The Olympic Torch Punts Through Cambridge

I’ll tell you what I love and that is coming back to a warm quiet house on a Sunday morning, after you’ve been standing in the drizzly outdoors for an hour waiting to see the Olympic Torch. It’s so peaceful.

I’m not one for the Olympics, sports or games but I couldn’t resist popping along to see the Triumphant Torch. Yesterday it came down Newmarket Road and Lucy and I waterproofed ourselves up and went to see it. You wouldn’t believe how bizarre it was. A procession of nasty looking buses advertising random products that I certainly shalln’t be buying ever and then a bunch of useful looking buses and finally flanked by grey lycra clad runners the torch bearer running through the grey streets of England. Underwhelming to say the least. But what I do love is that people wanted to see it. We’re all so desperate for some sense of community, we really want something to bring us all together. We need a spark to make us turn to the stranger next to us and talk. Something other than the weather.

Today I have to say was more exciting. The torch that had been spending the night at Trinity College (I hope it had a comfortable bed) was punted along the backs and under Magdalene Bridge. All over the bridge wet bedraggled waterproofed public stood presumably eager for a glimpse but doing a jolly good show of not showing it. I was there quite early and so got a good view from Quayside. A small toast eating girl came and stood next to me asking her Mum questions such as “Is Andy and Murry coming?” “Can I have some more toast?” and “When can we go home?”. Which I think just about sums it up from the perspective of a child.

After much drizzle the punts started. Punts filled with people we didn’t know and finally the punt we were waiting for with it’s torch and bearer. We stood and a several people clapped a little. I was all for whooping and cheering so I did a bit of that.

I think we were all quite surprised when the torch landed and the runners indicated that he could walked along the punting platform towards us unprotected. The poor chap looked quite uncomfortable with everyone staring at him and we murmured encouraging things and people took photos on their phones of a man they didn’t know who was holding on to his torch staring at the hollow crown of fame.

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