My friend Steve once told me while drunk about his keen sense of navigation. “I get it from my mum”, he said. “She had a really bad sense of direction, but she could run really fast. So basically, I just keep running until I see somewhere I recognise.” That same night he ran halfway to Ancoats, convinced he was going south. My exploits today make Steve that night look more like a swallow heading south.
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My time in Singapore couldn’t have finished in much a better way. As a special treat, Alan took me over to the Penny Black, a Victorian-style English pub, with real ale from the tap which was bested only by the plasma screens showing Liverpool and Chelsea’s FA Cup semi-final live. The pub turns into the local Liverpool clubhouse whenever they play and you couldn’t move for fans in red shirts chanting and singing. Knowledge of “You’ll Never Walk Alone” and “Ring of Fire” were practically requirements to get in the door. Watching football with other fans after such a long absence (we’re talking Euro 2004 with a few English ex-pats) felt great, especially as we managed to hang on for the win. I think Alan might have been worried that I was having withdrawal symptoms from Japan, so to celebrate the result, we went on to another place for a bit of karaoke.
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