I’m still having Olympic Dreams; every night in sleep I recall the sunny wonderland that we shared and strolled through, where people waved and smiled the livelong day, helping everyone, laughing, joking, waiting patiently in lines, singing and chatting to strangers. Policemen with idly dangling machine guns were integrating and laughing with the crowds, mounted police having their horses petted and posing for photographs. Wind rustled through the leaves of untroubled trees, the River Lee flowing silently and smooth, cooling the giant columnar feet of the Olympic live television screens at the river bed, and on the banks, picnickers in their thousands with rugs and parasols and hats and wine. Nature and cutting edge architecture living and breathing in peace and harmony; together embracing the temporary.
Thousands and thousands of people packed themselves willingly together, in the hot sun, with not a single rude or bad tempered word spoken, not an iota of litter strewn, and no hint of antisocial behaviour. The worst thing that happened is that Ashley from Leeds threw a bottle onto the athletics track, causing a delay, (the bottle would have been plastic because they all were, and to be honest now I think this happened the week before we went and I saw it on television) and as we strolled up to the gates two young Henrys uttered an F word twice with a smile on their lips. I can honestly say that this is the only swearing I heard all day. Cold beer was delivered to all corners of the park on smiling helper’s backs, advertised by tall flags.