Olympic Trip #1

We set out from home at early o'clock to go down to That London to see the Olympic Marathon. It was the last day of the Olympics - and we just couldn't get enough.

We were SO early, we got to Stanmore before the tube started running. While we were waiting, Alan almost had an accident while slipping off the toilet seat (not fixed. Yay. time to crouch),

The platform was dotted with volunteers and spectators all off to the games, it was a time of quiet excitement. Co-incidentally, Dave had planned our route so the Tube took us right into Westminster and our proposed standing area, right opposite Big Ben, so no changes were needed. This was good, all coming together at the moment...

a picture of the others in the Kenyan Supporters' Club

We were quickly adopted into the group of fans on the corner and treated like lifelong friends!! We guarded our spot jealously, as the early morning joggers, runners and cyclists took a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to go on the traffic-free roads, the signs were still being set up, the streets were being cleaned etc.
We were 'adopted' by the Kenyan supporters and generously given some shirts and flags (well, Mike blagged them really) and we had to promise to support their man. This left us in a quandry as we had also promised to support the Spanish, Irish and our brave lads from GB (and Guernsey) - but what the hell, we had time for everyone.
While all this was going on, the Japanese were busily making their own banners, painting themselves up and devising new ways of getting themselves onto the TV. Of course, we dispatched someone to join the fun..

Pretty soon the streets were clear... and the security guards were in place. We befriended Boniface who was a smashing bloke, from Kenya (of course) and Dave delighted in telling him about his Arsenal fandom, where he was hilariously denounced by another Gooner fan..
..'I was at Wembley in '71 when they did the double'
...'So was I sir, and I can safely say I don't recall seeing you there'

The helicopters, the photo crews, the motorbikes announced the arrival of the race...

And the noise... was.... utterly fantastic!
Being at Mile 1 also meant we were near Mile 9, 17 and 25 - so we were able to see the race develop. Apparently we were on TV at 17 miles :-) I shall sign autographs if required.

Here's Scott Overall (GBR) at 9 miles.

He was going really well here and we had high hopes he would carry on through the field, but it wasn't to be.
Mike disappeared at this time to the floor, in search of food. While this was happening a midget tried to take the oxygen from him by leaning on top of him to take photos. He was swiftly removed.

As the race developed, the group behind us changed from Kenyan, to Dutch, to Italian, to Mexican. They were all there for the craic.
Team Ercall Kenyan Stompers continued to cheer everyone on, all the little countries who had sent their best runners to pound the streets in the hot, hot sunshine. Costa Rica, Lichtenstein, PRK. The Lesotho man managed to stay in front of the broom wagon. Just. Forza!
What was amazing from a running point of view, was that even the stragglers were knocking out 2.30-2.40 marathons. Some stragglers. Puts our efforts into perspective.
We tried a two-man Mexican wave for a Mexican runner (Dave wouldn't join in..) and we even got the Koreans to smile and give us a thumbs-up.
Eventually, sadly it was all over. We said goodbye to our new lifelong friends and set off for the tube home, to be followed by getting lost in the Northamptonshire countryside in search of a pub which had changed its name, where in our Kenyan shirts we were then treated like celebs. But that's for another day.