The End of the Birthday Month

And what a month it was.  From the 2009 Spanish Rioja and Old Triangle Guinness to the Harvey Wallbangers aboard the Southern Cross and on AI's favourite isle, it was a perfectly sweet one that well set the stage for the departure to France a day later. 

All that followed was magnificent, from Payet's opening goal to the 15 Euro Ouigo train to Marseille, the avoidance of the rioting, Tradition and Dreams, the lederhosen Lille rum smuggling, the cote de beouf from Benjamine, Afram Island and the chilean wine of St. Etienne, Chamonix fondue, mist and rain and Refugio showers and fires, bonhomme snow and chat line inventors, border crossings and cable car vistas and rest days, staircase writing in Aosta, spendide balconies and arpette windows, the missed lac blanc and pointe isabelle big mac and multiple encounters with that random American tourist, the second Lyon key and the box of wine loophole and Shakiri's bicycle, you'll never beat the Irish and qui ne sautes pas n'est pas Francais, Joe Hart's epic failures and Icelandic clapping, the lavishness of Monaco and F1 in Provence, Picasso and the search for bouillabaise and the gift of leftover cheese, belgian beer and the Welsh heroics of Robson-Kanu and Sam Vokes, the bateau-mouche beaujolais, and (finally) the end of the fairytale.

For extra good measure, throw in an annual bender week within 24 hours of landing, the three-dock pickup of special guests and late night McNab exploration under a starry sky, the ferrying of yourself home, and the slow return to the office grind that yet promises enough hours in the near future to secure another year.

Today marks the official end, with a return to Niche two years later for a German semi-final against the hosts, and a bottle of fine Chablis.  To celebrate the recent days past and the start of a hopefully grand NS summer to come.  Remember all that?  Ah, rappelles-toi bien.