The rest of the week was equally wonderful and the journey home, via Munich this time, was equally tedious.

I happened to be in a bar with some American musicians during the latter stages of the Croatia-England World Cup game.  Foolishly they were relying on my football expertise to help them follow the match.  Despite that they enjoyed it and joined in with the general Croation delirium when the final whistle was blown.

They didn't go to the extent of jumping into the nearby fountain like this lot though:

I imagine that many of these bathers, having dried themselves off, were amongst the hundreds thronging around in Zagreb airport at 5am on the following Sunday en route to Moscow.