Honestly, I did try to go to church first thing this morning but they were all closed or wouldn't let me in. I gave up and joined the gathering clans of Welsh fans travelling on the TGV to Nantes.
The nice lady behind the counter on the TGV from Paris yesterday, who helped me manoeuvre my way around ordering a three course meal without any French, was on my train again this morning.
She remembered me. Those close to me say that it isn't a good thing that strangers remember me. Yesterday, she just seemed relieved that I wanted crème brulee for pudding.
The atmosphere just before the game was good. The French security bods gave up frisking every one of us as we tried to get into the stadium. I think they thought they were in a football match.
When Wales found themselves trailing during the first half, many of us weren't in the mood to do the Mexican wave. The French behind me thought that the good Canadian performance made for a good game. I was pleased for them.
A Frenchman wanted me to sing for him. I told him that I would if Wales won and he and his friend made a tidy queue to listen. We won but he and his mate couldn't queue so I didn't sing.
After the match I wanted to offer a really big thanks for a brilliant weekend so I found a cathedral in which to do it in. I lit a candle in a side chapel then got a bit worried after seeing a painting of the cathedral roof with its roof being burnt down.
Then I went down to the centre of Nantes to join the rest of the Welsh fans to watch Scotland beat Portugal. It was a perfect end to a perfect day.
supremely and ardently solicitous
2 months ago