On the last evening, the campsite was very large, we were basically camping out in a river mouth that had dried up. The boys couldn't resist putting sticks in the gravel for goal posts and playing some soccer. These are the same boys, who on the first night, wanted to sing Manchester United songs at close to midnight when everyone else had gone to bed long ago. They went to sleep talking soccer and woke up talking soccer. So when K bounced the ball on his head and some other fancy stuff, the boys were immediately smitten!
Watching them play in the dust with the sun setting on the mountain behind them was seeing soccer as poetry.
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