This used to be the last hundred meters of my regular run. Now it is the first hundred meters of many people's night out at the RWC.
This is the golden moment between the road being closed on a Friday afternoon and the crowds arriving, to queue until Sunday, to witness quarter final glory and misery.
It is free to get in, but there are temporary fences on the historical fences, which keep people from getting to the electric fences. That's our farming heritage: we fucking love fences.