This was York’s moment to shine, according to all the
banners hanging all over town. Conveniently, the Olympic Torch was going to be
carried right past the end of our street. Rather less conveniently (it
transpired when the schedule was announced), it was due to arrive at
Charlotte’s bath and bedtime. Charlotte likes change about as much as her
mummy, but there was no way I was going to let us fail at this challenge just
because toddlers are sticklers for routines.
But just in case things didn’t work out, I took Charlotte
along to all the Olympic themed activities happening on the Knavesmire during
the day. In the morning, school children had made giant puppets to race in an
oversized sports day. In the afternoon, various local sporting clubs had set up
stalls and opportunities for kids to try out various activities – a climbing
wall, riding on a trotting plastic horse (a bucking bronco wouldn’t have gone
amiss, surely?), a tiny tennis court, a sheet with holes to lob rugby balls
through and, er, bowls. Then there was a lot of over-commercialised tat from
the official Games sponsors, whose names I won’t advertise here. The only
highlight for me was seeing the horse, Paddy, who was going to be tasked with
carrying the Torch on its last stretch and would cause a major upset by being
so unsettled that he made his rider, Harvey Smith, drop the torch. (A true
bucking bronco!) Paddy was walked out for a rehearsal and was already showing
temperamental flare and white eyes as it stomped round and reared near the
stage.
In the end, all it took to get Charlotte out the house in
time to see the Flame was having tea half an hour earlier. Once Charlotte saw
all the helicopters hovering overhead it didn’t even seem to occur to her that she
was missing In The Night Garden. And just like when the Queen came to York, it
was a sunny day, there was a lovely atmosphere and we very easily
found a spot with an excellent view. And brilliantly, a torch handover was
going to happen right at the end of our street where we were stood. Before long, the torchbearer
taking over at the spot was dropped off at the bus stop by the Torch Relay
Special Service. He was an amazing guy who despite having terminal brain cancer
has raised thousands of pounds for children suffering from brain tumours by
going on sponsored cycle rides (literally) the length and breadth of the
country. His friends and family were out in force to support him and he seemed
quite overwhelmed by the occasion but was kind enough to let Charlotte and me
muscle in on a photo.
Then came lots of police motorcycles, two naff floats from
our sponsors playing pumping dance music (the less of which said the better),
then a lorry (the mother flame?), before at last, one torchbearer, flanked by
runners, ready to hand over to another. It really was quite magical and
uplifting to see it all happen in front of us. Everyone cheered, people had
garden parties, and I felt inspired enough to make Dave take Charlotte in for
her bath (challenge done – she’d seen the Olympic flame) and follow the crowds
up to the Knavesmire.
Here came the perfect end, purely by chance. I went in via the
posh entrance to the racecourse grandstand that I’m normally not allowed
anywhere near, and arrived just in time to see Harvey Smith astride his now
much calmed horse complete his stretch along the straight. He then dismounted
and headed up on to the stage to light the giant cauldron. An excellent
telephoto lens on our camera makes it seem that I was very much in on the
action. I wasn’t. I’d seemingly missed the concert’s advertised highlight
of some pop star I’d never heard of (I’m old, I don’t care) but the other
purported celebrity was still there, an ex-Blue Peter presenter who wasn’t
Peter Duncan, Janet Ellis or Simon Groom. (Like I said, I'm old.) But I did recognise that woman from
Look North with the very deep voice who presents the sport. Oh, yes. Just like
I saw Christa outside the Yorkshire Museum on the day the Queen came to visit.
And Harry Gration in my doctor’s surgery once.
Lots of cheering followed the lighting of the cauldron, then
once the university gospel choir started singing, the crowds flocked away in
droves, so I was able to get nice and close to the stage to take one last photo.
So the Olympics made all of us in York have a great day. I’m
not sure they’ll do the same for my friends living in London in August.
No comments:
Post a Comment