Day 3: Walking around in sunny
London and discovering the BBC coverage
The third day begins with a brunch in the city, at the
“Giraffe” restaurant selected by Jean-François. On this Sunday I had tickets to
see the evening fencing finals in the men's team foil event. But this time, my
wife would enjoy it with our fencing friend and I will take care of our baby.
Before hand, we had some sightseeing to do.
The weather was exceptionally kind when we left our
empty plates behind us, permitting an enjoyable digestive walk through empty
streets. The scariest of all the city veins were the ones used earlier in the
morning by the ladies running the marathon. Still closed for traffic at the
time we walked by, they really made the place look like a post apocalyptic
ghost town.
I took advantage of my location to cast an eye on the
site I have been working on for my 18 last months in London. The Heron Tower
was now fully completed, including an enormous fish tank in the reception lobby
and a sushi bar at one of the top levels.
We continued our route and realised quite suddenly
that we were just next to the "Club France", the temporary bar opened
by the French Olympic committee on the Thames north bank. We walked once past
it without noticing any entrance. When we found it in a backstreet, we got
disenchanted. There were a hundred metre long queue ahead of closed doors to
cope with if you wanted to cheer on Olympians in French atmosphere. We turned
our heels on it, being not enough interested to bear the wait.
What we did instead was going to Switzerland.
Figuratively. Right across London bridge was located the Swiss House, the red
and white nemesis of the Club France. We felt much more welcome here, with an
open air bar, a giant screen showing the sporting action, free chocolate
tasting and even a climbing wall...
The fact that the biggest star in Swiss sports, Roger
Federer, was currently being trashed by Andy Murray in the men's tennis final,
did not alter much the atmosphere. After all it was a silver medal he did not
have yet in his trophy cabinet.
Later in the afternoon, when the time came to get
closer to the Excel arena, we moved away and decided to try a scenic way, using
the brand new cable car line linking the docklands and North Greenwich over the
Thames. We surely enjoyed the view (for those daring to look through the
window) and did not waste any of the few seconds it lasted.
Next, it was time for the men in this family to go
back home and leave wife and friend who were getting into the fencing hall.
Once there, I had the chance to discover what the BBC
meant by a full digital coverage of the Games. When I arrived home, I noticed
that my Italian friend providing me shelter for the week was watching the
athletics on the television screen. During the few minutes I needed to take
care of my baby boy, I had a few glances at what happened in the living room.
And I successively caught sight of a water polo game, some fencing, some volley
ball and much more. When I finally settled down, I understood that there were
actually 24 BBC sports channels dedicated to the Olympics. Basically, every
event was broadcasted live, you just had to choose the one you preferred. You
could (and we did) watch the 100m semi-finals and check the evolution of the
scores in a few other sports between races, then change to the channel
dedicated to the triple jump event and then get back to the fencing...
What a revolution it was for the French TV viewer I
was, forced to watch what the programmer decided to put forward (meaning either
a French medallist or Usain Bolt) on the single French channel showing the
Olympics back home...
The night went like this all the way, moving virtually
from an Olympic venue to another as we fancied, until a Jamaican superman
decided to bring the whole media attention to him.
Alexia came back home and we quickly went to bed, once
again exhausted.
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