Kicking off Rugby World Cup 2023

After the painful experience getting tickets for the Rugby World Cup, it was good to be on my way finally. I had decided to fly to Montpellier rather than straight to Marseille for England’s opening match against Argentina. This turned out to an excellent decision, not just because I saved a small fortune on travel but because Montpellier is a stunning city that sits on the Mediterranean coast, 100 miles to the west of Marseille.

The airport bus dropped me in the heart of the city nice and early and I was immediately struck by the beautiful honey coloured limestone buildings, grand boulevards and its chic ambience. I had a full day to explore the city, so began by finding my bearings from the comfort of a café situated in Montpellier’s main square, the Place de la Comédie.

Discovering Montpellier

My first visit of the day was to the Pavillon Populaire to see an exhibition I’d seen advertised online on the work of Spanish Catalan photographer Antoni Campañà. In 2018, two red boxes containing over 5,000 of his prints and negatives of the Spanish Civil War were rediscovered and were now on display for the first time.

In a series of portraits, I was struck by how Campañà was able to make his subjects appear heroic, simply by the low angle at which he photographed them. Note to self, could I experiment with this technique in my own photography and see if I can make rugby fans look more heroic?

Having lost all sense of time at precisely 12.30pm, the few of us who were still in the building were politely asked to leave because the gallery was closing for lunch. Reassuringly, we were told all visitors were welcome to return later that afternoon.

Imagine getting chucked out of an art gallery in London, New York or wherever because the staff were off for a long lunch… I smiled and thought to myself, this is one of the reasons why I love the country so much. France, please don’t ever lose your traditions and rituals and start adopting the heathen ways of your Anglo Saxon neighbours.

Liquid lunch

From the Pavillon Populaire, I headed in the general direction of the Arc de Triomphe looking for a place to stop for lunch. In a little brasserie just off the Rue Foch, I spied on the drinks menu a Mediterranean IPA, which is a brew I had yet to see in Southern Europe. Intrigued, I Google translated its description and learned it’s produced in Valencia and weighs in at a mighty 6.8% ABV. Furthermore, its ‘An American IPA with a Mediterranean spirit, it has managed to win the hearts and palates of the public and has given much joy’.

In need of some lunchtime joy, I had obviously come to the right place so decided to order one and then another to help wash down a nice Salade Niçoise before heading off to the Promenade du Peyrou for a nap on a park bench under the shade of a mighty plane tree.

Later that afternoon I was joined by my son, who being a student, had arrived on an overnight coach from Paris. We had toyed with the idea of watching the opening game of the tournament that evening at Montpellier rugby club, having met a number of their fans at a recent match against Harlequins at the Stoop.

Being a little way out of town and with nothing published on their website, we concluded it would be a bit risky to just wander down to the GGL Stadium, so decided to find a bar in the centre of town to watch the opener.

A very solid performance

We managed to squeeze into Fitzpatrick’s Irish Pub, which was rammed full of highly excited French men and women and a lone Scotsman who was also off to Marseille in the morning. We got chatting and managed to get ourselves invited to a clan march which was taking place on Sunday prior to the Scots opening pool match against South Africa. He also told us he had a concrete business back home, which got me wondering if he had any advise for Gregor Townsend on how to strengthen the Scottish defence.

The environment wasn’t exactly conducive for focusing on a game of rugby, so I don’t remember many of the finer details but clearly it was a good night for the tournament hosts who fought deep into the final quarter to see off New Zealand 27-13 at the Stade de France. Amazingly, this was the first time the All Blacks had ever lost a pool game at a Rugby World Cup, having won all 31 of their previous group matches.

Pleased to leave a hot and sweaty bar and step out into a cool breeze, we made our excuses and disappeared into the night. In the morning we were off to Marseille to watch England play Argentina.