A Highsummer Night's Dream

This blog began in the watery wake of a British rowing eight victory in Athens, during the games of the 28th Olympiad in Athens. It was a humble start to my blogging efforts.

A lot of water has flowed under many bridges since then, but last night saw the watery tears of my fellow Londoners flowing freely as the games of the 30th Olympiad drew to a close.

In the small hours of this morning, after a closing ceremony as Bonkers as Boris, London's elected Mayor who has revealed he momentarily did not want to return the Olympic flag to IOC president Jacques Rogge, I was wondering- and wonder has been a constant theme of these games- what I could possibly write about it for one of my now rare blog postings.

One mantra of this games has been sustainability. Much of the special effects props from last year's set are already in the recycling bin.

In the small hours and aided by a nice half bottle of Merlot while watching the party to end all parties, I was thinking about writing about some of the most acclaimed aspects of the games which, before they began many Londoners were prophesying to be a nightmare rather than a dream. As Morpheus tugged at my eyelids, though, I didn't get round to writing it.

You can read elsewhere about Winston Churchill popping out of the top of Big Ben and reading the same speech from "The Tempest" as the newly-knighted Sir Kenneth Branagh read in the astounding opening ceremony just seventeen days earlier. Instead, I'm going to take on board the aim of these Olympics- and the forthcoming Paralympics- to be sustainable.

So here's a piece I'm recycling from my posting to "Comment is Free" at www.guardian.co.uk yesterday, which has banished my post-games blues. And, earned for me the accolade of a "Staff Highlight" for the first time ever. That, to me, is as precious as any gold medal, and it may even lead on to greater things. I can but dream...

http://www.guardian.co.uk/sport/london-2012-olympics-blog/2012/aug/12/has-olympics-changed-london-2012

Staff highlight [ Guardian Pick ]

I never thought I could be so London proud; to have been born, just, a Londoner (within a London postal district though in fact I'm also a proud defender of historic Middlesex who were the county council at the time long before BoJo got on the case!).

I went to the same secondary school where Mo Farah was discovered by the wonderful Alan Watkinson. I wish he'd been my PE teacher when I was at Feltham Comprehensive (as it was then). He comes across as such a gentle and humble man, yet clearly the most amazing mentor. Our head of PE back then, the late Ieuan Parry, was a top level gymnast who did nurture some great talen in the 70s, but never a man like Mo. His adoptive first home town is still basking in reflected glory, and the previously rather derided 2012 banners in this part of the London Borough of Hounslow have suddenly taken on a golden glod.

I am also just a mile or three- an easy run for Mo- from Bushy Park, Teddington (where he now has a home, I gather, and which will be getting the second Golden postbox- we missed out to Isleworth, where he transferred for sixth form). To be there both on the first day of the Olympics for the men's road race, and later in the week for the time trial on Golden Wednesday was a joy of 2012 I shall never forget. The cheers and applause for every single cyclist, not just "Wiggo" was a hugely life-affirming and encouraging experience, not to mention the number of flags from all over the world lining the route of the royal park on the final stretch down to Hampton Court Palace. Perhaps that's one of the tressures of London we have overlooked more than the crown jewels: the restorative recreational beauty of our Royal Parks. Thank heavens at least they have stayed in the hands of the crown, and not handed over to the mayoralty who even wanted to charge for the car parks!

I so wish now I had not been so cynical about the Gamesmakers and Ambassadors, simply because they were trained and sponsored by two American multi-nationals. The effect of Procter and Gamble's campaign for the families of the athletes was so heart-warming- scenes such as shooter Peter Wilson running out to give his Dad a hug mid media interview were a great reminder of the love that really underpinned and made these games; not just from the families of competitors, but of Londoners, myself included- and indeed all of Great Britian, I'd say- towards our visitors. At least I was able to do one afternoon shift giving out free water around St Pancras, for which the recipients were so grateful. The smiles and expressions on their faces brought tears to my eyes.

And of course, the spectacle of the opening ceremony was an eyeful of wonders, never to be forgotten. I'm sure it will top the best seller DVD lists this year.

That London recovered so quickly from the shameful events of last summer, to provide the almost faultless "clear round" of the Olympics (don't forget we still have the Paralympics to go!), surprises me not in the least. This is, after all, the city which recovered from a Great Fire, the South Sea Bubble, Nazi blitzkrieg, IRA and other terrorist atrocities, a little bruised, perhaps, but never destroyed, to produce perhaps the finest Olympic games ever seen. Well, we had two previous trial runs after all, didn't we!

Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner, but London Pride has indeed been handed down to us, and long may it stay so. And Seb: everything is forgiven!"

(Mind youm I'm not so sure the same forgiveness can be extended to Boris Johnson, or BoJo, for his unique attempt at "dancing" to The Spice Girls, specially reconstructed for the evening!)

Best of British

Today is Diamond Jubilee Day, a Public Holiday in the United Kingdom and the culmination of the four-day "Central Weekend" of celebration of a quite remarkable lady, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.

Many of my republican minded friends will think this rare post to my blog shows I've gone quite doolally, but I really don't mind. These have been days of such joy in the midst of a world of woe, that like the many millions on London's streets (and maybe even myself, again, later) I can do nothing but celebrate, in words, what it really means to me to be a citizen of the United Kingdom, according to nationality acts, and a willing subject of Elizabeth in a modern, constitutional monarchy.

So moved did I feel last night, after attending a special service and a beacon lighting at St Mary's, Bedfont, that I was moved to some rare poetic composition in the small hours. I'll share some more thoughts later, but dedicated to Her Majesty.

Best of British

There is a realm which has no bounds
That has no price in pence or pounds
There is a state, a land once dreamt
Where love is ruler, all content

There is a home, welcome for all
Where hope dwells safe, and none shall fall
There is a place, where mercy reigns
A glistening bliss of light-kissed lanes

There is a Christian, one who knows
The pain of loss, the human woes
There is a woman, one who dares
To serve all life for that she cares

There is a diamond in our land
Whom 'fate' has dealt a ruler's hand
There is a queen faithful to death
Called mother, wife - Elizabeth


There is a nation, proud and free
A birthplace once of liberty
There is a country full of men
Who toil for peace, again and again

What is this realm, which many seek
Not just blind followers, dim as sheep
But loving souls, of faith or none
Who strive for truth, for duty done

This is the monarch I can serve
From Christian faith she will not swerve
Yet all God asks of her and me
Love justice, truth, and liberty


His is the power that makes her shine
This Britain's queen, this lady fair
Hers is the image, Hers is the face
That makes this land a glorious place

This is my home, the land I adore
Full of beauty from shore to shore
This is the taste, perhaps. for now
Of heaven just beyond death’s brow

God Save our Gracious Queen!