Olympic Stream of Consciousness: Rowing

Marne looks delightful. Two English commentators with London accents; one, who sounds a lot like Danny Dyer but is actually Martin Cross, has all the goss from the village and knows about the lucky socks and how they pack a suitcase. The repercharge or row-off is a strange qualification process - allowing competitors another go to get into the final. In the second Women's Double Sculls Semi Final, the GB team have a brilliant row, but the Romanians come storming home to win. Norway burgle third and the Aussies are out, so don't expect to see that final shown on the television. As the athletes are introduced in their boats they have to make a decision as to whether to wave to the crowd or not - it's a thing. 

The Women's Quadruple Sculls Final is one of the best events on the programme - not just because GBR win, but because the quality of the racing is so good and is described as 'one of the all-time great comeback finsihes'. One of the British crew - Georgina Brayshaw - made a comeback from a broken back and a coma after a horseriding accident. There's a bit of this going on. The Dutch rower, Marloes Oldenburg, is a member of the gold-winning Women's Four crew after breaking her back in a mountainbiking incident two years ago. Meanwhile, Martin Cross says of the Women's Double Sculls final (NZL/ROU/GBR), 'I don't know if we've got room for any more excitement.' 

In the Men's Double Sculls, the position changes many times before Romania win and both stand up in the boat after they cross the line, which seems like showing off - I'm just jealous of the balance. The Women's Four is incredibly close with just 0.18 seconds separating the gold (NED) and silver (GBR) with NZL in third, while Team GB have a terrible start in the Men's Four but a solid middle to finish third (USA gold; NZL silver). In the Men's Pair, the Brits are burgled by the Croatians (the innappropriately-named Sinkovich brothers) as Tom George catches a crab in the final five strokes and come second by less than half a second. Switzerland come third, but Martin Cross speaks for many of us as he admits, "I wasn't even watching the bronze. Apologies." The Netherlands blitz the Women's Pair race and are imperious as they finish lengths ahead, before the Romanians (who win silver) have to sprint back to compete in other races. 

This is the last time the lightweight double sculls will be in the Olympics, since being introduced in 1996. The men's is won by the Irish defending their gold from Tokyo, with shamrocks on their blades. Paul O'Donovan apparently has a most unusual thumb technique, but Martin Cross tells us he is "always one for the interviews", so I suppose he's full of details like that. He notes the difference between his training course at home and this one in Paris is that "it's the same length, but there's a big grandstand and a fancy paint job". They are very excited about having endured their last weigh-in and being taken out by the French lads for baguettes and wine. Meanwhile the Women's Lightweight Double Sculls (in which the rowers may not exceed 57kg) is won by Great Britain (Romania second and Greece third).

The Netherlands win the Women's Single Sculls by a boat length, while the Men's Single Sculls is delayed due to traffic and the fact that the competitors are still on the bus. When they do complete their race, Germany take gold (Oliver Zeidler is arguably the best sculler in the world) and AIN come second. This is a neutral athlete (mainly Russian or Belarussian) who is unable to comete for their country because that country is banned from the Olympics. In this case, Yauheni Zalaty (born in Belarus) was last with 500m to go, until a storming finish. No resting for the Romanians, as they are back in the Women's Eight and they win another gold - four were also in the Four; one was in the Pair; two in the Double Sculls - how's that for a maths question set up? And in the final event on the rowing programme, GBR win the Men's Eight, and clearly all my hard work yelling at the television screen has paid off.

Friday Five (Actually Twelve): Paris Olympics 2024 Opening Ceremony

Let's start with the opening ceremony. Wow; c'était fou! I loved it. There has been a lot of talk about it being disorganised and chaotic, but I loved the madcap nature of the event as it showcased Paris as it is, and if you don't like it, tant pis - which is as French as you get.

Firstly, it is the first time in the history of the Summer Games that the Opening Ceremony did not take place in a stadium. The idea was that it would bring the sports to the city; the athletes travelled down the Seine in a variety of boats, and the punters lined the quays (or les rives) for free to cheer on the participants and to enjoy the spectacle. Yes, it rained, but so what? It rains in France. There was a nice touch with a tri-coloured 'water fountain' smoke above one of the bridges, although there was some poor bloke strapped above it with an accordion and wings getting absolutely drenched.

The boats were an inspired touch. The flotilla appeared in French alphabetical order, which was fun to remember that Germany is L'Allemagne and Spain is Espagne. Several people in the Twitterverse were getting very confused, which is also fun. They were complaining that there was no Les Etats Unis or Australie, until it was pointed out that the next Olympics are in Los Angeles and the 2032 event in Brisbane, so those hosting countries are second last and third last respectively, before France brings up the rear.

All the boats are different shapes and sizes, looking like a reverse Dunkirk affair - the Americans have the biggest and flashiest; the French have the most stylish; and Bhutan have the most expensive - the three athletes representing Bhutan are aboard a 1964 vintage Murano, 'a Riva Yachts Venetian limousine tender built in mahogany and varnished to a high sheen'. 

Brazil have a party boat, the Cambodian craft looks like it is about to get swamped, and the patched-up Refugee Olympic Team vessel would have been turned back by Tony Abbott. Many nations have to share with each other. Team GB (Tom Daly and Helen Glover doing flag waving duty and obligatory Titanic pose) share with Grenada, Guam and Guatemala. Because the TV commentators have absolutely no clue what is happening (other than that it is raining), they revert to their notes frequently. Hence I learn that Guatemala is one of the few countries to have won more Nobel prizes than Olympic medals, Lichtenstein's national anthem is the same tune as God Save the King, and Nepal is the only country in the world with a non-quadrilateral flag.

The athletes are all proudly wearing their national outfits (Belgium are either all in red, yellow or black; the Bermudans wear shorts that in Bermuda they probably just call 'shorts'), although as the day wears on and the rain increases many of them cover them up with fetching plastic ponchos. Bulgaria looks like they are about to go to war; Burkina Faso have good hats; Naby Keita is the flag bearer for Guinea; according to the commentators Guinea-Bissau is one of the 'new countries' who have never won a medal; insights into the Italians (in outfits by Armani) is that theirs is a country of 'great people; great food'.

Mongolia have the best uniforms; Mozambique are wearing pop art jackets; the folk from Niger all salute as they sail past; Slovenia are literally bouncing, as are Sudan in a very small boat (not sure the optics are great on that one); USA, of course, has the largest contingent (over 500 athletes) and appear to be navigating the Seine on a cruise ship; France has the nicest boat, which is gleaming white and all lit up like an ocean liner.

The ceremony was divided into sections to give it a rough thematic element. I shall try and explain what occured in some of them, but (due to the commentators not having a clue what was going on), I may well get some of this completely confused. Throughout it all there was some mysterious parcours torch bearer, who nicked the torch from a bunch of kids and then nipped about with it on the roof tops.

1. Enchanté - a sort of pink section in which Lady Gaga does a turn with flaming galas, fans and large pom-poms, which are apparently a girl's best friend as she imitates a French Marilyn Monroe, walking down golden steps with art nouveau Paris metro signs. It's all about 'culture, spirit and personality' apparently. There are dancers wearing cellophane hats and doing the can-can, which appears hugely out of time but that could be due to the way that sound (and light) travels in waves. There is a rugby sevens lift in a section called 'chic' and a tribute to French characters over the years, only marginally marred by the fact that no one appears to know who they are. The parcours ninja dude is now on a zipline.

2. Synchronicité - there is a tribute to the workers who are restoring Notre Dame, involving much pirouetting and dancing on scaffolding. A golden wave is depicted on the buildings alongside the quay while an orchestra is back-lit in a window. We learn there is a special Louis Vitton case for the medals and that each one contains a piece of the Eiffel Tower, which must make one a little wary of climbing it now (or in fact of being anywhere near it), in case it falls down, what with all those bits removed. The medals are carried down the river in a boat manned by Martin Foucard (former biathlete and most successful French Winter Olympian of all time) and Michael Phelps - at least he can swim to collect the medals if they fall in.  There's more celebrations of French craftspeople, some damp breakdancing on a pontoon in the river and a spot of ballet on the rooftops. More footage of Notre Dame, with a hunchback on the spire and a few Les Miserables references (that's Victor Hugo covered). 

3. Liberté - and now we come to the revolution - oh, those crazy French celebrating decapitated bodies. The windows are full of headless Marie Antoinettes (the parcours dude watches on from across the river) with pyrotechnics, rock music (Gojira performing Mea Culpa (Ah Ca Ira) which is utterly fabulous), a woman singing opera (possibly The Marriage of Figaro) in the prow of a golden barge, blood red streamers being fired out of cannons, and people on poles above the Pont des Arts (the bridge with all the padlocks) à la Kate Miller-Heidke's Eurovision performance. Then cut to a quiet section in a library promoting love and literature, Verlaine in Harlequin outfits, wafting paper, references to Guy de Maupassant, Raymond Radiguet, Moliere, Choleros de Laclos and Marivaux, a chap on a highwire, the bright colours of the Pompidou Centre and non-too subtle allusions to love beween same sex couples and a menage a trois before a heart appears in the sky over l'ile de la cite.

4. Egalité - This is represented by a brass band in military uniform marching across a bridge. The parcours bloke runs past and lights up a building; a golden catwalk appears on which there is RnB pop performed to the accompaniment of the military band. 

5. Fraternité - The parcours chap is now in the Louvre (we had to go there) and he runs past various masterpieces, where the figures contained within the frames turn to look at him. Next thing, there are empty canvases, as all the people have popped out to head to the windows and overlook the river procession, where the athletes are now all shrouded in fetching plastic ponchos and some poor bloke is playing the piano in the driving rain which is literally bouncing off the keyboard. But wait, what's this? Oh no! La Gioconda has disparu! A periscope pops up and we discover that the Minions have stolen the painting and are doing field sports in a submarine. One of them throws a javelin which bursts the walls of the vessel, which floods and they all end up floating on the surface. We see through the spectacular clock face on the Musée d'Orsay and suddenly there is a balloon which floats up to the moon with the bullet casing in its eye (nod to Jules Verne) and Le Petit Prince is also there. This all culminates in a beautiful verion of La Marseillaise atop Le Grand Palais performed by mezzo-soprano Axelle Saint-Cirel.

6. Sororité - After the men, we have the women (plus ça change... but at least we have them). Famous iconic faces emerge from the water, echoed by golden statues on the quay. These include Olympe de Gouges (woman of letters, politican and activist; best known for her Declaration of the Rights of Women and The Female Citizen written in 1791 during the French Revolution; campaigned for the abolition of slavery and was guillotined in 1793), Alice Milliat (1884-1957; pioneer of women's sport whose successful lobbying on behalf of female athletes led to the inclusion of many more sports within the Olympic Games), Gisèle Halimi (1927-2020; lawyer, politician, essayist and activist; former deputy of the French National Assembly), Paulette Nardal (1896-1985; writer and journalist who became the first black woman to study at the Sorbonne), Jeanne Barret (1740-1807; the first woman to circumnavigate the globe - I read a great book about her by Glynis Ridley called The Discovery of Jeanne Barret), Chrsitine de Pizan (1364-1431; philosopher and poet and the first author to make a living from writing, among other works she wrote La Cité des Dames in which she extolled illustrious women and imagined a female government), Louise Michel (1830-1905; teacher, writer and feminist activist who took an active part in the events of the Paris Commune in 1871. She was deported to New Caledonia where she continued her fight against French colonialism), Alice Guy (1973-1968; one of the world's first female directors, her film La Feé aux Choux is considered the first narrative film), and Simone Veil (1927-2017; Holocaust survivor, politician and advocate for women's rights, particularly known for legalising abortion in France). We were also meant to have Simone de Beauvoir (1908-1986; philosopher, writer and feminist theorist most famous for writing Le Deuxièm Sexe), but her pedestal failed to rise due to technical difficulties, which I am trying desparately hard not to see as a metaphor.

7. Sportivité - We have BMX, breakdancing, and skipping on a skate park designed to look like those exquisite French manicured lawns with topiary and everything. This is the section where they let the kids take charge; they dance in white outfits, Napoleon hats and Pierrot costumes; there are dancers with hoops and ribbons, skateboards and basketballs. No one thinks this is good except their parents. There is an opera singing breaker, an Algerian-French rapper (Rim'K) giving it large about how he doesn't want to be a super hero; just a super human, and lots of pretty light fountains. It actually all looks formidable from above with all the lights and the bridges lit with red, white and blue in strobe flashes. 

8. Festivité - Ok, now this is one of the maddest bits of the cermony. A large bloke looks like a smurf lying in the middle of a fruit platter, while a drag-queen/ transvestite cohort cavort around them. It is meant to represent a feast in the spirit of the gods of Olympus and blue guy is Dionysis, god of wine, winemaking, fertility, festivity, madness and theatre (we know how those things go together, right?). It is meant to celebrate the tolerance and inclusion of the games, but already people are outraged that is is mocking Christianity and taking a swipe at The Last Supper. I mean, it possibly is; after all, all myths are connested, n'est-ce pas? To a sort of Jean-Michel Jarre-esque vibe we then have a catwalk on the footbridge where models (many of whom have a disability for inclusion and so we can allude to the Paralympics) strut their stuff. The designers are emerging artists and apparently iconic pieces from the collection will be available after the ceremony. Of course the parcours dude gets a look in here as well. The spectators all then get up and dance on the bridge and everyone has a jolly time. 

9. Obscurité - The final countdown begins and as the stars of the European Union flag swirl around the Eiffel Tower, we get the banging beats of a techno dance part mixed with ballet. The house piano of Ride on Time and Be My Lover is throbbing through the city as 'caught up in the turmoil and faced with worries of the future, the young dance'. The theme of this opening ceremony is Ensemble unis pour la paix (we stand together and call for peace), which is apparently symbolised by a couple singing Imagine on a raft while their piano catches fire.

10. Solidarité - the parcours bloke is now on a metal horse with the Olympic flag which he parades down the middle of the river as if skimming across the water. With the glam rock music, the digital wings spreading out above the bridges, and the laser lighting effects, this bit is very impressive and it occurs to me that I have assumed the parcours chap is a chap, when in fact there is every possibility that they are Joan of Arc, or even the spirit of the Seine, Sequana. There is a tribute to former French Olympians and then many flag bearers carry their emblems beneath the Eiffel Tower. A real horse (with a rider) clip-clops across the bridge and a chivalric knight carries the Olympic flag up the steps onto an Eiffel-tower shaped stage. The flag is promptly raised and as it unfurls, it is noted that it is upside down. Oops. A choir sings the anthem of the Olympics (of course it has one) - the kids haven't got the words but the adults have and their sheet music is soaking.

11. Solemnité - A segment attempts to show where they are getting those bits of the Eiffel Tower from (still deeply concerning) and then men in blue suits do speeches and swear Olympic oaths. The parcours dude comes up through the floor (it wasn't them on the horse after all; still deeply confusing) and hands the torch to Zizou, who passes it off to Raffa (no, he's not French but he is 14x winner at Roland Garos). Lights roam up and down the Eiffel Tower, with beams and sweeping arcs, that structure looks like it's dancing. She is stunning and magnifique. Raffa takes the torch back off down the river while the iron giraffe parties on. He's on a boat with Serena Williams (trying to wave but looking very ill), Carl Lewis and Nadia Comăneci. Meanwhile, back on the Trocadero stage a dancer and sign language interpreter perform Marc Cerrone's Supernature, and then disappear through the trapdoor through which parcours dude arrived earlier. Now Amélie Mauresmo has the torch (tennis players are everywhere), then Tony Parker (basketball), before being joined by a trio of  Paralympic Champions, Nantenin Keita, Alexis Hanquinquant and Marie-Amélie Le Fur. 

12. Eternité - the torch makes its way through the Carrousel du Louvre forecourt, the Tuileries and the Arc de Triomphe, passing through hands very quickly (they get about ten seconds each before they fall into a formation) and continue to a big balloon. The final leg of the relay is taken by Charles Coste, a French Olympic champion who was part of the cycling team pursuit in 1948. Born in 1924 (the year Paris last held the Olympics) the centurian is the oldest living French Olympic champion. He lights the torches of Teddy Rinner (judo) and Marie-José Pérec (sprinter) who light the cauldron, a ring of many LEDs and high pressure water sprays, which make the hydrogen-gas filled balloon rise into the night sky. It's tethered so it doesn't float off, and the French are very proud that it is the first Olympic cauldron to light up without the use of fossil fuels. The balloon is a nod to French inventors (particularly the Montgolfier brothers), and the spirit of daring and creativity. 

Epilogue - Céline Dion belts out a version of Edith Piaf's Hyme à l'amour from Level One of the Eiffel Tower. It's a stunning performance, note perfect with shades of Evita, and then it's all over. You're welcome.

My Newest Favourite Thing: Charles Billich

When we were last in Sydney, we saw a beautiful building near the Harbour Bridge. It used to be a place for sailors to sleep; now it houses some spectacular art by Charles Billich. The canvases are crowded with images, real and imagined from the past, present and future. Cityscapes of Sydney, London, Paris, or Shanghai are vibrant and busy, juxtaposing iconic representations in a playful pastiche. As the official artist of Regatta Day, he delights in painting the Sydney waterfront, and as he is so close to it, it would seem contrary not to.

The gallery owner tells me that that the pictures don't date because they are often not real anyway. On hearing we lived in Canberra, she rushed to show us a print he had created of the capital. 

As well as cities and architecture, Billich's subjects include theatrical pursuits such as drama, ballet and orchestras, and sport - lots of sport. He was named the artist of the 1996 Olympic Games and in 2000 was the recipient of the Sport Artist of the Year Award presented annually by the American Sport Art Museum and Archives. The sports most represented in this gallery are racing, both of horses and motor cars. Billich captures the proud equine spirit brilliantly, and the paintings seem to burst to life; The World of Polo is a study of movement as realism melds into fantasy.

His Olympic portraits are stunning and often incorporate gold leaf, which shimmers from the walls and (I am assured) have no need for special gallery lighting to enhance their visual charms. Inspired by his work, The Beijing Cityscape, the official image for the successful Beijing bid to host the 2008 Olympic Games, Billich conceived a series of images based on the Bing Ma Yong Terracotta Warriors, engaged in sporting pursuits including fencing, rowing and archery.

Chinese masters also indulge in a series of games such as chess and other contests of skill in Billich's art. He also paints humanitarian pieces and works of religious significance. From landscapes to portraiture, classicism to eroticism, Billich has a wide and varied range of subject matter, to which he brings his inimitable style. The canvases are large and impressive, as are their price tags. A print of the Sochi Olympics is $200,000. At least looking is free.

Great Walls and Fire! Museum of London (Part One)

The Museum of London had been recommended to me by my super-in-law, so I took a tube there one day while in the city.

As the Olympics have been held in London three times, and everyone has caught the fever, there was an exhibition in the foyer on the subject. This one hopes to be the most sustainable games to date – for example, the top ring of the Olympic stadium is made from surplus gas pipes.

I skipped through exhibitions about London before London and Roman London (not literally skipped, you understand, that would be weird). The city was burned in AD60 by Boudicca and was then rebuilt and expanded. By AD100 it replaced Colchester as the capital of Britannia. Glass cases contained bones and pottery, models of amphitheatres, stone sculpture tools, coins and horseshoes, but I was being selective, and pressed on.

I was intrigued by the remaining part of the London Wall, however. The first fort was built in AD120 for the soldiers in Londinium. There were remaining mosaics from AD 200 when these walls were strengthened and incorporated into a city wall to protect London. In AD410 the Romans abandoned London; the city declined as it was empty for nearly 400 years and the wall began to collapse.

The Saxons moved in (in AD886), repaired the walls, and added towers for extra protection against Viking attack. They built houses right up against the wall, but they were destroyed in the Great Fire of London (1666). In the nineteenth century, warehouses and shops again abutted the wall. World War II bombing caused extensive damage to both the wall and the buildings, and when archaeologists dug up the ruins, they found sections of the original wall, one of which is displayed here, looking secretive in the summer sunshine. I love how the stones are steeped in history.

Real children were playing in a reconstructed house in the Medieval Britain section. Here the displays feature weapons, keys, chain mail, pottery, preserved doors and altarpieces, rings, paintings, books, manuscripts (bibles and primers from the 1400s) and illustrated letters. There’s a collection of London Delftware pottery, and the Cheapside Hoard, a treasure of Elizabethan and Jacobean jewels discovered in 1912 under the cellar floor of a seventeenth century house in Cheapside.

Again, I raced through this bit, but was morbidly interested by the display on the Plague, Black Death and Pestilence caused by the stink and filth of the city. The ‘War Plague and Fire’ section also interested me as it has a model of the Rose Theatre from 1587 and the three copper plates of the 1559 Copper Plate Map – fifteen plates made up a map of London, and only these three survive, although there is no contemporary printed map.

Oliver Cromwell’s death mask is also on display here. He is claimed to have said, in a 1656 interview, “I am as much for a government by consent as any man; but where shall we find that consent?”

London was teeming – furniture, models of 1660s timber houses, and pictures of the Great Fire illustrate this state. Donald Lupton wrote in London and the Countrey (1632), “London is the great beehive of Christendom... she swarms with people of all ages, natures, sexes, callings... she seems to be a glutton, for she desires always to be full.”

One-fifth of the population died in 1665 due to the Great Plague. In an effort to ward it off, people wore bunches of herbs; lavender, cloves, and pommo d’ambre (a mixture of whale vomit, animal scents and flowers – thought to be efficacious). And then came the Great Fire.

London booksellers stored all their books and papers in the crypt of St Paul’s Cathedral for safety, but it was covered in wooden scaffolding which caught fire, the lead in the roof melted, the cathedral burned down, and everything was destroyed. Fortunately London Bridge had a gap between shops in it (from a previous fire), which prevented the fire from spreading to Southwark, and causing further loss of life.

The gaolers took pity on the debtors in prison at Newgate, and released them to fend for themselves. People pulled down houses and Charles II himself helped with throwing water on the conflagration which raged for five days, destroying 13,000 homes – the King arranged for bread to be delivered each day to feed the many homeless.

Friday Five: Goooooold!

It has not escaped my notice that as it is time to do the Friday Five, Team GB has five gold medals at the Olympic Games. Mere coincidence? Of course it is, but I'm not going to let that put me off.

5 Gold Medals:

1. Heather Stanning and Helen Glover collect British women's rowing first ever gold medal in superb style. They led from start to finish in front of a highly vocal and thrilled local crowd to become our newest golden girls.

2. Bradley Wiggins (probably soon to be sir) proves he really is King of the Road with his blistering win in the time trial. Apparently he decided to do this event when his wife couldn't get tickets for the velodrome and he wanted to do something that all the fans could watch. And watch it we did, with only a little bit of drool.

3. As the slowest qualifiers for the Canoe C2 Slalom, Tim Baillie and Etienne Stott came out first and set the time to beat. No one could. They took Britain's first ever medal in this event. The pairing of David Florence and Richard Houdslow came second, so we won silver too! That's making a pretty big splash.

4. I have to admit I know nothing about this event and have never tried it, but it looks as though it requires nerves of steel and reactions of quicksilver. Peter Wilson won gold in the double trap shooting (which I think is equivalent to clay pigeon shooting) after being trained by Sheik Ahmed Al Maktoum (a member of Dubai's royal family), who won gold in 2004. Apparently Wilson just asked him if he would train him and he said yes. When asked what he was going to next, Wilson replied, "I'm going to get very, very drunk, probably do something stupid, and have a lot of fun." I hope he did - he deserves it.



5. After the disappointment of the women's disqualification in the team sprint, home fans' spirits were lifted at the velodrome as the men's sprint team powered to a new world record and a gold medal. It's Sir Chris Hoy's fifth Olympic gold medal and he won it alongside Philip Hindes and Jason Kenny. Fabulous stuff. I got up at 3am to watch it - a small sacrifice. I would gladly do it again. Arise to victory!

All of these athletes are incredible. Congratulaions to all the athletes at the Olympic Games (of every nation) for providing such a world class spectacle of sport. And there are another two weeks to go!

A Bridge Too Far

The Olympics have not yet even begun and already the non-British media coverage is annoying me. Perhaps the British press will be equally appalling in the weeks to come, but for the moment let me just point something out.

There are 24 bridges across the Thames in London; the first one was built by the Romans between the City of London and Southwark. It was wooden and there were many vaiations on it, which burned down, collapsed and slid into the mud. There is some evidence that this is the basis for the nursery rhyme, London Bridge is Falling Down.

A stone bridge was built in 1176 and was lined with shops - the most famous bridge in the country at the time. Fires, floods and other natural and non-natural disasters all took their toll and many bridges were built on this site. In 1973 the present London Bridge was erected. It looks like this:


As part of the lead-up to the Olympics, the ring logo has appeared on Tower Bridge, one bridge downstream from London Bridge. Tower Bridge was built between 1886-94 and looks like this:

London Bridge was bought by an American in 1967 and rebuilt in Lake Havasu City, Arizona. Both the buyer and the vendor vehemently deny the popular rumour that he actually thought he was buying Tower Bridge. The mistake is common, but no less annoying for all that.

My Newest Favourite Thing: Team Sky

Wow! What a team. What a performance. What a commitment! I've heard people say that they are boring - clearly these people know nothing about cycling and are probably the same people that say that Spain are boring at football. It's a team sport. And what a sport. These guys are supreme athletes. I'm speechless. All aboard the Sky Train!

And I know I've banged on about Cavendish before, but he is truely remarkable, so I will again. The acceleration is incredible, and to win on the Champs Elysees for the fourth time in a row, is a stunning achievement. He'll always have Paris.

And Bradley Wiggins... what can I say? A fabulous and worthy winner. A great winning speech - 'It's time to draw the raffle numbers' - and a passion and to commitment to the sport. Yes, I'm patriotic and yes, it's wonderful to see a British rider win Le Tour. But it's even more amazing to see the yellow jersey lead out the World Champion in the final sprint. The Sky Train has been brilliant. Every rider has pedalled his socks off and I love it all.

 

And the Olympic road race is in less than a week's time. At the last Olympics I was suffering slightly from dual nationality syndrome. No such dilemmas this time. You go boys; bring it home!

Winter Olmpics

I love the Summer Olympics: the teams; the flags; the national anthems; the countries: the medal ceremonies; the athletics; the hype; the drugs… It’s really quite a spectacle. When we were kids we had our own version around the local green. We played sprinting, middle distance running (which was like sprinting but slower), long distance running (which was walking and lying about the number of laps you’d done), long jump, high jump, skipping and hopping. We also had goal shooting, because the only boy who ever actually wanted to be a goal-keeper lived on our street.

And then there are the Winter Olympics, full of games that people from cold places play. These are just mad! They play ‘team sports’ like ice hockey, which is legalised violence; rugby league with sticks. My aunt and uncle who lived in Canada moved their entire home several thousands of miles because their son showed more than a passing interest in the sport.

There’s also curling, where a group of people wearing tea cosies on their heads slide stones down the ice while some demented rink-proud lunatic sweeps it vigorously with a broom. Odd, to say the least. When they’re not tidying it up, they’re skating round it with thighs the size of their torsos squeezed into lycra suits. One memorable year, everyone leaned a little too far into the corner and they all fell over. Leapfrogging them all – no mean feat in ice skates – was some rank outsider who’d previously been lapped. Steve Bradbury skated to victory in a performance akin to Dobbin the Pantomime Horse winning the Melbourne Cup. (He's from Australia - they don't call it the Lucky Country for nothing.)

Staying on the ice, these Olympic heroes and heroines have devised all sorts of peculiar things to do on it. They slide down chutes of it at break-neck speed either feet or head first individually on tea trays or in teams in bath tubs. These events are called luge and bobsleigh and, ominously enough, skeleton.

One the most intriguing events, is the ice dancing. Somewhat like skating with the stars, except that these people are actually good. Most people claim it is the winter equivalent of synchronised swimming and that no one watches it. Is that so? In Britain, Ravel’s Bolero is known as ‘The Torville and Dean Music’, and that was even after Bo Derek took her clothes off to it, which I would imagine takes some topping!

The South Park characters have a prior skating celebrity as a mentor, and two female American competitors had a rather ugly and public spat involving a sledgehammer and a film contract, although admittedly it went straight to video release. Competitors spin and glide their way around the ice in ridiculous flimsy sequinned costumes and the audience waits with baited breath until some poor little Russian falls on her bum and gets a crap score from the judges. She gets the public vote though because she still manages to smile bravely through her atrocious make-up.

When they’re not doing foolish things on ice, they’re doing them on snow. Ski-jumping for example. Why would you slide down an enormous ramp of snow with no poles and fly through the air hoping to land in a pile of cold wet stuff? And where are the practice jumps? The training ramps? Britain had a bloke who sort of fell rather than jumped off the end. He was called, obviously ironically, Eddie the Eagle. Eddie the Emu more like. He became a national idol.

My favourite event is the biathlon in which participants X-Country ski until their limbs turn to jelly and then they shoot things. Perhaps not the most obvious combination unless you are a member of the Norwegian army, or James Bond. These competitors are so exhausted that they fall over the finish line in a heap of heaving sweating lycra. An enticing visual image perhaps, but would you trust them with a gun?

I would like to suggest that we no longer neglect the fine display of the winter Olympics and that we host our own, back yard version. I accept that ice-rinks that form are unlikely to be more than muddy puddles, and skiing down the slide in the children’s playground may be frowned upon. So I recommend we stick to more mundane and familiar pursuits.

Wrapping up warm would be first on my list. The winner would be the person who managed to wear the most layers of clothing and still move. This would cause a spin-off in merchandising and thermal underwear would become quite fashionable. Although the Michelin Man would become a role model (or is that a roll model?), the competitor, if so desirous, could still sport sequinned attire or something diaphanous in chiffon.

Walking down icy steps is another potential event. There are all manner of possible categories; speed, style, vocal expression… A panel of judges could grant points for interpretation which are subjective enough for Canada to get away with never awarding the USA top marks. There could be a tandem event, a pursuit, or even a relay of contestants grasping at handrails and slithering their way down to a small bundle at the bottom of a flight of steps.

Ingenious ways of starting a car, de-icing the windscreen with a credit card, putting on snow chains and lighting a fire would all be possibilities. Drinking mulled wine would be a clear favourite, with hot chocolate supping for those in training. Of course, I welcome your suggestions for this auspicious event and invite you to send them all to:

The Back Yard Winter Olympics
Cold Comfort Farm
Waiwerahat
New Zealand