Lazy wasps and the fish boys

Settling back into life in Caunes Minervois after a 2 week trip to England hasn’t been hard. Not much changed while we were away. The boulangerie has taken on a new assistant, the pool seems to have sprung a bit of a leak,  the hazelnuts have ripened and popped out of their frilly pods and have fallen onto the floor, we are over run with tomatoes and courgettes from my hastily erected  trial veg patch and we found a little wasps nest in one of the aloe vera that proved fascinating to 4 year old Dexter.

We have lots of visitors, some who are making their second visit of the year….which is great as they clearly love the place just like we do.

On a really hot day, we left the pool and ventured to a lake in the Black Mountains, near Mazamet, where it was a few degrees cooler and surprisingly uncrowded.

After the excitement of le Tour and then the Olympics in London, all has settled into a simple quiet routine again. It is perhaps the lull before the storm as our next trip back to England will involve our eldest daughter’s (technically…. Mark’s daughter ) wedding. So, we are making the most of the lazing around in the heat time, and enjoying watching the grandchildren turn into fish as they gain confidence in the pool.

Olympics: part 2

I am still buzzing from the experience of being in the athletics stadium at London 2012’s Olympic park, last Friday and Saturday.

I have already posted about the overall organisation, and the incredibly joyful atmosphere that has reigned over east London during the last 2 weeks, so I am now taking the opportunity to post a few more photos and thoughts in an attempt to share the experience.

We were lucky enough to have acquired 8 tickets from the first ballot last year, for athletics, over 2 days as well as 2 tickets for boxing. Mark and I went to the athletics on both days, and gave our other tickets (2 for each of the athletic days, and the boxing tickets) to our daughters. (Our son and his wife were not able to get babysitters, so couldn’t come too.....hence Mark and I went twice).

we took our seats early, and watched the stadium fill up

the velodrome

All this meant that we were in the stadium on the evening that Ennis won gold in the heptathlon, Rutherford won the long jump, and Mo Farah won the 10,000 metres. We had great seats, with an excellent view of the finishing line, and we could feel the heat from the flame.

We also sat just behind a woman who delighted us by telling us she had been at Wembley in 1948, as a 7 year old child...so this was her 2^nd  London Olympics.

I have already posted about how tremendously uplifting the atmosphere was, and how goodwill to all was apparent everywhere.  For me, such a positive spirit of camaraderie, where each athlete’s efforts were supported and cheered, was by far the best bit. While I could wax on about atmosphere and happy fans for ages, I do want to share a little of the excitement we felt from what we actually witnessed in the stadium.

Jess Ennis was clearly the darling of the crowd. We watched her shot put and 200 metres on Friday, and then on Saturday night, with one event left, the 800 metres, she was poised to win the heptathlon. It seemed that as long as she turned up, and didn’t break a leg going round, the gold was hers. It was, and she was determined to give the crowd something to cheer about as she crossed the line first, despite only needing to finish in the pack. The roar was amazing. I can honestly say I have never heard anything like it.

Jess Ennis, about to cross the line in the final event....to win gold

Greg Rutherford then went on to win gold for Britain in the long jump, and when Mo Farah crossed the line in first place in the 10,000 metres, I thought the stadium would explode. He hugged the other Brit in the race, his daughter ran onto the track, he hugged her, then his very pregnant wife appeared on the track and everyone was cheering, crying, flag waving and generally involved with the extreme emotion of the whole occasion.

The climax of Saturday’s session was the 100 metres women’s final....no Brit running, but you would not have known that from the noise in the stadium. It had been the same the night before when a tiny Ethiopian woman stormed to victory in the women’s 10,000 metres.  The crowd roared in encouragement and delight at winners, and those that finished miles behind the winners. Lapped runners in the 10,000 were applauded with as much vigour as those that led the race.

The noise, the sheer power of all that effort,  the pure emotion and joy will live with Mark and I for a long time.

I dont know who she is...but I felt like she looks.....all day.

Olympic tale: part 1

When interviewed on a local Wisconsin radio station on the 4^th July 28 years ago, I told the interviewer that as a European, I struggled with the idea of patriotism as it often felt like nationalism which has so many negative connotations.

My planned trip to the Olympics in London 2012 , whilst eagerly anticipated, was viewed with some cynicism related to the expected hoo ha of patriotic fervour, massive crowds, awful transportation infra-structure, oppressive security measures and the prominence of sponsorship deals with MacDonalds, Coca- cola and Visa.

I want to post about the sporting achievements I saw later.( I was one of the 80,000 to be in the athletics stadium on the day Ennis, Rutherford and Farah won their gold medals within 45 minutes of each other). Today I want to concentrate on the powerful feelings of pride and joy the trip has left with me.

First: The transportation system was faultless. Everything worked perfectly, trains, information, volunteers providing directions....it could not have been better. We walked from one train to the next, they were clean, rarely crowded and there were plenty of them.

Second: Olympic Park was beautiful. The stadium architecture was interesting, the planting of millions of wild flowers was an ingenious idea and despite the biggest MacDonalds in the world, it was possible to avoid it and eat other food. My fears about oppressive security were also unfounded. Pleasant and smiling security people checked bags and wished us a great day, quickly and efficiently. No real queues and no hassle at all.

Third: The volunteers were astounding. They were everywhere, providing information, directions, humour and smiles by the mile.

Fourth: The crowd was the best part. Everyone seemed thrilled to be there. Costumes and flags were in abundance. Communication between fans in various languages took place everywhere, with smiling as the universally understood sign.

Here is some of the evidence:

Cynicism abandoned, and a childlike wish that all nations could be as happy together as they seemed during our fabulous two days at the Olympics of London 2012.

Hebden Bridge floods and recovery

A quick post..... I’m back in Hebden Bridge, about to set off for London and the Olympic park. I walked into Hebden Bridge this morning and was shocked at the damage that the recent floods had done. So many of the great little independent shops in the town are now closed. Some are hoping to re open soon, others are temporarily relocating thanks to kind offers from other property owners. Some of the photos I took are sad, and some are full of the hope and enthusiasm that helps make this town so special.

This is my favourite......"only in Hebden Bridge "

Dad missed the Olympics

While many people I know are either escaping from England during the Olympics, or locking themselves in their homes, or friends’ homes, as far from London as possible, we are returning from France for the spectacle. Despite my passion for watching cycling I have always considered I am not interested in sport.

I can’t catch a ball, and was always the last to be picked for teams playing anything at school. In fact, after a bout of pleurisy at 15, I had a note from my mother, excusing me from P.E. lessons at school which included the magical phrase

 “Janice shouldn’t partake in PE lessons for some time, owing to her health”.

 I carried this around for the 3 years remaining at school, and never partook again.

Somehow, over the years I have become an interested spectator. I enjoy the atmosphere of live football (soccer, and American football) matches, where I care about the outcome….so Huddersfield Town getting promoted a division last season sparked some interest. I have only seen one Green Bay Packers game live…..but it was an incredible spectacle.

Even as a stroppy 15 year old who hated sport, I recall skipping school to visit Wimbledon, queuing for standing tickets in the days before centre court was all seats, and then worrying about TV coverage and being spotted in the crowd when I should have been at school. Lew Hoad turned and smiled at me, when I applauded a shot on one of the outside practice courts in 1970. Now of course, Nadal has replaced Hoad and Rosewall in my affections.

I have perfected the same half interested way of questioning my husband about his golf games as my mother did when she pretended to care how dad had got on……however, I find myself  looking forward to the Ryder Cup every 2 years.

 

Cricket has also become something of a fascination. It’s the 5 day nature of test matches that I find absorbing. The tactics, the pace, the rhythm, and recognising that even over 5 days, every ball bowled is important….. it all has me hooked. Travelling to Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide and Perth to watch us lose and then win the Ashes over the last few years has helped cement my interest. I haven’t been to a Brisbane test yet….. something to be remedied I suspect. We’re off to India this November and will include the Kolkata test in our travels.

So….the London Olympics……

My father was an amateur athlete in his youth. During his national service stint he spent time in Berlin (during the airlift…..another story), and trained in the somewhat derelict at that time, Olympic stadium, used for the 1936 Olympics. This was the stadium where Jesse Owens upset Hitler’s applecart by winning a couple of gold medals despite not being blond and blue eyed. Ironically, my father, who loved athletics, missed the 1948 London Olympics as he was in Berlin. Had he been at home, he could almost have walked to Wembley stadium from his north London home in Hendon. So he missed London 1948, and died 5 years ago…..but as least he knew GB had won the bid to hold the games in 2012.

Dad, at the Berlin Olympic Stadium, 1948

We have some athletics tickets, and have shared them out amongst our children ( those who have managed to secure babysitting services for the appointed days) and will be among the thousands of people held up in dreadful traffic and travel problems, security nightmares, toilet queues, pouring rain, etc. etc……..but I am looking forward to it.

So…..I’m not interested in sport……except when I am.