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| The Olympic Torch passes Canterbury Cathedral |
In the next few days
the 2012 Olympic Games will start in London. Media hype is in full swing, and the weather is finally relenting. As I write, there is blue sky
outside, the first we’ve seen for a while.
Unfortunately, the Olympics have not
yet engendered much of an optimistic mood in Britain. Partly it
is the weather, partly the lousy state of the economy (with everyone, including bankers, in fear for their jobs) and partly the unprecedented
censorship that has descended in the wake of the IOC. The Games are represented in the media as
security theatre more than a festival of sport.
Boris Johnson
(hizzoner the Mayor of London) is doing his best: jokey, upbeat
recorded announcements greet passengers on the Underground; his speeches
and
interviews present relentless optimism. Hitherto, however, I’ve noticed
little real anticipation for the first Olympiad to be held in the UK in
most people's lifetimes.
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| Tower Bridge and the Rings |
I was in London for a
meeting recently, and took the opportunity to pop out onto London Bridge to get
a snap down the river of the Olympic rings dangling from Tower Bridge. The
grey, lowering clouds above the scene seemed to sum up the pervasively
miserable mood.
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| Rockefeller Plaza, July 4, 2005 |
It is all a far cry
from when London was awarded the Olympics in 2005. At the time, I was working
in New York, so missed out on the celebrations in the UK. In New York, though,
the whole feeling was very muted: my colleagues, at least, showed no interest
in Manhattan being taken over for the Games. I got the impression that New
Yorkers thought it was generally a good thing the Olympics were going somewhere
else. So now they’ve arrived here.
Standing in stark contrast to the broader zeitgeist, however, is the Olympic Torch. As it has made it's journey around the UK it has attracted crowds everywhere and generated real enthusiasm among most people I know.
I have very mixed feelings about
the Torch, given its
origins; however, bearing in mind that (a) the runners carrying
it have been selected as recognition for the contribution they’ve made to their
communities and (b) my next door neighbour, a silversmith, was involved in the
development and fabrication of this year's model, I’m doing my best to share the enthusiasm (still
doesn’t sit easily, somehow).
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| A day to remember |
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| Palace Street spectators |
On the afternoon the
Torch came though Canterbury, the building where I work emptied as people went
downtown. I joined the crowds in
Palace Street an hour in advance to grab a
spot of pavement, before it was entirely overrun. I chose Palace Street in order to give my pictures a
sense of place: it is one of the few places on the
route with a clear view of the Cathedral in the background.
Canterbury was
packed – beyond anything I’d expected. I think the occupants of every office
and shop must have come out. Most of all, there were foreign students
everywhere: Canterbury has always hosted hordes of continental students, and they were
out in force.
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| Wiggly worms |
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| Selling flags in aid of Help for Heroes |
While we waited for
the Torch, all sorts of vendors patrolled up and down the road, selling flags,
whistles, toy medals and blow up objects described with wild imagination as
“Olympic Torches”.
The whole thing was distinctly
Ankh Morpork in flavour: all that was missing
was
Mr Dibbler and his sausages.
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| Torch party approaching |
By the time the Torch
party came up the road, it was packed; the stewards and police pretty much gave
up on trying to keep everyone on the pavement – it was a bit like one of those
roads on the Tour de France where all the spectators crowd in on the
competitors.
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| Coming through |
The Torch carrier,
surrounded by police in grey athletic-style uniforms, hoofed through at high
speed, as if trying to avoid being completely swamped. Blink and you
missed it. I had time for just a couple of very quick snaps – and then it was
gone.
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| Canterbury crowds |
The crowds slowly
dispersed, or, rather, melded together; the road simply disappeared under the
mass of humanity. I made my way back through the hordes to the car and on to work, taking some
snaps along the way.
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| Pictures from a window |
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| Tourists and Morris dancers |
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| Maybe Mr Dibbler has a new line |
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| No Olympic rings for Canterbury 2012 |
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| Drum band outside the Marlow Theatre |
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| Maybe we will all have a party this summer |
It was clear that
people really had enjoyed the occasion; there was a party mood, even if most
people only saw the Torch itself for two seconds. The sun was out, and the
great festival of sport is on it way. Maybe we’re going to have a good time
after all.
