Time For The Circus To Move On

Hard to believe that on 21 March at the conclusion of the Paralympic Games it will all be over.

Vancouver’s Olympic Games started with the horrifying death of an athlete and was followed by a series of glitches, none of which was lost on the British press. That venerable institution, The Times ridiculed Canada’s “Calamity Games”, but as time went on was forced to soften its tone as the Games got into stride. The rest, of course, is history.

And then there is Sochi, the Black Sea port city that will host the next Winter Olympics in 2014. Russia, uncharacteristically, had a poor medal showing at the Vancouver Games with the Russian President abruptly cancelling a scheduled visit to the closing ceremony, apparently in disgust. Their hockey team’s showing must have been the final straw.

“The Canadians came on to the ice like gorillas out of a cage” – supposedly a quote from the Russian goaltender. Canada won convincingly and the Russian superstars looked as though they were in shock.

Many of the Russian contingent I met in Vancouver didn’t smile a lot or spend much time on the usual pleasantries. In fact it became a bit of a game for me, as I tried to make eye contact and get a smile. The day of the Canada/Russia hockey game I smiled to those who met my gaze and muttered “Go Canada Go ---- but may the best team win”. Not much reaction.

The next morning I saw the same group of people, and one of the more stoic, took my arm and squeezed it slightly – “Your team better” he grimaced seriously.

Science World was Sochi House for the duration of the Games. The line up for the pavilion was long but people around us chatted amiably. It was a Spring-like day and there was lots to talk about as we slowly reached the entrance.

Once inside a young lady explained where Sochi was – most of the crowd didn’t seem to realize it was on the Black Sea. Movies were being shown, in Russian. Folk singers were in full voice, entertaining an appreciative crowd.

And then we went to the shop where official, and extraordinarily expensive, Russian team merchandize was on sale.

One of the other “must sees” during the Olympics was the Russian tall ship Kruzenshtern docked at Lonsdale Quay.

The Kruzenshtern, built in Germany in 1926, is one of the tallest sailing ships in the world and had to enter Vancouver's inner harbour at low tide.

This enormous vessel was absolutely magnificent and the Vancouver skyline provided a stunning backdrop that sunny afternoon. And yet while ship tours were being offered little English was spoken.

What a missed opportunity to learn more about one another - some good old fashioned PR would definitely have helped the cause.

So as the Olympic flag was passed between Vancouver and Sochi Mayors and the Moscow State Chamber Choir sang a stirring rendition of the Russian Federation anthem, I wondered what the next few years would bring as Sochi, and London, prepare for their "big shows".

When the circus comes to their respective towns in 2012 and 2014 I wish London and Sochi well - in their hearts they know that Vancouver 2010 set the gold standard and will be a very hard act to follow.

Golden Moments, All Fourteen Of Them

When Alexandre Bilodeau won gold in the men's moguls, you could almost feel the collective relief expressed by every Canadian - finally the curse of Canada never having won gold on home soil had been lifted.

And indeed it would have been soil had the Organizing Committee not been forced to truck in snow from Manning Park to keep winter on Cypress Mountain, fighting nature and one of the warmest winters on record. But they did it.

And the gold medals kept on coming.

But perhaps the sweetest golden moment of all was on the final afternoon of the Games.

The gold medal hockey game was the one we desperately wanted to win and if Canada had only managed to win one gold throughout the entire Games, this had to be it.

Canada's progress to the final game had been a nail-biting experience and this did not let up. As we watched Canada battle the USA in the winner take all final, stress levels mounted. And when the TV ratings were revealed it appears that practically everyone in the country had been compelled to stop what they were doing to watch and will the right outcome.

During a break in the coverage a panoramic view of Vancouver flashed across the screen and the announcer remarked on the eerie quietness of the city that sunny Sunday afternoon - where were all the people he pondered - where do you think .....

Thank you to the hockey gods for putting us out of our misery, even though the game went to sudden death overtime!

It was a fitting end to what had been a wonderful Winter Games on so many levels.

The zip trek lines that started before six in the morning, three hours before opening time at Robson Square.

Hudson's Bay Fever, as people lined three and four deep around the store to purchase their Olympic merchandise - who could leave town without a pair of those iconic red mittens.

Three to eight hour long waits, depending upon your line-up strategy, to get into the Mint's medal room to see and touch the Olympic and Paralympic medals.

The medals, worth about $1.8 million, based on current metal prices, depict contemporary First Nations artwork of an orca and a raven. Each medal is one of a kind, displaying a section from the artwork. Picking the medals up with special cotton gloves, we were surprised to find them heavy, wavy and spectacular.

In our easy going city, where walking along the seawall near Science World - or Sochi House during the Games - two familiar faces passed us in Team Sweden uniforms - Messrs Sedin and Ohlund were deep in conversation. But no one paid attention to these beloved hockey stars, how very Canadian.

The friendliness of the horses and the riders in Canada's fabled RCMP musical ride - one of the highlights of Surrey's Olympic Celebration Site at Holland Park.

And the sea of red and white everywhere, impromptu renditions of our National anthem and street hockey games that seemed to break out in exuberant moments of pure joy as another medal was nailed down by Team Canada (in addition to 14 gold, we managed 7 silver and 5 bronze medals).

Even our financial institutions jumped on the bandwagon with this amusing banner - and yes - RRSP deadline is looming fast.

Neil Young's "Long May You Run" was a fitting refrain as the Olympic flame was extinguished during the Closing Ceremony at BC Place. The flame in the cauldron on the waterfront expired at the same time - people remarked that if you had blinked you would have missed the moment.

And then the spectacle was over and it was time to draw breath on this escape from our collective realities.

To our Canadian Olympic athletes, you did us proud. Thank you. Now it's time for our Paralympians to take centre stage and compete for their own golden moments. I can hardly wait.

Not Very Canadian, Eh?

The Olympic Cauldron will become a permanent landmark on Vancouver's waterfront after the Winter Games are over at the end of February.

A magnificent structure in a spectacular setting – no doubt about that.

The Olympic flame which Wayne Gretzky used to ignite the outside cauldron (a ceremonial cauldron was also lit within BC Place Stadium) began its journey to Canada from Olympia, Greece some months ago after much pomp and ceremony.

After its arrival in Canada, the flame journeyed across the country and back through the longest domestic torch relay in the history of the Olympic Games. The relay inspired many – embodying the purpose of the Olympic flame – which is supposedly an ancient representation of peace, friendship and brotherhood.

Watching much of this activity on television, we were keen to see the Cauldron aflame for ourselves and savour the moment but were disappointed to find it secured by ugly chain link fencing.

Everyone around us hoping for that experience too also expressed their disappointment. All resorted to using what means they could to get a picture through the fencing.

“Its those protesters, they spoil it for everyone” was the explanation of the sole RCMP officer on the other side of the fence - a delightful lady from Halifax whose temporary home along with the other security forces is one of the cruise ships docked at Ballantyne Pier.

In one of life's ironies that day I mention “The Mechanics of Man” Leonardo Da Vinci’s priceless pen and ink drawings of the human body. These 500 year old drawings are part of Queen Elizabeth’s permanent collection at Windsor Castle and on loan to the Vancouver Art Gallery.

Apparently Da Vinci’s drawings are still used as reference in sports medicine today – such is their intricacy. And we were able to get up close and personal, touching - admittedly through glass - but nevertheless feeling as though a connection could be made with the creations of a genius.

No such connection could be made at the site of the Olympic Cauldron though.

The chain link fence isn’t the Berlin Wall - but really - it has to come down. What are we afraid of with all that security in town. This IS Canada after all!

Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport

When I was a kid, the whole family loved Rolf Harris, an Australian who entertained through his clever cartoons, creative murals, songs and storytelling. One of his songs, Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport was a big hit in the 1960s.

Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport tells a sardonic story about an Australian stockman on his deathbed and has become an Australian anthem right up there with Waltzing Matilda.

So, imagine the furor when Team Australia hoisted another of its country's icons on the balcony of their home for the Winter Games in the Olympic Village - the Boxing Kangaroo.

The International Olympic Committee was not impressed and verbally ordered the team to remove the offending banner citing it as "an inappropriate commercial trademark".

The official response from Team Australia was that the kangaroo would stay, at least until a formal letter was received from the IOC.

With the gauntlet dropped, the incident has become a rallying cry with all sorts of people stepping into the fray. Many have offered their opinions, all in favour of the Australian point of view, and some not too polite. As I sipped my morning coffee I found myself bursting into laughter when I heard my favourite retort from an unhappy Australian - "The Kangaroo stays Jacques, put that in your Belgian pipe and smoke it".

Whatever the outcome of the boxing kangaroo debacle, I hope it softens the hearts of those who are indifferent about the Winter Olympics and spurs them on to enjoy the Games, just seven days away.

So tie the kangaroo down, the fight isn't over yet. At half time it was Australia 1, IOC nil.

When the final whistle blew, the Aussies were victorious. The result - a TKO.

Let It Snow .... Please

While alpine skiing, bobsleigh, luge, skeleton, biathlon, cross-country skiing, Nordic combined events and ski jumping will take place at venues in Whistler, Blackcomb and Callaghan Valley, Cypress Provincial Park in West Vancouver - just half an hour from downtown - will host freestyle skiing (aerials, moguls, ski cross) and snowboard (half pipe, parallel giant slalom and snowboard cross).

Snow has been plentiful in the Whistler region several hours away from downtown Vancouver, but there is some nail biting going on at Cypress right now.

It had been a promising start to the winter on the local mountains with a good snow base forming until January brought milder temperatures and rain, lots of it.

Cypress Bowl is an attractive location for freestyle and snowboard events, but with an elevation of 915 Meters the snow level slowly dissipated as the rain persisted.

Extreme measures were warranted to ensure the events would go ahead as planned.

At the end of January we had an opportunity to see first hand the herculean efforts underway – helicopters had been airlifting in straw to form a strong base for the runs while large vehicles trucked in snow from higher elevations, and from further afield.

Cats groomed the slopes and gravel was brought in to smooth the way for spectator walkways which should have been hard packed snow.

The two temporary stadiums draped in Olympic colours stood empty in anticipation. The athletes say they are used to competing in poor snow conditions and seemed unfazed. So long as the runs are properly prepared they will go for it, even though the terrain around them could well be bare.

A little snow from natural sources, would however be appreciated in the next week or so. Is there such a thing as a snow dance?

Fourteen Days To Go!

The draping was underway in earnest and I found myself fascinated as I walked along Georgia Street to Burrard during that last week of January. The Olympic drapings were bold and colourful, somehow giving the city another dimension.

The Olympic clock that had been silently counting down the days since Vancouver-Whistler was awarded the 21st Winter Olympics in 2003 reminded me that it was just fourteen days to go until the show begins – the circus was indeed coming to town.

I felt a sense of anticipation, excitement and pride.

It didn’t feel like winter and those iconic red mittens weren’t needed today. January had been unseasonably warm and the North Shore Mountains which peeked though the breaks in the office towers of downtown were short of the white stuff.

While Whistler and Blackcomb had plenty of snow, a powdering of the local mountains over the next ten days would be nice – just enough to dress everything up for all those visitors to the region and the millions and millions of television viewers.

We are looking forward to the Games and hope to have stories to tell about the people we meet and their impressions of our city.

And of course not forgetting the purpose of it all - our athletes - Go Canada Go!

Harp Scratchings 13 - An Apple a Day

Our apple orchard was about a mile’s walk from the Harp. Located next to the railway bridge on a hairpin bend, over the years it had been the site of many an accident when a careless driver misjudged the turn and came into contact with the stone bridge.

Walking to the orchard was not one of my favourite things. There was no pathway, so we walked on the road and when oncoming traffic approached we would step onto the grass verge.

The long grass was generally damp and full of dandelions and nettles. The thought of what else might lurk in the depths of the roadside grasses was another matter never far away in my mind.

If I had bothered to look up and enjoy the view to the left of the road I would have forgotten about creepy crawlies in the grass and see the fields and meadows with their hues of green, yellow and brown blending into an uneven patchwork that stretched as far as the eye could see. The river Wye snaked its way through the hotchpotch into the distance.

To the right of the road the railway cutting formed a steep bank, and difficult as it was to access, it was a compelling place to go.

The wildflowers, flowering weeds and grasses growing on the bank formed a colourful carpet. In springtime, primroses and violets blanketed the slope. In summer it would be cowslips and poppies. Mum loved flowers as you'll see from some of her pressings.

Harvesting the cider apples required many hands. Armed with steel buckets and sacking we would walk to the orchard, unlock the gate and begin work. Over the years I helped Mum and Dad collect the fallen apples and put them into the loosely woven sacking bags, which when full would be sold to Bulmers Cider in Hereford for processing.

When I was younger Dad would bring a swing that was usually resident in the Harp’s cellar so that I could while away the time when he and Mum worked. The swing was comprised of thick rope which straddled a sturdy bough, while the ends were threaded though two holes drilled on each end of a flat piece of wood. Sturdy knots held the swing in place.

Apple picking generally coincided with the afternoon train that came from Three Cocks on its way to Hay and I would wave at the engine driver enthusiastically as the train passed. He would wave back. Those were the halcyon days of steam but the railway was unprofitable and fell to the Beeching Axe, the Government’s attempt in the 1960s to reshape British Rail.

I recall one occasion when some apples were held back from Bulmers so that the locals could produce home made cider.

The local apple processing enterprise was cloaked in mystery but I believe the initiative was led by the Hughes brothers in one of their barns.

What stands out in my mind is that all the men in the village seemed to have disappeared one particular afternoon. Mum was not amused because Dad was one of the missing. She knew they were sampling the unholy brew, alcoholic content unknown.

No one had a lot to say the following day. An apple a day keeps the doctor away ----- but not necessarily.