Marauding Baboons

For the past 5 years, I have been a travelling England football supporter. Hey, before you jump to conclusions - no I'm not a hooligan. Not all football fans are you know - and I'll cut open anyone who says I am.

I have suffered mostly crap football though - seen England destroyed in Copenhagen, outplayed in Belfast, self-destruct at the World Cup in Germany and endured the misery of a trip to Zagreb and have to suffer an over-zealous baton-charging by the Croat police in order to get into the stadium to watch such shit.

I enjoyed visiting some of the random countries I got to of course - I don't know many people who've been to Macedonia, Israel or Kazakhstan and I wouldn't have discovered any of these places were it not for the football.

The Football though was beginning to be an annoyance which got in the way of an otherwise decent trip, so I decided after the trip to The 'stans of Central Asia last summer to retire from international duty.

However I'm almost guaranteed tickets to the World Cup Finals this summer in South Africa. So I applied for tickets because I knew there will be a nagging sense of regret if England did get to the Final and I could have been there.

So I decided at the weekend (subject to approval from my Fiancée of course) that I'll go out to watch the Semi-Final & Final IF England get that far. It would only be for a week, and it would be a nice mini-break to boot.

I was coming out of retirement for one last hurrah.

But this changed when I read about Cape Town's wild baboons here.

I'm not going all that way to be punched in the face by a fucking baboon.