It's been 100 years since the last Paris Olympics which was dramatically portrayed in the stirring 1981 film Chariots of Fire. I can still picture that opening scene with the British athletes running along the beach to the sounds of that Vangelis anthem. It's hard to believe that was made 43 years ago. If this year's Olympics are even half as exciting as the 1924 event it will be an achievement.
With the action already under way in Paris this weekend it felt an appropriate time to treat myself to some French cuisine to get into the spirit of things. So this evening I will be tucking into "poisson frites'' with perhaps a side dish of "petit pois". It certainly sounds more appetizing that fish 'n chips with peas. For tomorrow's breakfast I might even have a stab at "croque monsieur" or what we call in the UK a "toastie".
Something that may have been forgotten is that Bangkok once put in a bid to host the 2008 Olympics which was eventually won by Beijing. Unfortunately the City of Angels didn't get past the preliminary vote, scoring particularly poorly on "general infrastructure," something that was hard to argue with.
One suspects that sweating it out in the Sukhumvit Road traffic gridlock was enough for International Olympic Committee delegates to give the Big Mango the thumbs down. Or maybe they had an apocalyptic experience aboard a tuk tuk, a vehicle not recommended for those of a nervous disposition.
Big Mango Games
Some might argue that Bangkok hosts a daily Olympics anyway, although admittedly of a somewhat unorthodox nature.
Just about everyone must have experienced the "20-metre pedestrian crossing dash". This is always a challenge even if you are an Olympian. Bangkok pedestrians have also already reached high standards in the "Hop, Skip and Jump" a skill acquired by avoiding pavement potholes, vendors and passing motorcycles.
An additional athletics challenge could be "Chasing drivers fleeing the scene". The one drawback with this event is that you might end up in Nakhon Nowhere. Swimming events could be held at the bathing facilities of the city's nighttime establishments. Three lengths of the hot tub in the Happy Fingers massage parlour would be enough to exhaust even the strongest competitors.
Those that prefer a less strenuous sport might find the Snoring Marathon of interest. It has become a popular event dominated by officials transferred to inactive posts, although as a spectator sport it can be bit of a yawn.
Walk, don't run
The Olympics will no doubt spark the usual outbreak in Bangkok of "Running Feet" (joggus chronicus). Just wander over to Lumpini Park or any other green spot in the coming weeks and you will find hundreds of delusional souls thundering around with visions of standing on podiums with medals dangling from their necks.
The enthusiasm doesn't usually last long as many of these budding Olympians end up receiving hospital treatment for blisters, groin strain, ruptures and jogger's nipple. In the end the only meaningful exercise they experience is running up a bill.
Beijing greetings
I happened to be in Beijing shortly before the 2008 Olympics. The authorities weren't used to handling large crowds of overseas visitors and the local populace were under strict orders to make all foreigners welcome. We were constantly greeted by smiling locals practicing "hello", "good morning", "you're welcome" and "thank you."
Hotel staff were particularly enthusiastic. You only had to enter the coffee shop to be greeted by every waitress with a breezy "good morning" even when it was afternoon or evening.
I was covering a golf tournament at the time and near the clubhouse about a dozen female caddies were lined up and everyone who walked past them was greeted with "good morning" but this time in unison, like a school class greeting a teacher. If there was an Olympic event for synchronized "good mornings'' China would win the gold medal.
The air show
Another big event this week, although on a much smaller scale than the Olympics, has been the Farnborough International Air Show which sparks some strong personal memories. Nearly every summer in the 1950s and 60s our family would stay at my grandmother's house which backed onto Farnborough airfield in the Hampshire village of Cove.
I loved it because in the weeks preceding the show the planes would rehearse their moves every day. Just look up in the sky and there were all the latest planes in action. It was a free daily air show.
The highlight was the Black Arrows (later Red Arrows) swooping low over grandma's house and combined with the racket they made it was altogether a mind-blowing experience.
The Vulcan Howl
The Hawker Hunters however were not the loudest jets. That honour went to the Avro Vulcan bombers and the noise they made became known as the "Vulcan Howl". Watching them take off was a sight to behold and when the Vulcan took to the air the whole house rattled. That was the signal for grandma to take refuge in the pantry to escape the racket.
The British were very proud of the Vulcan bomber which was retired in 1984. The "Howl" even became a kind of cultural icon. It was an awesome spectacle.
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