Okay. So I’ll admit we Brits can be cynical, snobbish and hard to understand plus all the rest of our faults, but I have to tell you that right at this moment I am very proud to be British.
I feel obliged to include another national characteristic and apologise over my blatant patriotism and assure you I won’t be offended if you stop reading right here, but if you wish to read on, I have to tell you that I’ve just been watching the Victory Parade being held for our Olympic and Paralympic competitors in London.
The streets on the route are jam packed. Mingling with the public are the Police, the Army, Navy, Air Force; thousands of volunteers from both events and thousands upon thousands of people, black, white and all the shades in between. They are all happy, smiling and relaxed. The police are handing their helmets to kiddies, soldiers are waving and laughing and should be proud at the brilliant job they did taking over from an inept security company.
I have seen a lot of events on the streets of London, but today I can honestly say there seems to be bigger crowds than when the Queen is having an event.
It’s bloody fantastic!
The memories I’ll carry away don’t involve us winning golds. The first is my tears during the Olympic Torch journey with a very badly injured soldier, brain damaged and with artificial legs grimly determined to complete his bit of the course [I will never, ever forget him.] Humour at the opening ceremony with the Queen taking part in a skit about parachuting in with James Bond; awe and humility seeing one legged guys hopping up to the high jump bar and throwing themselves over it; hope at hearing our politicians being booed four times at the paralympics arena and no doubt if the games were still on, more would have been included, and finally pride that we did it and did it well!
There is still a Great in Great Britain, Di!
Hey, why not? We’ve had a great summer. And it’s all been pure fun. (Well, maybe apart from Paul MacCartney singing live, if that’s the word.)
French friend’s been laughing and crying in turns, said it’s why she loves living in London. Her elder brother — like the rest of her family, lives in Paris—was here the first week of the Olympics, and finally got it. Even he, to general astonishment and gobsmackery, said “We—the French—could never have done this.”
Squirell:
I think the Jubilee concert was best forgotten. Sir Cliff was even more off key than Sir Paul. Otherwise you’re right. It’s been a great summer.
What with all the excitement and all, I only just now got round to reading this, Di.
Some lovely imagery there. Very nice. Not many things would tempt me to make the journey back, but stuff like that is definitely one of them.
Blighty did a damn fine job of the Olympics by every account I have seen to date. The Paralympics too.
Every account. Not often one sees that in today’s world.
Gunny:
It’s a shame they didn’t televise more especially of the Paralympics.
The road cycling races in the regular Olympics were some of the first contests to take place, and suddenly your heart lifted and you knew it was going to be okay. Thousands upon thousands of people lining the route even though we were having heavy, heavy showers that day…
The Paralympics had the most beautiful weather. The best two weeks of the year, which was an added bonus. And seeing the Stadium, filled to capacity every day suddenly justified its cost.