And in the beginning, there was an idea.

My name is Patrick. I’m 28, a north Londoner, and – at best – a casual football fan. I live one and a half miles from White Hart Lane, two and a half from the Emirates, but I just ain’t that bothered about either Arsenal or Spurs. The extent of my thinking runs, “well, at least they’re not Chelsea” – but truth be told, under normal circumstances, I just ain’t all that bothered about football.

But these are not normal circumstances. This isn’t just any Thursday night. It’s the Thursday night before the 2010 World Cup kicks off and, no matter how many years of hurt, that still makes my heart beat a little faster. And somewhere on the way back from work, I had a great idea.

My mates don’t know about it. My girlfriend doesn’t know about it. My employer certainly doesn’t know about it. But they will. Oh, they will.

The idea is this. I can’t be in South Africa, so I’m going to do the next best thing, by spending the next 31 days hunting out 32 of multicultural London’s finest establishments, watching every country that’s competing in this global spectacle with a 'home' crowd in a native bar. Of course, this being 2010, I’m going to justify it all by writing and photoblogging about each place, the drinks they serve and the supporters I drink them with.

Of course, I’ve no idea if this is possible. The more I think about it, the more I realise that I don’t know. I don’t know if there’s a North Korean bar in London (but if there is, I bet they serve a mean lager).

I don’t know if somebody or bodies else are doing it. (Probably Danny Wallace, isn’t it. Damn you, Danny Wallace.)

I don’t know whether the World Cup schedules will make it possible since I have a proper job, one that I’d really rather not lose.

The other thing I’d prefer not to lose would be the girlfriend.

Well, there’s another big unknown right there.

Still, of one thing at least, I am confident. Utterly, barkingly, Jose Mourinho-style confident. At least a couple of my damn foolhardy, brilliant friends will want to be there for every pint on the way.

Right? Guys?