THE weather is warming up after a weekend storm and so is the World Cup, Samoa's terrific performance against England the talk of Australia.

The Welsh camp was as agog as everyone else, wondering if England are, indeed, vulnerable. Coach Steve Hansen was minding his own business chatting to the unfortunate Duncan Jones on a bench in the sun this morning when the media besieged him.

Having already been more than co-operative to all and sundry yesterday, Hansen again obliged on questions about England before disappearing rapidly 'before I get asked any more questions', as he put it.

The Aussie media are having a field day. The Australian set the tone, the front page of its sporting edition claiming: 'Samoa made the World Cup about pride and talent rather than just money and sports science.'

Most people were shocked when Jonny Wilkinson missed a kick from anywhere, never mind from in front of the posts.

He has been hailed here as some kind of superman, one double page spread on Sunday calling him the world's biggest rugby union star who earns three times as much as his nearest rival.

Former Aussie World Cup winning coach Rod MacQueen and captain John Eales lead the tributes. 'He's the ultimate professional,' said Mac-Queen.

'There's no question he's a fantastic player and he's the biggest star of the World Cup,' said Eales.

Both comments were made before he Samoa match.

Max Boyce, who has spent quite a bit of time with us filming, is going down well here. His concert at the world renowned Sydney Opera House tonight is a sell-out, and the Sydney Morning Herald today publishes lyrics from Hymns and Arias.

But they do add a bit acidly how the song is about 'the Welsh love of rugby, singing, beer and beating the English which made him famous 30 years ago, back when Welsh rugby was a world force'.

Can't argue with the accuracy of any of that!

The good news: this diary could well have been the last. The bad news: it will now continue as long as Wales are in the World Cup.

A few of us chose to spend the bit of free time we had on Saturday before the Italy game going on what we thought would be a leisurely cruise around Canberra's Lake Burley Griffin which our hotel overlooks.

The start was calm enough, but then the rain started and, too late to go back, a real storm broke out, the one you may have seen on The News that produced hailstones the size of mini-footballs up in the Blue Mountains.

The lake became, to me at least, a pretty rough torrent.

As I said in Saturday's diary, I'm not a swimmer. With the rain lashing down, the wind getting up and the boat a bit frail I think my colleagues started to see the whites of my eyes.

'You'd better start unravelling the lifejacket' said one, observing my panic, while our man from The Times got his own back for my delight at his being confused with a Carmarthen-shire Times reporter the week before by offering to write my next diary for me - posthumously.