A day at the Olympics

I’m not a huge follower of sport. ­In England, ‘sport’ all too often means ‘football’: an endless stream of the same old matches between the same old teams, full of players that earn millions yet can’t afford a little civility. Full of trite old clichés. I can handle those myself.

As such, my sporting activity is usually restricted to my own efforts to stay in (reasonable) shape. With that in mind, as London 2012 approached I was just hoping it all went without a hitch, reflected well on the nation, and didn’t keep me waiting too long at Tower Bridge each morning; it hadn’t occurred to me I could actually get excited about all the sporting events that come with it.

Well, that was foolish.

As we all now know, London 2012 was something of a triumph, transcending its individual events to become a wider celebration – both of the human spirit, and of the country putting the whole show on. The fact I’ve just written that sentence is testimony to what a remarkable experience it was.

Seriously, I’m no jingoistic tub-thumper blind to our country’s failings, so it was lovely to see us getting something so very right for a change. For a few golden weeks, we caught a glimpse of a gripe-free nation. As unsustainable as that is with our weather/government/mindset/weather, what fresh air it was.

The shots on this post come from my own day out at London 2012. We went to see the beach volleyball at Horse Guard’s Parade and the Women’s Triathlon around Hyde Park, both characterised by ridiculously good atmosphere and people talking to each other. In London! If only we were like this all the time…




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