It probably hasn’t escaped your attention (though you may wish it had) that the World Cup begins this weekend. That’s the men’s football World Cup, of course – which means four weeks and 64 matches of sweaty blokes rolling around with pretend injuries while occasionally scoring a goal or two; this time, unusually, amid the desert warmth of Qatar.
But let’s imagine, for a moment, that the tournament wasn’t about football. Let’s say that it was a World Cup of Travel. Involving…