Loving the 'Lympics

Suddenly everyone loves the Olympics. I think Tony Parsons summed it up best when he said: "Sneering at the Olympics is like sneering at Christmas... Time to stop synchronised moaning."

Stadium arcadium: Olympics happen here

As a fairly recent ex-resident of the Olympic borough of Hackney, and having the council tax Olympic surcharges to prove it, I have to say that I was always up for it. And not just for the regenerative powers of the Games. I think the jury is still out on that anyway, and I never really bought that idea that the stretch of the River Lea that is now Olympic Park needed saving. Yes, it was a bit wild, but it was a fascinating, and unique urban wilderness, which many people loved. I can understand why they were opposed to seeing it going. Hopefully the new Queen Elizabeth Park will be something equally unique, although very different of course.

No, the real reason I was up for the Olympics is pure, unadulterated excitement about the Games. Nothing this big has ever arrived on my doorstep before. Who wouldn't be excited? Well, Iain Sinclair obviously, although he's had plenty of column inches, a new book and ongoing art projects out of it. He can't be anything but excited, if only at the negative potential of the whole enterprise... if that makes sense.

Anyway, seven years after London won the bid, more than a year after applying for tickets, and a few days after Danny Boyle's jaw-dropping opening ceremony, it was our turn to head to the Olympic Park for a morning session of ladies basketball. To be honest, it could have been a crack of dawn liaison with the Outer Mongolian shove halfpenny B team, I didn't care - we were in!

Go Team GB: no.1 fan

Luckily we went on a beautifully sunny day when even crappy old Stratford couldn't help but look gorgeous. We turned up suitably early, aware of all the stories of security-induced queuing hell. As it happened, entry to the park was slick and painless.

Smiling volunteers with large pink foam hands pointed the way from Stratford station to the park, and a one way system ensured an easy crowd flow. Everyone looked so happy that I was on the verge of tears. The Olympic volunteers will probably be the stars of the show. They were so keen and eager to please that they created a great impression. There was obviously a lot of pride on their part in being involved.

Troops were on the airport style security gates and got everybody through without fuss and with a smile and a joke. Job done!

Once inside you are hit by the size of the place. Everything is on a vast scale, with walks between venues taking up to half an hour, according to signs. The McDonald's is the biggest in the world*, and the stadia are huge. At the same time, the gardens have been planted with lots of lovely wild flowers that don't require gallons of water - ironic given the summer we've had.

Hoop dreams: the basketball arena

I knew little about basketball but the event itself was great entertainment. Expecting a fairly serious and sterile event, I was surprised to be given the full NBA experience with a garrulous American MC explaining what was going on, interviewing fans and generally geeing everybody up. There were practically no empty seats apart from the regulation Olympic family benches, where about a tenth were occupied.

We took out four year old, who seemed to enjoy himself. It was a gamble, and I'm not sure how much he'll remember in years to come, but at least I won't have to answer for his absence when he asks about it - unlike his two year old brother who we left with Nana. He made it through one and a half games of basketball, which is pretty good I think, even if he probably found the tipping seats more fun than anything. By the end of the day he was exhausted and slept all the way home on the train (cheap tickets to encourage people to leave the car at home - they've thought of everything).

Mascots meet: Wenlock, or is it Mandeville?

The next day we went to archery at Lords without a child in tow. It was another great day, and left me wishing I'd got more tickets. Still I guess we're lucky to have got something as lots of people missed out completely. Luckily the TV coverage is excellent, but if any corporate sponsors need a body to fill a seat, I'm very available... athletics, cycling, gymnastics, handball, synchronised swimming. Anything accepted.

Verdict on London 2012: don't believe the cynics... if you can find any.

* A word on McDonald's. There's plenty to dislike about them, and I know it's controversial to have a fast food outfit associating itself with elite performance, but logistically it's hard to see who else could have handled it - Jimmy's Farm? All of the smaller food and drink stands were out of their main selling point (no pretzels at Pretzels R Us; ditto Churros and Coffee, Waffle stand, and anything cakey - this was at elevenses, before the lunch time rush started. Glad we took sandwiches.) The Golden Arches was rammed at lunch time, but it had a system in place that was serving the masses pretty damn quickly and the prices were on a par with what you'd pay in the high street. Also, it had its crack four-star staff serving, and not the work experiencers of some of the other stands. We even got a seat. When you're wrangling a rapidly tiring four-year old, sometimes it's the only thing that will do.

Torch relay in Colchester

True Brits: Colchester braves the rain for the torch relay

The countdown continues.

Today the Olympic torch rolled into town on day 49 of its journey to Stratford. As luck would have it, the weather was truly appalling which was a real shame as yesterday was gorgeous. Maybe it was just as well that it was so bad as the number of people in town to watch was huge. Crowds were several deep all along the high street.

It was an early start for us even though we are only a few minutes from town. Usually we're awake at the crack of dawn but I almost overslept after a fitful night due to younger son being ill in the night. He was also being kept awake by his ride-on fire engine wailing constantly in the garden throughout the night, so I had to shuffle out in the downpour at about 3.00am to deal with that.

So we were all a bit slow out of the blocks and by the time we made it to town it was packed. I perched J on my shoulders to give him the best view I could and was reliant on him telling me when the action was bout to happen. He was probably more excited by the Police outriders than the torch runner who passed us in a flash. Oh well, at least I can say we were there, although my best shot from my camera phone was pretty rubbish. Mind you I was trying to hold on to a wriggly child at the time. Luckily the local paper is uploading a few better effort.

Little did I know I could have watched the whole thing live online.

On my bike

I have just registered for the new London bike hire scheme, which launches today. I was spurred on as I noticed several docking points while driving (whoops! Not very green) through Islington yesterday. There seemed to be a mass last minute exercise going on to 'bike up' all the docking points with the rather clunky looking machines that we will soon be able to ride.

Style should be the least of your worries when riding a bike, however of late it has become an activity that you need to be seen doing round these parts, preferably on a modish single speed bike or retro granny model. No need for bicycle clips either as trousers as worn drainpipe tight this year.

I doubt the  Barclays machines will go down particularly well with the London Fields massive as you will look as cool as a Tory on a bike. However, I was excited enough to register at about 11 last night, and am now waiting anxiously for my access key to arrive.

The scheme works by allowing you to pick up one of thousands of bikes from docking stations around the capital. You pay £3 for the key, rather like your Oyster card and then pay as you go. The first 30 minutes are free, so it may be possible to cross London by planning your route carefully and swapping bikes as you go. However the scheme is cheap enough at £1 per day, although there is higher rate if you don't have credit in your account. A full year's membership costs £45, which you'd struggle to buy a bike for anywhere - even in the thief's market of Brick Lane.

It is as yet unclear where all of the docking stations are. The website promises to locate them on a map, but they weren't there last night when I looked - not even the ones I spotted off Pentonville Road and next to Islington Sainsbury's. It will be something of an own goal if we don't have them in the Olympic boroughs as part of the bid has been about a green transport policy for visitors - as long as you are not a member of the IOC, which seems intent on traffic free carriage to the Lea Valley in special lanes.

For me, it will be an opportunity to get back on two wheels. I haven't had a bike for ages as there is not really room to store it in the flat. The only problem is that I doubt they come with kids seats. Maybe some enterprising sort will develop a quick release version that can used with hire bikes.

These sorts of schemes have been in action for a while in many European cities, such as Paris and Frankfurt. The key to their success, according to my sources, is speedy reallocation of bikes so they don't simply disappear from high traffic sites, such as railway stations to the periphery of the scheme. That, and removal and repair of any duff machines. I suspect there will be plenty of need in the early days as cycling novices, such as me, and local vandals put them through their paces. Overall though, what's not to like?

In depth report coming soon.

No coincidences in Sinclair world

Local author Iain Sinclair was signing the paperback copy of his book Hackney, That Red Rose Empire outside our local bookshop at the weekend. However I missed it due to an antenatal class at Homerton hospital. Well, my wife attended the class, while I walked the corridors of the spookily empty hospital explaining to our two year old the various things we saw.

(We're at the endless questions stage. "What's that daddy?"
"It's a chair."
"But what is it daddy?"
"Well, it's a chair actually."
"What does it do?"
Etc)

Actually, come to think of it, the experience was quite Sinclairian.

It was a shame to miss it though. Firstly, I wanted to see if he actually made it, or was blocked from Broadway Market by the council's henchmen. Apparently they took offence at his dim view of the Olympics and barred him from speaking in council venues when the book came out in hardback. They took a dim view of a lengthy piece he'd written in the London Review of Books voicing his concerns about the 'Lympics.

Secondly, having read the book I feel like I'm sort of stalking Iain, or he's stalking me. It's an odd sensation to have your stomping ground mapped so assiduously. My history in Hackney is just over ten years, whereas Iain's dates back to the Sixties or Seventies. We've both seen changes.

This was brought home to me the other week when I was browsing a book of photos of Hackney from the early Eighties. One of the black and white shots was of the playground next to the Pub on the Park. This is a favourite of ours and somewhere I've seen Iain Sinclair a couple of times with his wife and grandchild (I told you this post was stalkerish. In my defence, he mentions his grandchildren in the book, and their birth in Homerton Hospital. He is also highly visible in Hackney as he walks constantly around the borough).

Anyway, the playground in the picture was a rather depressing and bare place with a slide and some swings on a patch of scruffy grass. See Iain, some things do get better over time.

I suppose the point I'm working towards is that there are no coincidences in Sinclair world, so it was probably just as well that I didn't make it to the book signing. Who knows what might have happened. The earth might have folded in on itself or something.

The book itself is fascinating, although being so familiar with the area, I found that his slightly dyspeptic view of the borough didn't chime with my own. This hasn't been the case when I've read his other books - it's his unique perspective that I enjoy. But if his philosophy is about anything, it's about how we relate to our surroundings, and I guess I'm a bit of a happy, clappy Hackney champion. Hell, I even think the Olympics will be great. Yes the Lea Valley will have lost an urban wilderness, but it would have been developed sometime and somehow. At least with 2012 there is something of a grand plan in place, and I'm a sucker for those.

Maybe I'm too literal in how I think of psychogeography, but I was surprised that he didn't mention the effect of the borough's murder rate on Hackneyites. In the relatively short time that I've lived here I'm struck by the number of places that I now associate with death. Within a few hundred yards of here in any direction there are places where, usually young men have died. In front of the town hall, London Fields, Dalston Shopping Centre, Amhurst Road...

As I walk the borough I find it hard to dissociate myself from this violence, and yet I remain a great fan of Hackney and its people. It's a complex place.