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Wed May 21 2003 (Durban)

I dragged myself out of bed, seriously hung-over and in need of much more sleep. Unfortunately there was something organised for today that I didn't want to miss. The British Council had arranged for volunteer England fans to go along to schools in Durban to promote English football ahead of the game tomorrow and the South African bid for the 2010 World Cup. Emma and Sara had put themselves down for this, I wasn't sure if I'd be in Durban in time so I didn't bother. However, they had been urged to bring along anyone else who is interested so I said I'd tag along.

The plan was for me to get a taxi and pick them up from the Tekweni. However, they hadn't enjoyed their first night there due to environmental factors and had got up early, checked out and bought their bags up to dump in my room. They decided to take the bunks in my room, the owners were fine about it, and it meant my nightly rate was halved so I could live with the sudden explosion of stuff scattered around the room that greeted their arrival. I luv 'em really, but just as nature abhors a vacuum, Emma & Sara do tend to fill any space they occupy with all kinds of crap. I try to keep as much of my stuff as possible inside the pack, they try to spread the entire contents of theirs across as wide an area as possible. Must be some kind of territory marking or something.

The Durban skies were blue and it was damn hot, we caught a Mozzie taxi down to the beach (Mozzies have a plastic hand sticking out of the roof), to a hotel where we'd been told to assemble. This particular hotel had several flag poles sticking out of the first floor. These had been hijacked and were now flying two England flags, one Stoke and one Derby (come on you Rams!). Down there we met Gary Kitching and young Will (his son), who's just turned 7. I've known Gary since Bratislava and he's a top bloke who always presents a positive image of England fans, with Will, to the media. They were staying in one of the Holiday Inns along the beach front and had ended up on the same floor as the South African squad. Will had been having a kick about with Lucas Radebe and Ben Macarthy. Gary is a Sheffield Utd fan, and although Will was wearing a Blades top he was quick to point out that he was a ManU fan and his dad had made him wear it.

There was an open top double decker bus waiting for us but the South African lady organising things told us we had enough time to go to the shop. Us three were feeling pretty rough so we took Will and wandered off to get water and snacks. When we got back the bus was already full, but were told to go with a driver and guide in a car. We gave Will back to his dad and Emma, Sara and I got into the back of the car with our guide, Linda, sitting alongside the driver. We later discovered our driver was actually a teacher from the school we were visiting, we were pretty annoyed that the organiser hadn't told us this as we thought he was just a taxi driver.

After maybe 25 minutes we arrived at New West school and got out into the car park and stood and watched the kids doing sport whilst we waited for the rest of the England fans. We were invited into the principal's office, which we thought was a bit strange as there were only 6 chairs, how were the other 50 or so fans going to squeeze in? The principal, Farouk, told us a little about the school. It has capacity for 1000 kids, and currently has 1500 attending so classes are quite crowded. In addition, many of the children have problems at home. Nevertheless the school is doing well and achieving some of the best exam results in the area. Farouk had spent a fair bit of time with studies in Edinburgh and also travelled around England.

Farouk explained there were going to be around 300 pupils in the assembly hall and then dropped a bit of a bombshell. "They haven't told us exactly what you will be talking about but if you keep it down to 30 minutes that would be good". There followed a rapid exchange of wide-eyed petrified glances between the three of us. We asked when the other fans would arrive. There weren't any other fans coming here, we were it. The three of us sat there, hungover and knackered, dressed in football shirts, in the principal's office of a Durban high school wondering how the hell we were going to get ourselves out of this one.

The girls democratically made a decision and informed me I was talking first. Farouk walked us over to the assembly hall, where the kids were queueing to get in. It was ticket only to ensure no-one used it as an excuse to bunk off lessons. I was frantically trying to get as much water down me as possible, Em & Sara were quiet for the first time I can remember. Once the kids were all in, the principal took to the stage and gave a background to tomorrow's game and the 2010 World Cup bid. He then introduced us, he'd been careful to note our professions as he wanted to project the image to the kids that we'd worked hard to get the chance to travel out here.

He said Emma would be talking first, but I indicated it would be me. So I took to the stage with my trusty bottle of water, wearing my 'Africa 03' England shirt. I took the microphone and rambled on trying to explain who Derby County are, and that we used to be quite good but we're not now. Then I spoke a little about my first World Cup game (France v South Africa at France 98), how great Japan 02 had been, and urged them to get involved if South Africa does win the 2010 bid. Then Emma came up and said similar things about QPR, and then Sara saying similar things about Coventry. I have no idea if any of the kids had ever heard of Derby, QPR or Coventry, but they clapped in the right places and giggled when Sara started giggling part way through her turn.

Then the floor was thrown open to questions from the audience. From memory these included: what was the best game / goal / England player; what do you think of South African football; will SA win the 2010 bid; does watching football impact on family life; any advice for budding footballers; what will be the score tomorrow. By now we were much more relaxed and also relieved our individual contributions were out of the way so we answered all the questions as best we could. Then came a question from a girl near the back, on behalf of the ladies in the audience, was I married? I had no idea how to answer this so I just sat there and blushed while the entire assembly hall burst into laughter.

The principal then regained control of matters, thanked us for taking the time to visit and lead a round of applause. He told the kids that the recent cricket World Cup had been a huge success for South Africa and how important the 2010 World Cup would be in terms of jobs and the economy. We then went down onto the hall floor and spoke to kids indivdually, some asking questions about football, others trying to tell me where the best nightclubs were! Then a few kids started asking for autographs, and before we knew it the three of us were besieged for the next 15 minutes having pieces of paper, exercise books and notepads shoved under our noses to sign. We finally made it out of the hall, having had a little taste of being a celebrity!

The sports teacher then took us back to the relative calm of the staff room and introduced us to the other teachers who were now on their lunch break. She'd been in London a fair bit and was coming over again in June, and Sara may be able to wangle it for the three of them to go to Ascot. She then took us on a quick tour around the school via several lessons and showed us photos from their sports day which they hold at a big stadium near where the game is tomorrow. They have an olympic theme to the day and have the kids dress up in costumes of different nations.

I'm planning to get my England shirt signed in as many languages as possible, each person writing the word for 'football' in their own language. In the school I managed to get Zulu from one of the kids and Gujurati from the principal. We left some gifts for the kids, Emma and Sara were quite organised with various QPR, England and BBC goodies, all I had to offer were a bunch of Derby badges, wish I'd asked the club for some stuff. Farouk then drove us to a sports ground where all the participating fans were to congregate for the afternoon. He got a bit lost on the way, but it was great for us as he took us straight into the townships which we would normally not get to see.

At the sports ground there was food laid on in a marquee, as the kids from the surrounding schools started to turn up. The afternoon was to informally mark the opening of the facilities which were specifically aimed at giving all the children from the impoverished surrounding areas access to high quality sports coaching under the banner of 'Sport for all'. I nipped to the toilet, which was on a small hill to the end of the ground, and stood outside were two guards holding pump action shotguns, a reminder that we weren't in the safest place in the world.

We went into the ground and sat with the kids on the small piece of terracing. Then a bunch of England lads got the kids going with football chants, and the kids started singing Zulu songs. All around the training area, football coaching sessions were being held for kids in various age groups. I got dragged into heading practice with a girls' group and was half dead after a few minutes, then Em had a go and did better than me, and I took a turn at throwing the ball for the kids to head. One of the coaches had taken a shine to my shirt and I said I'd try to get him one when I'm back in England.

Unfortunately, it was time to go, we'd had a great day, both at the school and the training ground, and we all piled onto the open-top bus, waving at people walking by and ducking now and again to avoid low trees and telephone lines. At this point I realised I didn't have my mobile phone. I checked with Em to see if I'd given it to her for safe keeping but no luck. The next stop was the last, at the Bat centre which had a pub. I tried calling the coach who wanted my shirt to see if it had fallen out of my pocket during the heading practice, but his phone was switched off. Then I called Farouk (he'd given me his business card), who said he'd check his car and get back to me.

We grabbed a seat in the pub overlooking the docks area (which is nicer than I make it sound), with John, a Preston fan who had bought a load of kids shirts donated by PNE. Then Farouk phoned to say he had my phone and I could pick it up anytime. Serious relief, I didn't realise how much I depended on the phone until I lost it.

We got a taxi back to the hostel, and Emma added her signature to my shirt. We got some much needed kip and then headed out to a local Indian restaurant. We didn't survive there too long as all three of us were shattered.

Photos from today