In Which I Stalk Team Germany and, Oh Yeah, Attend My Very First Olympic Event

Dearest Readers,

I know that this is the post that you have all been waiting for, so I do apologize for the slight delay.  These things take time, you know.  And just so you are aware, I've been watching the pageview count and I am incredibly flattered and grateful for the number of readers that have been regularly checking in; it makes the work that I put into this worthwhile.  On that note, if some of you multitudes would leave comments, I would appreciate it even more, and might be less inclined to leave you hanging when it comes to important things such as Olympic events.

Speaking of leaving you hanging...

So after the great haircolor expedition on Saturday afternoon, we went back to the flat to recuperate for a bit.  The plan was to go to Greenwich, walk around, have some dinner, and head to the North Greenwich Arena (i.e., The O2, but because O2 is not an official Olympic sponsor, the arena is not allowed to be called by that name).  I, however, looked at the travel guidelines and saw that we were supposed to be in the arena a whole two hours before our event was scheduled to start, which basically ruined said plans.  Since we didn't want to take a risk, and since it was the first day of the games, we figured that we should go with the suggested arrival time.  So we ate a quick dinner, ventured out via the (unusually un-crowded) Tube, and arrived at:

A really funny-looking building.

We breezed through security and headed into the O2, which was only a little bit crowded (another event was just getting out as we came in).  The venue was filled with restaurants, which were, in turn, filled with people, and there was a movie theatre, which did not seem to be a primary attraction (I can't imagine why).  At this point, we had nearly two hours to kill, so we found ourselves a rooftop bar in which to hang out.  Isn't that what everyone does whilst waiting for an Olympic event to start?

Check out Daniel's fantastic Union Jack shoes.

Eight-o-clock approached, so we headed to the practically non-existent queue to enter the competition arena.  We went up up up up the escalators into the nosebleeds of this absolutely enormous space, and took our seats in the nicely crowded section, looking down on the empty expensive seats (apparently they were for people from international sporting federations and sponsoring companies.  there has been much debate surrounding what should be done to ensure that those seats are filled, and preferably, given to members of the British public). 

Here, check it out for yourself:

Look above the upper pink line: that's where the vast majority of the crowd sat. 

 

Here's just a small section of that top level (we were all doing the wave, of course).

The brown-ish seats under the giant pink screen are for the media, 

the people who calculate the scores, etc.

If you haven't already guessed, event numero uno was gymnastics; more precisely, the Men's Artistic Gymnastic Qualifiers, round 3/3.  We watched the members of teams Germany, Russia, Ukraine, Spain, and Romania, plus a few competitors from assorted countries, compete on every apparatus in order to qualify both their teams for the all-around competition as well as themselves for individual competition on any number of apparatuses.  Each team rotated from apparatus to apparatus, one apparatus per round, six rounds in all.  So for example, all of the Germans competed on the rings in round 4, and in round 5, rotated to the vault whilst the Russians, following behind them, proceeded to compete on the rings in round 5, etc.  If it helps, I was a bit confused at first as well.

Teams present themselves before the judges at the start of each round, before they are given thirty seconds of warm-up time and then each performs an approximately one-minute routine.

It was like watching a six-ringed circus, really; there are all of these incredible athletes all doing completely different things all at the same time, and it's almost impossible to decide what to watch.  

At least the rings and the pommel horse were close enough that you could keep your eyes on both.

Except that the high bar was so much more exciting.

And the floor performances were really interesting.

And the parallel bars were super cool.  At least the vault was out of my line of vision, so I could ignore one of the six things competing for my attention.

At first, I tried watching everything, but then I began to particularly follow the German and Russian teams, as they were both incredible.  The Germans in particular were awesome to watch; they had a sort of energy that the Russians lacked, I thought (interestingly, the top four in the lineup going into the team finals is: USA, Russia, Great Britain, Germany).

A particularly impressive performance by a member of Team Germany on the parallel bars.

In between rotations, we were shown short videos which featured one of the apparatuses, explaining the rules, types of moves performed on them, scoring, etc., which was incredibly helpful.  They also played an assortment of very odd musical selections (one that I remember in particular was "Sabotage" by the Beastie Boys, but without lyrics.  is it weirder that they played it or weirder that I recognized the song, even without the words?), and we clapped and cheered for the athletes as they prepared for their next round of competition. 

Maybe it was because I didn't have any particular loyalties to any of the teams competing that day, but I found myself not caring so much about who got how many points; rather, I was simply in awe of the power and the artistry that all of these athletes showed.  Every one of them is phenomenal, really (you have to be, at this level), and watching it in person felt more like watching a performance than a competition.  The whole crowed reacted together to breathtaking moments, applauded brilliant performances from any and every team, gave a unified cry of sympathy when an athlete fell and cheered when he got back on the bar.  

I never really got the whole 'Olympic Spirit' thing until then; when you're in the arena, it's all about celebrating greatness; national loyalties come second.  No one hisses or boos; there is only applause and louder applause.  Just to illustrate: the commentator called our attention to a Belgian athlete as he was about to perform his routine on the rings, telling us that this was the SIXTH Olympics for this 39-year-old (oldest male gymnastics competitor), many-time world champion and medal winner in the all-around competition, and that he was choosing to focus on the rings in this Games.  The crowd cheered wildly as he approached, watched quietly, and applauded like mad when he finished.  

Perhaps it goes without saying that his routine was nearly flawless.

A few additional things about watching the Olympics in person that are really different from watching them on the telly (and that make the experience so much better):

1.  You don't have the annoying commentators talking over all of the action, which allows you to actually pay attention to what's going on.

2.  The camera crew isn't deciding what you get to watch.  You are free to choose.  This goes along with the earlier point about the country loyalty being less important in person than when NBC will only show you, or talk about, the American athletes (to be fair, the BBC is the same way).

3.  Your cheering actually has a direct impact on the athletes, who respond really well to the audience.

4.  There are no slow-motion-triple-replays.  You have to pay attention or you'll miss something awesome, but at the same time, you can get a better overall appreciation of the performance and its artistry when you aren't being shown the exact breakdown of that triple-flip-over-a-handstand-whilst-making-pancakes move.

Oh, and one of the best parts?  You might run into the athletes after the competition!

A member of Team Germany meeting his parents after his outstanding performance. (I'm not that stalkerish and creepy, I promise-- he was literally just standing a few feet away from me.  Other people were taking pictures too.  Don't judge.)

So we ran into this cute little German (did I mention how tiny these guys are in person?  They look larger than life when they're competing, and then they're hardly taller than I am), as well as the Belgian guy who is the oldest competitor (we saw him at one of the pubs in the O2, and he looked very happy to be there), and the entirety of Team Espana, followed by an entourage of tall, skinny, well-dressed women.  

Watching all of this Olympian exertion made us hungry, so we stopped for some burgers (and I had the best falafel that I've had in ages, and a milkshake, which made me extremely happy) before heading out of the O2 and home on the Tube to more or less collapse when we got back.  

Next up, a post on Sunday's activities, followed by Olympic Event #2- Men's Hockey!  Until then, dear readers, don't forget to watch the Men's Artistic Gymnastic Final on Monday night (and watch out for Germany)!  Cheers!

In Which The Games, Mrs. Hudson, Are ON!

Loveliest of readers,

Too many things have happened within the last 28 hours for me to write about all of them in this post, for which I apologize.  So here's what we'll do.  I'll tell you about the Opening Ceremonies festivities and this afternoon in this post, and we'll save MY FIRST OLYMPIC EVENT for tomorrow.  If it helps, you can pretend that we're just taking a very long tea break in between posts.  I would suggest actually making yourself a cup of tea to pass the time.  Or, you know, watching the Olympics.  Whatever floats your boat.

Let's begin where we left off yesterday.  We were joined in the afternoon by Cindy, a good friend of Suzanne and Daniel's (and at one point, my first employer), and we all made some delicious homemade pizza with the 100 million vegetables that I brought back from Borough Market:

Then we took off for the local park, where the Opening Ceremonies were to be shown on a gigantic screen.  It seemed to be The Thing To Do, and people were planning picnics and bringing booze and such.  We arrived at 9pm on the dot, and lo and behold, the park was jam-packed and would not admit a single extra person.  So we hightailed it back to the flat to watch there.  This turned out to be an even better Thing To Do, as we made Pimm's Cups (a classic British cocktail) and sat on the couch to enjoy the show.

And what a show it was!  We missed the very beginning (the bit with the livestock, as I understand), but switched on in time for the really cool melding of the rings in the sky.  Things only got better from there.  [I'll take a moment to add that I'm assuming you've seen the Opening Ceremonies.  If you haven't, shame on you.  Go watch them on youtube or something before you read this.]  Since we all saw the same performance, more or less, I'll just tell you my favorites, in order of preference:

1.  Rowan Atkinson, the London Symphony Orchestra, and Chariots of Fire.  This was probably the funniest thing I have seen in a very long time.
2.  James Bond and the Queen 'parachuting' into the Olympic Stadium.
3.  The copper buckets that turned into the super awesome Olympic Torch (it gave me chills).
4.  Gigantic Lord Voldemort, J.K Rowling reading, Mary Poppins, adorable children, and actual NHS professionals dancing (the prediction was right!  more or less).
5.  The fireworks.

Normally, I find fireworks boring.  But guess what?  Those fireworks were visible from the flat.

This is without zoom; exactly how we saw them from the flat.

And this is because I like to brag about how great my camera lens is.

As we were out on the balcony taking pictures, many people in the general neighborhood cheered throughout the fireworks, and we joined in.  The sense of national pride here is understandably palpable and rather beautiful, I think; it's hard not to be swept up in all of the excitement for Team GB here!

A few final random thoughts:  I believe that Team USA looked almost too preppy for their own good, but certainly nicely put-together, the Italians looked fabulous as always, the Independent Athletes looked like the happiest and most fun people in the stadium (not counting the Queen, of course), and whichever team it was that came prepared with the bright blue wellies and umbrellas (and, thank goodness, didn't need them) won my personal award for most cleverly dressed.

The Ceremonies ended at something like 12:30 am (sooo glad we stayed in the flat), but I was too keyed up to sleep.  So then I was up until 3 am.  Oops.  (I'll be up until at least 2 am working on this abbreviated blog post, so I guess this isn't much better.  Also, you're welcome.)  Consequently, I slept until noon, at which point we all had brunch before heading out to Broadway Market in East London.

Along the way, we passed a lovely museum 'round the corner from the flat that was once a poorhouse and is now a museum of home and garden design throughout the centuries.

An essential element of any British home, regardless of century: a tea set!

So we went to Broadway Market, and bought a few more tasty things, but really only a few, because the fridge is filled to capacity from the Borough Market extravaganza.  We then took a scenic detour through London Fields park:

And proceeded to walk for 45 minutes through all sorts of strange backstreets until we arrived at a store that sold a very particular sort of haircolor (hint: it's bright blue) which Daniel required for proper self-decoration in honor of the Games. 

Here, my friends, I must leave you, for it is nearly 2 am and I have to get up in the morning to do things and such.  But I solemnly promise to tell you all about the event—you may have even watched it, a little something called the Men's Artistic Gymnastics Qualifier?—sometime tomorrow.  Until then, dear readers, I leave you with this, as I think the Queen ought to have the last word: