Paris Rugby
7 Feb
This past weekend, my love and I took the fast train to Paris. A mere 2 hours and 25 minutes after a late boarding we arrived in a freezing city. 30 degrees Fahrenheit and -1 Celsius. The Parisians were bundled tighter than anyone I’ve seen in Kaiserslautern even though it was 11 degrees Celsius colder in K-town.
On game day we put first things first and headed to the pub. Even though we already had on long johns under our jeans, we still brought a bag of extra clothes to change into before heading to the Stade de France.
In the surprisingly clean bathroom I put on another long sleeve shirt under my sweater, added a thick pair of wool socks over the thin wool ones I already had on, and tied an extra scarf around my neck. In my purse I had wool gloves to wear inside cotton mittens. As soon as I worked my way out of the tiny bathroom stall I started sweating. Good sign.
We were the only Italy supporters in our whole section. The Azzurri made a valiant start and played well the whole game. We looked like a completely different team. Even though we lost (30-12), I can’t wait to watch us smash England in the ground this weekend in Rome.
Dai ragazzi.









