Up early and set about unbuilding the bunk beds ready for collection tomorrow. Much easier than assembling them was a year ago. Having done this, I went down to the seafront to see Barney and Robbie, work colleagues who were setting off to do a sponsored cycle ride for a children's charity. Robbie particularly impressed me by his "preparations" i .e. a massive hangover. I gave him the big bottle of water I had just bought as it was a blazing hot day, and he was totally dehydrated.

I walked about for a couple of hours, nosing in the Futon shop as I will need something to use as a spare bed now that the bunk beds are no more. Got a haircut too. Not too bad actually, although it was a large bald bloke who did it.

The afternoon given over to England's world cup quarter final against Portugal. I popped into the Eddie, one of the pubs very close to me, to sample the atmosphere just before going up to watch it with Anton on his big flatscreen TV with his pal Rick.

The Eddie, and Brighton, and the whole country was buzzing with happy anticipation. And inevitably it all went horribly wrong. The captain, Beckham, off injured, wunderkind Rooney sent off for stamping on someone, heroic rearguard action and -- unbelievably -- losing, yet again, on penalties. Just like they did in the European cup two years ago to the same opposition. Just like they do every other world cup tournament. Thank goodness for Buddhism.

After the game we sat in the garden in the beautiful weather. Got to hold Oskar for quite a while. Nice little chap he is. After the babes were put to bed, we ate delivery curries outside and drank cold wine and chatted. The football induced gloom quickly banished.

Below Barney in skeleton gear, Robbie with hangover.