We declined to go to the village cremation ceremony and instead caught the 11am Perama bus to Padang Bai. At first we thought we were going on a small bemo-type bus but they soon transferred us to a larger one. Padang Bai was a very small fishing village that existed mainly because the ferries docked there. We booked into a small place, a double room for the married couple and a single for me, for the bargain price of 14,000rp.
Beth wasn't feeling too well - couldn't leave the proximity of the loo - so Oz and I ventured through the hordes of cockerels, along the front, down a dodgy side alley, past the rubbish, around the pigs and cow, by even more chickens, over the hill and on to the beach. It was quite secluded and on a sunny day we could have spent a good few hours there. But it was threatening rain, windy and the sea was rough so we contented ourselves with walking over the solidified lava - or was it slag - and looking at the rockpools and the blow holes.
Back at our rooms, a couple we had noticed at Ubud had arrived. Adam and Sian were from Wales and had been married almost a year. They had left Britain on the same Virgin Atlantic flight as us but 1 day later. They'd travelled across the USA, to NZ, and then been working in Sydney. They'd travelled Aus by virtually the same route as us but by car and tent and then flown out from Darwin on the same flight. Sian had been at college in Nottingham, had worked for Boots and had suffered a slipped disc. It was small world time.
In the evening Beth decided she was well enough to eat so came with us. On our way back to the rooms we saw that someone was watching football on TV. I peered through the window and shouted to Oz "It's English, Neil Webb's playing". The occupant heard and invited us in to watch. It was England v France from Wembley. We won 2-0, the first team to beat the frogs for almost 3 years and with a very B-team type look England should be confident about the European Championships. I remember a similar thing happening last time though, we had high hopes of winning after walking the qualifying group but ended the championship with the worst record of all. Lineker scored his 47th goal for England and Oz woke up half of Bali with his celebrations. I suddenly realised I'd left my hat in the restaurant. I raced back but fortuately the owner had found it and handed it back to me. Phew.
Shearer vs France (Feb 92) by
2012
This is what happened in Euro 92. The usual shambles which is destined to be repeated in Euro2012.
Oz had lived in Nottingham and had worked for Boots. I'd done my disc.
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