?” sign, which had been so successful at the Nigeria game.

After encountering some outrageous tout prices I chanced upon a man who asked me if I was prepared to buy his mate’s Category One ticket for face value. After spending silly money on the Sweden and Nigeria games the Gods had finally smiled on me. I couldn’t get the money out of my wallet fast enough.

On a high parallel with anything Pink Floyd could have reached in their heyday, I set off to the stadium.

What followed was one big party – from the moment I entered the stadium and long into the night aterwards. After Rio scored the first goal, ‘The Engerlund’ were never seriously threatened, every goal greeted with yours truly running up and down the aisles with England flag raised aloft. We reached half time and after a quick bar stop the party could resume.

With the game already sewn-up in the second half, the chants of “Let’s all have a disco, Let’s all have a disco” became harder to ignore, thus we conga-d up and down the aisles, and joined by both English and Japanese we dodged the stewards to party away the rest of the match.

The partying continued until the early hours, with both the Danes and the English in arms (to the chants of “We love your bacon, we do”!), in downtown Niigata.

Very tired but still elated I made my way to the station to catch the 7 ‘o’ clock train back to Tokyo.

This was one of the best nights of my life – the atmosphere and the result both perfect – I’m just gutted to now be in Australia, and missing the opportunity to watch England v Brazil on Friday. Still the wallet and the bank balance will be very happy about that.

All for now – Good Luck to Everyone (except maybe the Brazilians and the Germans)

Wonder how much a plane ticket to Japan costs?

Sad news today… the internet cafes which helped us create and maintain this site in China are closed or about to close as a result of a fire in a PC bar in Beijing. So I guess this’ll be one of the last messages I can get through to all the good people we met in the “People’s” Republic. See you on the other side of the firewall, my friends…

Read the BBC news report here, or if you live in China (where the BBC’s site is blocked) email me and I’ll send you a copy.

Of course, being English we have a head start on the rest of the world , having had a major scrap with most people at one time or another, and we haven’t even had a home fixture since 1066 (if you don’t count the friendly with the Dutch in 1688). Clearly amongst our European cousins it is an easy task, with WWII taking most of the credit. Other continents are trickier. Don’t worry about how long ago it was though, you can still scream obscenities at the South Africans and call them Boer, or defend our rights to sell opium to the Chinese squad. If you struggle to think of ways to hate the Costa Ricans, fall back on their former colonial power. See how easy it is?

There are always fixtures that, despite having no obvious bearing on our Brave Young Lions’ chances, bring out the mischievous in us. If Japan play the USA, will they kick off earlier than expected and the Septics find themselves 2-0 down as they get off the bus? What of Germany v. Paraguay? Was there a rash of long lost relations reacquainting themselves with each other? The possibilities are vast. If the Japanese play their co-hosts, who will provide the comfort women at half time? Hurry though, because we are running out of time and we don’t want to miss a chance like this as it only comes around once in every four years.

It was a warm evening in Hagzhou last night as I set out to get some measure of China’s reaction to the World Cup opening in this scenic town two hours South of Shanghai. The lake around which the town was built has inspired many great Chinese poets and writers over the years – would it have inspired a similar fondness for football?

Wandering into the main square in the centre of town, I see a crowd of around 500 people gathered around a huge video screen. The setting is beautiful: to the left of the screen, high up on the hills, is the illuminated temple of Lingyin Si. Amongst the fountains and gardens, 500 faces all turn towards one moving image. I look too, and realise that they are not watching France vs Senegal, but a gig by some Chinese pop idols.

I move on to the busy dining district of the town, and emanating from a bar I can hear enthusiastic cheering and shouting. I walk past the crowd of door greeters, who all follow me into the bar, and through an ante-room. There in a large room at the back sit around 100 lively customers at tables, drinking Jasmine tea. It is them that are cheering, their attention focussed on the centre of the room. Moving through the crowd to get a better view. I expect to find a television set showing the game, but there, sitting on low stools, are four slightly glum looking musicians playing traditional instruments.

I leave and at the end of the street spot a football-themed bar. All of the staff are dressed in China team kit and the walls are adorned with pictures of football players. Footballs are suspended in nets above the bar. I order a beer and look around. There is a bank of television screens. Is anyone here watching the football? No – they are all playing a dice gambling game whilst trashy music emanates from the stage.

Heading back to the hotel, I pass a small bar on a corner. It is almost deserted, but five men sit in rapt attention watching a small screen. This noble band of supporters was the only evidence I found of any interest in the World Cup here last night. I ask them what they think of the game so far and they nod their heads energetically and say “We like World Cup. Beckham, Beckham”.

As an aside to our trip, but of significant consequence to it, I’d like to mention the Football Fan’s Union and their campaign to ‘Can the Commercials‘. It seems that as many as 30 English football clubs face ruin because the Football League are owed UKP178.5million by ITV Digital. So if you watch the Opening Ceremony in England, don’t watch the adverts, but do go to the site and register your support. Simple as that.