SUNDAY
Wales arrive in Auckland from Wellington. Rob Howley gives a briefing in the Sky City hotel, where the French also happen to be staying. One of them will have to leave, to be decided by a straw poll. Since the draw will not be made till later, the Wales attack coach wanders off down the corridor wheeling his luggage behind him. He tells me they have identified a certain uprightness in the French ball-carriers and that Wales have a plan …
Later, Australia-South Africa in Wellington, New Zealand-Argentina at Eden Park. What has happened to the laws governing the breakdown?
MONDAY
The weather has turned grey and wet. Word comes in of Manu T's dip off the ferry. Former All Black coach John Hart is holding what sounds like a very high-powered meeting in the Cloud, part of the Fan Zone on Queen's Wharf. He comes over and says that he has only ever really worried about one team, Australia, and one player, David Pocock. And so begins the week of Richie's foot. If the AB skipper isn't fit – it's that damned loose screw in his fifth metatarsal – it could become a little messy.
TUESDAY
The AB assistant coach Wayne Smith is speaking at The Heritage. I want a line from him about Piri Weepu – you know, without anyone else hearing. This is the World Cup of zero contact with anybody on the inside. But it's just about possible if you get your angles and your timing right and I corner Smithy as he makes for the door and, bless him, he delivers a line about Piri's comeback after breaking his ankle. WS probably won't be arrested for breaking the Official Secrets Act.
WEDNESDAY
Eat at Prego on Ponsonby Road, famous for the Prego Pie. The pie is something of a New Zealand thing, usually served at thermonuclear temperature, but this one is a beauty. I am pie-ed out by the end and walk it off, back to the centre. It is raining still.
THURSDAY
Steve Hansen, the All Black assistant coach, starts a day of briefings and answers a question before it has been asked. "I'll tell you about Richie's foot …" It is fine and Richie is fine and Matt Todd is only in Auckland on holiday, boat-building, laying carpets, anything but on stand-by for Richie.
France next. What a weird mood they are in: chuckling, snarling, coming, going. Wales announce their team in the afternoon. Cameras by the score surround Jamie Roberts until he starts speaking Welsh, and suddenly he is on his own.
FRIDAY
It's becoming slightly surreal. The ABs announce their team before dawn. Richie's in. Graham Henry talks about the value of experience. Does that apply to you, Graham? "I'll be a bloody good coach when I'm 80," he (65) says. He's on grand form, expecting nothing but the best from Australia and better from his team.
Over the bridge to Takapuna, where Robbie Deans announces the Australia team, with brackets around the name of Kurtley Beale and those that will shuffle around should his hamstring not be ready. He's expecting Richie McCaw to be at his best and the ABs to be flying, and his team to be better. Is there pressure? You could make a Prego Pie with it.
SATURDAY
The longest day in the history of killing time on big-match days. KO 2100. Auckland is brilliant, bouncing with colour and laughter and anticipation. Every bus-stop has a band in it. Sam Warburton's short game and his longest night begin.
