OMGB! The Olympic Victory Parade
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
This summer has, undoubtedly, been a summer of sport. Even though my sporting capabilities encompass playing tennis at the local court, jogging round the block and dabbling at the gym, I have felt the sporting spirit. Undoubtedly. Thanks to the Olympics, Paralympics, and now Andy Murray's very first grandslam win (woooooooo!), we're all feeling it too. The athletes have done spectacularly well and given Britain a feeling of sportyjoy, so it's only fair we gave something back! How about a million people lining the streets of London to cheer them on? Yep, sounds good to me!
I'm talking about the Victory Parade here ("Our Greatest Team"), which I am very, very, very happy and proud to say that I was a part of. I arrived at London's Mansion House just after 11.30, expecting to see the parade just after 1.30. Two hours of waiting really wasn't much of a pain with the friendly and buzzing crowd - seriously, buzzing with excitement is not an exaggeration. I'd heard people had gotten to places in London from very early in the morning so there was the dreaded thought that the streets would already be lined with twenty rows of people all craning for a glimpse of the street. Luckily, however, 11.30 was the best possible time to go; we didn't have too long to wait, and there weren't too many people. In fact, outside the Mansion House station, there were still small gaps along the front row by the road. My friend Lauren and I were fortunate to be able to squeeze into one so we had pretty much the best view you could get! The spot was excellent for 3 reasons: 1) No heads in the way of the view! 2) Just so happened it was barrier-free, in contrast to further on down the road and 3) We were on the left side of the road which is the side the floats came down in, with most of the athletes on that side too. Sorry, right side!
There are some moments which simply are not everyday occurences. Take, for example, a policeman on a bicycle cycing down the road. On a normal Monday morning, he would cycle down a road. On a Monday morning on Victory Celebration Day down Victory Celebration Route, he would cycle down a road with the deafening woops and cheers from the crowd waving Union Jacks and offering high-fives. It was something really quite special.
As two hours flew by, it was time. Introduced by a crowd of policemen on horses/motorbikes/the lot (cue cheering), then a giant Lion Dance-style British Lion (cue more cheering), then a marching band in bright red and blue (cue music and even more cheering), then the sighting of the first float (cue Bev goes deaf). There was something special...or rather, someone special on that float. With a "Sir"+question mark to his name and an iconic arm gesture above his head, it could only be...(Sir?) Mo Farrah! That's right ladies and gents, we did the Mobot with Mo. Surely that can go on my CV? And so the waving began...
The waving of proud champions (with or without medal) grinning from ear to ear with ridiculously big smiles and an "I can't believe this is happening!" expression on their faces. The waving of proud spectators waving with ridiculously big smiles at simply being able to be a part of something so great. The waving of Union Jacks along the road, through the crowds, in office blocks, on the roofs of buildings... I saw some workers even cleaning their windows beforehand just so their view was crystal clear (cue cheering). Float after float; you'd think that to get to 21 you'd be bored but by golly you'd be wrong! I didn't recognise every single athlete, but I respected them all for putting the "great" in Great Britain. And I felt like a squealing schoolgirl again as I made eye contact with some of the greatest Greats. The men's rowing coxless 4...Beth Tweddle...Sarah Storey... Sir Chris Hoy... Laura Trott... Ellie Simmonds...Greg Rutherford... both Brownlees... and Tom Daley - oh boy did I find myself squealing (as did the whole crowd; I pinpoint it at those trunks). Oh, and Clare Balding!
21 floats later, and only several photos left in my camera memory, the parade ended with the Gamesmakers making their way down the route. But here's where the no-barriers thing came in handy. On a whim, we thought "what if we joined in behind them?". Which is apparently what everyone around us thought too, leading to a mass of people just parading down a London street (car traffic free! Once-in-a-lifetime) towards St Paul's Cathedral and past all the people behind barriers. It was partly to get to the right underground station, and partly because it was just so surreal it will never happen again. Of course, it would have been impossible to do the whole route so people were eventually warded off at St Paul's and we managed to duck back to normal ground, but not before being snapped onto BBC1's live coverage of the event!
The only downside of the day was missing my train - I did run wildly and somewhat embarrassingly but I'm sadly neither Usain Bolt nor Mo Farrah. I sprinted like I'd never sprinted before. Perhaps it was the whole sporting occasion was going to my head. But yes, if it did, I'm glad it did!
(superfast) Bev Bolt x
I'm talking about the Victory Parade here ("Our Greatest Team"), which I am very, very, very happy and proud to say that I was a part of. I arrived at London's Mansion House just after 11.30, expecting to see the parade just after 1.30. Two hours of waiting really wasn't much of a pain with the friendly and buzzing crowd - seriously, buzzing with excitement is not an exaggeration. I'd heard people had gotten to places in London from very early in the morning so there was the dreaded thought that the streets would already be lined with twenty rows of people all craning for a glimpse of the street. Luckily, however, 11.30 was the best possible time to go; we didn't have too long to wait, and there weren't too many people. In fact, outside the Mansion House station, there were still small gaps along the front row by the road. My friend Lauren and I were fortunate to be able to squeeze into one so we had pretty much the best view you could get! The spot was excellent for 3 reasons: 1) No heads in the way of the view! 2) Just so happened it was barrier-free, in contrast to further on down the road and 3) We were on the left side of the road which is the side the floats came down in, with most of the athletes on that side too. Sorry, right side!
There are some moments which simply are not everyday occurences. Take, for example, a policeman on a bicycle cycing down the road. On a normal Monday morning, he would cycle down a road. On a Monday morning on Victory Celebration Day down Victory Celebration Route, he would cycle down a road with the deafening woops and cheers from the crowd waving Union Jacks and offering high-fives. It was something really quite special.
As two hours flew by, it was time. Introduced by a crowd of policemen on horses/motorbikes/the lot (cue cheering), then a giant Lion Dance-style British Lion (cue more cheering), then a marching band in bright red and blue (cue music and even more cheering), then the sighting of the first float (cue Bev goes deaf). There was something special...or rather, someone special on that float. With a "Sir"+question mark to his name and an iconic arm gesture above his head, it could only be...(Sir?) Mo Farrah! That's right ladies and gents, we did the Mobot with Mo. Surely that can go on my CV? And so the waving began...
The waving of proud champions (with or without medal) grinning from ear to ear with ridiculously big smiles and an "I can't believe this is happening!" expression on their faces. The waving of proud spectators waving with ridiculously big smiles at simply being able to be a part of something so great. The waving of Union Jacks along the road, through the crowds, in office blocks, on the roofs of buildings... I saw some workers even cleaning their windows beforehand just so their view was crystal clear (cue cheering). Float after float; you'd think that to get to 21 you'd be bored but by golly you'd be wrong! I didn't recognise every single athlete, but I respected them all for putting the "great" in Great Britain. And I felt like a squealing schoolgirl again as I made eye contact with some of the greatest Greats. The men's rowing coxless 4...Beth Tweddle...Sarah Storey... Sir Chris Hoy... Laura Trott... Ellie Simmonds...Greg Rutherford... both Brownlees... and Tom Daley - oh boy did I find myself squealing (as did the whole crowd; I pinpoint it at those trunks). Oh, and Clare Balding!
21 floats later, and only several photos left in my camera memory, the parade ended with the Gamesmakers making their way down the route. But here's where the no-barriers thing came in handy. On a whim, we thought "what if we joined in behind them?". Which is apparently what everyone around us thought too, leading to a mass of people just parading down a London street (car traffic free! Once-in-a-lifetime) towards St Paul's Cathedral and past all the people behind barriers. It was partly to get to the right underground station, and partly because it was just so surreal it will never happen again. Of course, it would have been impossible to do the whole route so people were eventually warded off at St Paul's and we managed to duck back to normal ground, but not before being snapped onto BBC1's live coverage of the event!
The only downside of the day was missing my train - I did run wildly and somewhat embarrassingly but I'm sadly neither Usain Bolt nor Mo Farrah. I sprinted like I'd never sprinted before. Perhaps it was the whole sporting occasion was going to my head. But yes, if it did, I'm glad it did!
(superfast) Bev Bolt x
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