Durban is probably my favourite city in this country because of the weather and the beach. England may have been enjoying temperatures close to 30 degrees, but Durban was a respectable 25, and this is winter here remember. Freezing our bollocks off at Ellis Park ten days previously when we first caught Brazil seems a distant memory now.

A leisurely morning at Ian's was followed by our departure for the stadium. Our hosts employ a gardener and a cleaner, and gave them the afternoon off when South Africa played France on Tuesday. I did not have the chance to say more than hello to the gardener, so have no idea of his name. However, the cleaning lady was called Joyce. I knew this was not her real name and asked her what her African name was. She'll have to forgive my memory, but it was something like Tsembile. There is a phenomenon of employees from the induginous population having English names here. I guess it is a hangover from past times when those paying the wages couldn't get their heads round African names. I can't see it having come from those who acquired the alternative names, but I could be wrong. I don't know enough about it to really go into depth on this, but in the modern day, given all the changes in this society, it seems a bit odd. I guess old habits die hard.

We left at noon for Durban proper, our game kicking off at 4. It was a little more complicated parking up in the casino car park than on our previous visit. For some reason they had blocked off the slip road we had used to access the beach road leading to the casino complex. We found another way in and at one point bribed one of the traffic attendants 10 rand to let us through some cones and avoid queuing an extra few minutes. At times, bribery is what makes this country tick. It ain't right, but when in Rome and all that.

Once parked, we took a stroll down the promenade on the beach. There was a rock climbing wall which we had watched people clambouring up on our last visit. At the side of it was a wire that ran to another rock climbing wall fifty metres away and about 100 feet above the ground which you could slide along, attached by a harness. There was no queue to speak of today and the big kid in me demanded I have a go. It was a buzz. We then had lunch in an Indian restaurant facing the beach before I had a much needed haircut in a barber shop next door. We were packing in a fair bit before the game.

We strolled back to the stadium and entered about 30 minutes before kick-off. Kaka was suspended, Elano injured and Robinho presumably rested, allowing Dani Alves, Nilmar and Julio 'The Beast' Baptista to start. I am scratching my head at how Baptista gets in the squad, and he did little to change my mind on this performance. His poor display provided Adam with some entertainment though as he remembered old times at Arsenal. During the first half I found myself feeling very tired and having to concentrate hard to follow the game. I looked at Adam and he was rubbing his eyes. We were both feeling it. I wouldn't say we were footballed out, but we weren't too far off it. I remember when I did the whole tournament in Japan eight years ago with a similar intensity of how good it was to have a bit of a break when there were two days without games before the quarter finals. This time around I will be flying back home to experience the tournament's final eight matches on the television at home.

There was hope that the game could be a bit competitive with a flurry of early bookings. But a draw suited both sides. Maybe if Portugal knew that the evening matches would give them a game against Spain rather than Chile, they might have gone for the win with a little more vigour. As it was, chances were few and at the end of the game there were boos from many of the crowd. I saw a similar game in Germany four years ago. A three day trip started with England v Sweden and concluded with Brazil v Japan, two games for which I had tickets and both cracking games. In between, I travelled to Frankfurt to catch Holland v Argentina - supposedly the game of the first round. I paid something like £200 for a ticket outside the stadium. It was a great place to watch a game, but it was no classic. Both teams had already qualified, played sligntly weakened sides (although for Argentina, this mean Messi and Tevez up front) and drew 0-0. My main memory is the Kaizer Franz Beckenbauer arriving by helicoptor and striding across the pitch from an entrance near the corner flag. On the way to the access the directors' box area, Gio van Bronckhorst engaged him in a minute's chat. I thought this might be an early marker for a later future in football politics from our former player. Time will tell.

We were in the middle tier for this game, behind the goal at the end where the stadium is open to the elements, although being a pleasant warm day, there was no issue there. At the Germany v Australia game at this venue, we had been unable to see the goal-line at our end from our seats in the lower tier. We could see it okay from where we were today, but I realised that probably no-one in the lower tier could. We were only in row 12 downstairs, but the rows go back a fair way and all would have had the advertising hoardings obscuring their view. In this day and age, you'd think there was some way around this so that everyone in the stadium gets a complete view of the pitch.

There are invariably two big videoscreens at the stadiums. Depending on the age of the stadium, the quality varies, so for example the ones at Rustenburg aren't great but those in Durban are bigger and clearer. Before the game and during half time they always show the official song for the tournament, which I imagine is called 'It's Time for Africa' and is sung by Shakira. Maybe it's a hit back home, I have no idea. Anyway, aside from the stadiums, we hear it at places like airports and it's become ingrained in my subconscious. It's an ok pop song, but if I never hear it again, it won't mourn. You can have too much of a good thing. Having seen her face so often on huge videoscreens, I have to say she is a good-looking girl, and that's from a man who doesn't normally go for blondes. It is a shame that such a song isn't being performed by a South African, but the optimum commercial option is one thing that FIFA will always favour.

Around the Jo'burg area, some of the stadiums play the song at half-time, but forego the normal video to show a collection of teenage girls called the McDonald's dancers strutting their stuff pitchside. Think the Hammerettes but with more ethnic diversity. They wear red outfits and some of these teenagers (I am guessing they are about 16 and those I refer to are invariably black) have the kind of figures that suggest they could as easily get work in a lapdancing bar. Somehow, I find the vision of them utterly compelling. I think I've been away from home a bit too long.

On this theme, Adam strolled back down the beach area after the game to find something to eat and described it as something like Bigg Market on a Saturday evening (for those familiar with Newcastle nightlife). I didn't have the energy to walk that far and settled for burger and chips and a bottle of water for 30 rand (£3) at the first place we came to. It was a pleasure to sit down in the warm evening (it gets dark about 5 pm in Durban at this time of the year) and listen to the sound of the sea. Durban has marketed itself at these finals as 'the warmest place to be' and there's no lie there. A lovely place.

We drove back to Ian's just in time to catch the start of the Spain v Chile game on the box. We checked on the Switzerland v Honduras score periodically and I have to say I was shocked the Swiss falied to score, meaning their elimination. Spain's win meant that I will not see the dream game of Brazil v the Spanish on Monday night as Ellis Park, but at least we have England v Germany on Sunday. It will be up at 5.30 in the morning as we have to be on an 8am flight to Port Elizabeth. We've got used to driving the Kia Sportage and it will be a shame to drop it off at Durban. Something more modest will be picked up at Port Elizabeth airport on arrival.

It is our last night at Ian's, and we have stayed there for four nights in total on this trip. He and Annie have a lovely home and it has been a pleasure being in such a relaxing environment. Ian is a rare book dealer these days and it is fascinating to browse the shelves in the room where he works. It is a shame to move on, but move on we must, but with many thanks to our hosts for their kindness. I hope to see them again on a more orthodox visit before too long. As we leave Durban, we are on the final stretch. Adam has two more matches to attend, while I hang around a bit longer and have four. A reader of this very website, Mark, got in touch when I mentioned I had spares for the final two days of my trip. He is flying out over the weekend and I sorted him a ticket for the Sunday night Soccer City match between Argentina and Mexico, sohe will see three games altogether. Certainly enough to get a real flavour of this tournament. Whether my words about how great it was over here had any influence on his decision to come I'll find out when I meet him, but I am sure he won't regret his visit. Having done a similar thing in Germany four years ago, I know that three games in three days is a great way to dip your toe into an event like this and feel you've been a part of it. It will be strange attending my final two matches with a different companion, but I am sure his enthusiasm for being here will be a boost.