Solo in Seoul

It's quarter past six on the evening of the 15th of January, and I'm about to board a flight to Seoul, South Korea. I'm alone, and probably quite underprepared for the next thirty-six hours. I've never been before, and although I know a little about the country I'm about to make a whistle-stop tour to, the last time I truly paid attention to this particular East Asian country for an extended period of time was most probably the 2002 World Cup, hosted by South Korea and Japan.

I really don't know what to expect.

So, with my trusty "Top Ten Things To Do in Seoul" guidebook, and a horrendous understanding of Korea... Off I trot to the most easterly nation I have ever stepped foot in.

Along the way, I will speak to as many people as possible, and experience as much of contemporary Korean culture as one can possibly inhale in a waking time of around 12 hours.

What follows is my travelogue of this time:

First, a little vignette from the flight. As you begin to watch an in-flight movie, there's a short Korean Air spot, just a little trademark to remind you who you're flying with. All airlines probably do it, and it's probably pretty uninteresting. But this particular one seems to have borrowed the first few bars from the Jurassic Park movie theme tune as their jingle. Pretty surreal. I wonder if they know? They must do, right?

Tundra:! It's dawn over Irkutsk, near the Russian-Mongolian border. I know that due to the weird little in-flight map system on the to screen they give you. I also know it's beautiful, because I have a window seat. I'm having to be kinda sneaky about looking out of the window, because it's what you might call "Airline Enforced Nightime". The cabin lights are dimmed, and they're attempting to keep it as dark and quiet as possible so people can sleep. Totally fair. But I'm flying over Southern Russian Siberia! I want to look out of the window! I've already been scolded for opening my blind  once.

Outside I can see mountains covered in snow, and rivers so white that they must be frozen. The
Cold is that special kind of freezing, that looks almost Blue from this height. This is the land of wolves and ice. Maybe people live here, but if so, they live in small villages or encampments. I can see no real built up areas. Just forest, and really scary looking mountains. "Well Patrick", I think to myself, as we tip right slowly, turning South, and I see a blanket of ice, a river, cut from the forest with clean lines, tamed as expertly as a piste from the wild... "Welcome to Asia".

 I've fantasised about seeing Lake Baikal, the biggest on the planet, since I first saw a documentary on Russia with Jonathan Dimbleby. I might be 30,000ft above it, but I have still just laid eyes upon it. I am astounded. It's a wonder of the world. It's a cradle of life, surrounded by mountains rising up to greet us. Well, either that or we're losing altitude, but I'm not even going to think about that.

6am after a very deep sleep in a hotel I can only describe as very Korean, and I find myself in a traditional Korean taxi driver's restaurant. These places are open 24 hours a day in order to keep the drivers of Seoul going. Much like the little green huts you see around London, but much, much nicer.
I order a soup which I have been told Koreans often eat for breakfast. It's a bit of a nightmare, and the waitress has to show me how exactly I am supposed to consume various parts (and there are many parts) of the meal. I found solace in the sticky rice. Partly because it was easy, but also because I hadn't eaten in a while, and my belly needed filling.
The soup was also served with two huge bowls of Kimchi, which although I had been told was starkly different from European or American versions of the pickled vegetables, still shocked me slightly. One was a mass of cabbage, the other, several slices of turnip or similar root vegetable. They were both spicy, sweet and brilliant alongside the beefy stock of spring onions and noodles. All this masses of food for around £8!
Although I surprised the hostel concierge by asking for directions to one of these restaurants, instead of the western style breakfast shacks that are becoming popular in Seoul, it was completely worth while. This was true Korean food. I can tell partly by the slight buzz going around my tastebuds 20 minutes after I last took a bite. It was also evident from the lack of English spoken by the staff (all two of them), and the obviously taken-aback look on their faces when I, and young white Brit, walked into their establishment with my little brown briefcase and a smile. Though it was 6am, and I know places in London that would be shocked at that.

I'm now on a train into Central Seoul. It is clean (and I mean spotless), bright white, almost empty... And yep, just like the hotel had underfloor heating, these seats are toasty as can be!
I dig a lot about Seoul, but the one thing I really think we could easily implement in Britain that would make people's lives a whole lot happier is the little jingle that they play on platforms when the train is about to arrive, and on the train as it is approaching the station. It's just nice, y'know?


First stop, Seoul City Hall. I like city halls, I think they give a good indication of how the lives of their citizens are led, as the architecture is essentially the way the municipal authorities make a first impression on visitors.
My first impressions were as good as the authorities could expect.

The Hall is made of two parts. First, the old hall. It is much like any other city hall, really, two wings either side of a main concourse. White brick, and grand without being ostentatious. Not a Catholic Church then. The new part on the other hand, is a glass behemoth rising above the old part like a tidal wave, the top floor curved and protruding out, almost as if it is about to crash over the old city and wash it away in order to start again.
The interior carries on this aesthetic, inspired by the natural world. It is home to the people and organisations that are tasked with making Seoulites lives as easy as possible. This idea of life is taken onboard quite literally. The walls are covered in vertical gardens, showcasing some of the local flora.

After marvelling in this building for some time, I made my way to Gyeongbokgung Palace, one of the ancient royal palaces that the Kings of Korea once inhabited. Upon arrival, the changing of the guards ceremony started almost immediately. Perfect timing! During the ceremony, I commented to an American family how much better it was than the changing of the guards at Buckingham palace. One of them said she'd like to see it, and hey, "You guys have a Queen though, that's pretty cool!". Those of you reading this who know my views on royalty can probably imagine my face at this point, as I made a remark about how that wasn't exactly great for a so-called LiberalDemocracy like the UK. The Americans made their exit at this point.

The ceremony really was a lot more impressive than the British equivalent, though. Perhaps it was because it was all new to me, but I found their traditional Korean dress much more interesting than a boring red coat and big ol' bear hat. The entrance and exit of the guards was marked by the beating of a huge drum, by a man for whom this was his sole job. Probably a pretty decent job, but standing around all day in the bitter cold for only a few moments work each hour must be a bit tiresome. Speaking of the cold, it's been about -8c all day. Now I get these heated subways seats.

There was a whole lot of marching, music, and flag waving. It was a little bit Edinburgh Military Tattoo actually. But much better. The bagpipes' dirge was replaced by the (surprisingly tuneful) blowing through a shell.  There was also an entertainingly chubby man at the back of the marching band who seemed to be a bit fed up that all he was allowed to do was crash cymbals. He was good at it though, and crashed those cymbals loud and hard each time. Good job.

I then paid about £2 to enter the Palace compound itself. It's massive! I mean, I know it's a royal compound and all, but it just seemed to go on and on, so whichever direction you turn out of whichever quad, there was either another quad of some importance (usually where some King or other had invented something. I found this doubtful, to say the least. Surely it was an aide who invited all these things, and the King just presided over it? I mean, one apparently invited the alphabet. It was all a little "Kim Jong Un just invented the Hamburger" for comfort.) or there was a ceremonial garden. The gardens were the best bit. Not only was the flora very new to me, but they often allowed a brief rest from the Selfie-Stick waving masses that were wandering around the more important parts of the complex. Often this wandering was helped by a guide, who all decided to speak through microphones, even when addressing a crowd of 6. Infuriating, but I guess if you give someone a mic, they are going to use it, aren't they?

After an hour and a half of guard changing and wandering, my fingers felt like they would drop off from the cold. I think the café workers were a little surprised about how excited I was to see their warm, welcoming sofas, and cheap elixirs (coffee).

After that, I trotted off to find some grub. Before I did, I found one of the best buildings I've ever seen. It made me think, much like I did in Amsterdam, that we Brits just need to say yes to more slightly mental ideas. The Jongno Tower is a skyscraper unlike any other. It looks from the side like any other, and then, as you round the corner, you realise that the architect has decided that on top of this already impressive structure, he would place another set of floors, supported only on the sides, and with a whole through the middle. I guess he really liked doughnuts. Ironically enough, there was a Dunkin' Doughnuts opposite. I hope it was ironic, anyway.

That brings me on to another important point about Seoul, actually. And that is the American influence. It is everywhere. For obvious historical and current political reasons, of course (the U.S. Army still has a large contingent here). However, it is still a bit weird seeing Subway,Starbucks, 7Eleven and the aforementioned doughnut dispensary at almost uniform intervals.

My lunch was again very Korean, well, once I'd managed to communicate what I'd like. They had no English menu, and I had to go outside with the waitress to point at the picture of the food they have on the street. Another funny little touch was the ringtone of their kitchen phone: Beethoven's 5th, in 8-bit. Naturally.

This place was in the Insadong neighbourhood. Unfortunately I wasn't able to spend as much time as I'd have liked there, and see all the cool little art places, as I had to catch my train back to Unseo to collect my bag and be on time for my flight. Much like my failure to see Namdan park; where you can climb the city centre hills, scale the radio tower, and get superb views of Seoul, this simply gives me a reason to come back and spend some more time in South Korea.

The restaurant was mainly frequented by builders and local tradesmen and women. I'm fairly sure they were laughing at my clueless attempts to locate the chopsticks, and I'm almost certain they then laughed at my using of them. I had ambition, but not much else. Massive amounts of rice, kimchi and egg-battered vegetables accompanied my chilli and seafood soup. Well. I say seafood. There was a whole prawn (which I had exactly no clue how I was supposed to separate from it's shell with only chopsticks and a spoon) and two clams. The clams were very nice. I'm sure the prawn might have been too. Suffice to say, I did not starve.

Just saw an advert for "Mr. Pizza! Ladies First". Not entirely sure if it's a pizza place or some kind of Sugardaddy service. That's an odd way to end my South Korean adventure, but actually it's quite fitting. Seoul is a city that does not allow one to know what to expect. It is an intricate mix of history and extravagant futurism. It's wide boulevards are within a stone's throw of winding urban mazes which the locals traverse as locals do, but tourists are intrigued by and nervous of. For every Taxi Driver's midnight soup stall, there is a 7Eleven and Burger King. The airport is similar to the City Hall in it's structure and aesthetic, yet is full of Hello Kitty cafés and designer scarf stores.

It was a hectic 36 hours, and I'm extremely glad to have taken the opportunity to have them in Seoul. But next time, I will have to travel with two things: a friend or group, and summer weather. There are times for cold, but wandering round a completely new city is perhaps not one.

The Anti-Spanish Movement in Gran Canaria is Alive and Well

The Canarian Independence movement might be officially over, but there's still Anti-Spanish anger to be seen and understood on these Atlantic islands.

By the 1970's the movement for Canarian independence from Madrid was fizzling out. There had been political mass action, as well as small but dangerous spates of violence on the streets of Gran Canaria. Unfortunately for those involved, the movement remained small, and never really caught the attention of the population as seen in other parts of the Iberian peninsular, such as Catalunya and the Basque region of France and Spain.

However, it would be wrong to believe that the problem is solved in the minds of the Canarian population.

On a short visit to the capital city of Gran Canaria, Las Palmas, this winter the feeling of alienation from mainland Spanish identity was clear to see.

The first sign that the people of this Atlantic island, off the coast of West Africa, are not completely content is the repeated graffiti declaring "Spanish Out!" along the main promenade on la Playa de Canteras.

This popular tourist destination was quite obviously not the central area for political action in the city, but it was also clear that this graffiti is not placed as it is to attract the attention of like-minded Canarians.

Instead, the slogan is more of a marketing ploy, directed at English speaking tourists, to enlighten the sun-following visitors that for the island's inhabitants, life is not paradisiacal.

However small this insignia may be, and however overlooked it unfortunately is by most tourists, who simply come for the winter sun, these words hint at an important feeling still present with a large number of Canarians.

On the menus of most restaurants serving food thought of as Spanish staples, most notably Tapas, visitors will almost always encounter a few items described as Canarian dishes. Of course, the availability of local food, and locally sourced food, is not only found here. But the pride in these dishes, and the excitement with which owners and waiters attempt to sell these dishes, when understood in the social environment of the Canaries, illuminates the independent minds and thoughts of the people on these islands.

This pride again raises it's head when talking to the young adults of Las Palmas. Perhaps it is my inquisitive mind, but I often strike up in conversation with shop keepers, waiters, or even just those who I seek directions from on the street. Unlike other tourist destinations in Spain or France that I have visited, all of the people working in Las Palmas, that I spoke to, were local. Perhaps it is due to the distance from other areas (even the closest Canarian Island to Gran Canaria, Tenerife, is over 100 kilometres by boat), or the economic hard times that Spain has encountered since the '08 Crash. Whatever the reason for this, the important lesson I gained from these conversations with locals, is that they do not consider themselves Spanish.
I asked, perhaps naively, if they were Spanish or Canarian, whenever the opportunity arose. "Canarian, of course!" was the uniform response.


The organised mass-movement of Canarian Independence may have collapsed to all intents and purposes in the 1970s. But the graffiti scrawled along beachside walls is an important reminder that the Catalan and Basque movements are not alone in modern Spain. In the current European climate of slow economic recovery, and in the wake of successful campaigns and plebiscites for Independence that led to the historic splitting of Serbia and Montenegro in 2006, and after our very own neighbour Scotland so nearly split from the United Kingdom this year, it would not be of any surprise if the Canarian people decided that the time was right to begin again their quest for independence.  

Does a fatal stabbing mean Chelmsford has a knife problem?

Yesterday, a young man was killed in an apparent knife attack in one of Chelmsford's most popular, and middle-class, parks. Details as of yet are sketchy, at best, although two young men have been arrested in connection with the death.

Today, Chelmsford was noticeably glum. Amongst the many children enjoying an early finish to their school term, there were many youngsters carrying flowers towards the park, situated at the top of one of Chelmsford's main shopping streets. Today it was easy to overhear conversations, not about Christmas shopping, but of shock that 'something like this' would happen in a town like Chelmsford.

We're lucky to live outside of areas known for violent crime. However, the extremely short distance to those areas, namely East London, was perhaps on the minds of residents today. No, this is not an event that often occurs here, but neither is it impossible.

It's important at this juncture to recognise that this is not the first time knife crime has occurred in the newest City in Essex, and long time County Town. In fact, just two days earlier an 18-year-old was stabbed in both legs, only a few miles from this attack. The two incidents are not reported to be linked.

Knife crime is nothing new. It's been a growing issue in Britain's cities for the last decade or more. 

And that is clearly a massive problem. The links it has with drugs and gang violence are equally worrisome, and although there is no word on whether this case is linked to either of those overarching factors, the thought of such is no doubt lingering in some residents minds.

However, in Chelmsford, we remain fortunate. Although it knife crime is seen as a "significant concern" by the Essex Police and Crime Commissioner, and an ongoing target of Police resources, , it is still a much smaller concern in this country, in comparison to our neighbours in the Greater London area.

This May, Essex Police revealed that a knife or blade was used in 1127 offences in the 12 months previous. That sounds like a lot. But when compared to 14,169 across London Boroughs in the year 2011-12, the reality of a small (but of course still dangerous) area of criminality is seen.

Residents of Chelmsford should clearly be worried by the news of this type in our community. But we should also be shocked. We should recognise that we live in what is generally considered a safe area, and this type of incident is not commonplace.

Yes, there is a problem with knives in Chelmsford, but that is simply due to the wider problem with knives in the UK.

Yes, we are shocked. But let's also be thankful for the work of local authorities, and that we are not used to this type of crime. 

No NUS and Police Liaison Officers. Is This the New Student Demonstration?

Thousands of students and activists once again made their way to Parliament Square yesterday to show their continued anger at the cost of Higher Education tuition in England and Wales.

This action was seen by the organisers, the National Campaign Against Fees and Cuts (NCAFC), as the largest showing on the capital's streets since 2010's initial marches against the hiking of fees to £9,000. However, the marchers were split by many forces, including the lure of those who broke down fences intended to keep protesters off the grass, and staged a fairly unorganised occupation. By the time 3pm came, and the speeches were in full swing, only two or three thousand of the estimated ten who began at UCLU remained.

The question of numbers and the ease at which different groups broke off was prevalent throughout the day. One possible reason for both of these was the decision by the National Union of Students (NUS) to pull their support for the protest due to what they called an "unacceptable level of risk".

The NUS will surely point to the arrests (for far, four have been reported) and damage made to property by small groups of protesters. However, these incidents were not part of the organised protest, two of the main incidents, at the Department of Business and Innovation and outside New Scotland Yard, happened whilst the main rally was being addressed by the likes of Aaron Kiely (who unsuccessfully ran for NUS Presidency last year) and Caroline Lucas MP, of the Green Party.

Not only were these arrests in smaller numbers than in previous years, then, but they were surely not the responsibility of the organising bodies, namely the NCAFC. In fact, the NUS argument of an unsafe protest hits more hurdles. One of these, and a significant one, is the Police action on the day. 

Yes, students have a reason to take proactive measures such as handing out solicitors details, in the wake of previously harsh action. You'll all remember the disturbing scenes of 'kettleing', I'm sure. However, in this instance, the Met were not only peaceful, but their tactic of deploying specialist Liaison officers worked very well.

One of these, Constable Tim Morris, was more than happy to talk to me, and even be quoted. This will surely strike a chord with anyone who's tried to talk to Police on a demonstration before. It's not usually this easy at all. Morris said that the friendly, liaising approach was the "new Policing. Where we don't care if they're on the grass, because that's not really that important in the grand scheme of things. We'd much rather chat and be open, than be chasing and arresting people".

In previous years, if a group had broken down barricades and broken the contract that organisers had with the Police, the Met may have reacted badly, and we may have seen a larger, more violent incident. However, because the protesters were simply left to their own devices, the anger seemed to dissipate, and no one was hurt in Parliament Square.

Later on in the evening, this was not the case, as I have already mentioned. But whatever one's own political stance, it can surely be understood that once people are damaging property (in the case of the Department of Business and Innovation, not even property connected to the reason for protest) the Police cannot stand by and watch. Interestingly, even after 4pm (When the protest officially ended), the Police were noticeably calmer than in previous years, and when the groups made their way back to Parliament from New Scotland Yard, the Met again let them onto the green, and did not follow or attempt to make arrests.  

It seems then, that the NUS's claims of an unsafe demonstration were unfounded.

When I spoke to Conor McGurran, Campaigns Officer at Manchester University Students' Union, he remarked that this was "Perhaps the safest protest I have been on. But without the NUS it is certainly smaller than it could have been, and with their involvement it could have been even safer. I feel that they've run away a little bit, and left it to others when they really should be involved".

A similar view was given by Alex Clifford, a Graduate of Keele University, who served as a Student Union officer in 2012/13 and is now Communications Coordinator at the University of Greenwich SU.  The NUS have a "quite comprehensive staff network who could have helped out weeks/months ago in organising this demo and ensuring risk was minimized". He added that the NUS were "actually mandated to participate in" this demonstration, again adding to the general feeling that the student population was let down by the body that are supposed to stand up for them.

Without the NUS, then, a vacuum was left to be filled. And at 3pm, Aaron Kiely stood up, and announced that someone had come out from the Palace of Westminster to talk to the protesters. This person was Caroline Lucas, Green Party MP for Brighton Pavilion. As has become common in anti-austerity rally's in London, Lucas reiterated her Party's stance on getting rid of Trident, and using that money to fund Higher Education. This was of course, hugely popular with the crowd.

 I spoke to Lucas after her speech, and brought up the issue of the NUS not attending or backing the day's activities. Her response was quite remarkable. She did not know that the NUS had pulled out. In fact, when I told her such, both her and her secretary looked extremely shocked. That's right; the Green Party MP, who has been such a public figure in her support for the student movement, and the anti-Austerity movement more widely, did not research the organisers of a demonstration before she took her place on the podium and allowed herself to be intimately connected with the movement.

In doing so, Lucas was also happy to accept the applause from a crowd that will have taken great pride and confidence in the idea that they have a high profile supporter in the House of Commons. All of which is surely worth much less, if anything at all, seeing as it is apparent that Lucas did not actually know who she was supporting.

The lack of NUS involvement in Wednesday's action may seem like small detail, and in some ways, seeing that many thousands of students from all over the UK arrived to march on Westminster, it was. But that's truly only half of the story. The NUS may not be to the taste of all students, but it is still the only national body that is run and mandated by students, for students. It has an incredibly powerful potential. It's presence in UK politics is perhaps one reason that Lucas simply assumed that they would be present.

But they were not. They backed out, for what turned out to be no reason at all. And their constituents let their feelings be known, as the word "scab" was scrawled across their Central London HQ. This would have been a much bigger, and arguably more successful National Demonstration with the NUS involved. We can only hope that they will make an appearance next time the call is made.   

#FreeEducation

I'm heading off to London in a sec, to see the #FreeEducation demo and march.

For live tweets, pictures and thoughts, follow me at @patricvk

And I'll be uploading a blog on today's events either tonight or tomorrow morning!


P

A Win's a Win

"Just catching up on the Welsh rugby reports... anyone would think we lost! #winsawin " @TomShanklin ex-Welsh rugby player



Wales vs Fiji is a fixture with an emotional history for both sets of fans. Their last two meetings at World Cups have been explosive affairs, resulting in a close-fought but resounding upset by the Fijians in Nantes '07, and in 2011 a cricket-like scoreline that set up a youthful Welsh side for their best showing in a World Cup, ever.

  It was with this history in mind that over 60,000 fans snapped up the cheapest tickets available in the "Dove Men's Autumn International Series", including a family price of £50 which enabled a huge number of teenage fans to see the game, and make all the noise that thousands of young boys and girls equipped with airhorns might be expected to make under the closed Millennium Stadium roof. 

 The scene was set for a game of explosive running, competitive forward play, and arguably most important for the young audience, points aplenty! 

 And for 35 minutes the teams obliged. The Welsh midfield may have stuttered against a physically imposing opposition (Jamie Roberts is not used to being the smaller Inside Centre, but against the 19-stone Nemani Nadolo, this was the case), but when called upon to execute a training ground set move from the solid base of a strong Scott Baldwin/Bradley Davies line-out, the back line performed skillfully, and Scott Williams perfectly delayed pass allowed George North to do what he does best, and finish well in the adjacent corner. 

 In the scrummage too, the pack continued to impress as they did against the Australians last week. Gethin Jenkins was solid, but Samson Lee was the outstanding Prop, and as he did seven days previously, convinced the Welsh public that perhaps leaving out the double Grand Slam winning Adam Jones was in fact a stroke of Gatland genius.  

 The Fijian back line also looked dangerous on a number of occasions. Talbula at 15 made impressive runs, and his aerial battle with the imperious (and deserving Man of the Match) Liam Williams was fantastic. For what it's worth, he also had the best hair on the field. A small, but important detail in modern sport. 

 The Fijians were let down by scrum half Matawala, who made a few bad kicks, only aiding Williams by giving the fullback the opportunity to show his prowess in the air, and in running at a broken field. If he had instead kept ball in hand, and given his own back line the chances they deserved, the halftime scoreline may have been closer than 17-6. 

 That was the story for 35 minutes, at least. 

The last five of the half were slow, and it was clear that the halftime whistle would be greeted with relief by both sides.

  Unfortunately, the half-time rituals seemed ineffectual in restoring energy to the Welsh. Instead of continuing their drive for points, as they successfully managed in New Zealand, the sloppy ball skills continued, and a breakdown in communication that destroyed what had been a solid line-out, and returned it to the dark days of the early 2000's. 

 Now, nearly every attempt at crashing through the centres was met with either a coughing up of 

possession or a ripping of the ball that, at this level, really shouldn't be allowed by those with the experience of Roberts and Williams.

  Fast forward to the Priestland pass on the Fijian 22, which should really not have been made at all, but was, and was then easily intercepted by Nadolo for a 60 metre try.

 The reaction was disappointment, of course, as the passage of play had looked like it would result

in Welsh points. But surprised? Certainly not. Priestland looked out of his depth all afternoon, and as well as inaccuracies in his passing game, he never truly controlled the game, and the incisive breaks he had previously won Gatland's selection with were entirely absent. 

The second half had started with the Fijian pack minus their loosehead Ma'fau for the collapsing of a maul (for which a Penalty Try was also awarded to the Welsh forwards) and midway through the second period, this yellow was transformed to a permanent exclusion, as he decided to drive at Bradley Davies' legs whilst he was still airborne after winning line out ball. An easy decision for dangerous, and frankly, stupid play.

  Surprisingly though, this was not the second half event that caused most uproar from the Millennium Stadium crowd. That came a few moments before, as Liam Williams seemed to break-free of a challenge and off-load to the charging Taulupe Faletau, who duly fought off his chasers to open the second half scoring. 

  However, the referee on the field, Garces, and his Televisual colleague Damasco decided that Williams had been effectually tackled (despite being able to stand up after hitting the floor), and called back the play for a Fijian penalty.  The crowd continue to show their vocal disapproval for several minutes.  

 Despite playing against 14 men for such a long time, the Welsh were unconvincing, and although they were sometimes unlucky not to extend their advantage, the little mistakes made in the Fijian half that didn't affect the scoreboard, suddenly did, as Nadolo made his clean heels seen. 

 There were positives. Liam Williams was the obvious one. The first half forward performance will only be enhanced by a return of Alun Wyn Jones for 80 minutes. And if North is given the ball more, he shows no sign of wavering from doing what George North does; score tries. 

 But with a week before the All Blacks visit, there's a lot to improve on. 

 Monday morning will hopefully be dedicated to keeping the ball in the tackle. 

Final: Wales 17 - 13 Fiji

A Recent Keele Graduate Walks Into a Bar...

Okay, so there are no Irishmen involved, and he does work in the bar, but he walks in nonetheless. It just so happens that this all takes place last Friday, the day after Marvellous was shown on the BBC.

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"Mate, did you see that thing about that Neil Baldwin fella? I think it was at your Uni!", exclaimed my colleague as I walked behind the bar.

As things to hear as you start a 10 hour shift go, that's not half bad. He went on to talk about the uplifting effect Nello's tale had on him, and how happy he was that it's all true. "I'd have loved it as a story even if it wasn't", he said, "but the fact that it's real just makes it incredible". I have to say that I agree.

It is perhaps lost on some of us who know Keele, and even know Neil, that his story is so widely heralded. For us, it's special to see our beloved campus, Student's Union, and even some of our friends on the screen. But for all of the 1.5 Million viewers on Thursday night, it was a story of compassion, joy and strength in the face of adversity. It was uplifting for millions.

To come into work, and be told that someone outside of our affectionately-known 'bubble' was able to love Nello's story in just an hour and a half shows the power of both Neil and Peter Bowker's work.

Of course, not all of Neil's story is joyful, and as the similarities to Forest Gump are pointed out, we must remember that his resilience in such times is absolutely part of what makes Neil so special.

However, as some have pointed out, the patronising tone with which some characters addressed Neil in the film is a serious issue to face, and one which is arguably extended by relating Marvellous to Forest Gump. Gump is a fictional tale, and one which takes the issues of disability to the extreme, simply for cinematic effect. Moment's of Gump's aloofness or straight-faced reaction to how others perceive him is often seen as funny. I don't entirely agree that this should be the effect, but humour is an effective tool in revealing the power of Tom Hank's character. 

 It is, however,  a world away from the true story of the Stoke City and Keele legend, quite simply because Nello's tale is true. When Toby Jones' Neil asks "Real Neil" what he thought of the Stoke City player calling him a "mong", there is no humour. Instead, Neil's honesty and strength of character are shown in his direct and sincere reply that "it's only banter". 

 I don't believe the two films should be conflated, and my colleague's sentiments explain why quite perfectly. "The fact that it's real just makes it incredible". We shouldn't forget that; it's what allows the story of one brilliant man to permeate the lives of so many, all around Britain. 

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When I decided to tell my co-worker that not only was I an extra in the film, but I have had the pleasure of knowing and speaking to Neil during my time at Keele, the look on his face was just, well, Marvellous.