A Century Since the Last Paris Olympics
It has now been a century since the last Paris Olympics, famously depicted in the emotive 1981 film Chariots of Fire. I can vividly remember the opening scene featuring British athletes running along the beach, accompanied by Vangelis’ iconic anthem. It’s astounding to think that film was released 43 years ago. If this year’s Olympic Games prove to be even half as thrilling as the 1924 event, it will be quite an accomplishment.
With the festivities kicking off in Paris this weekend, I decided it was the perfect moment to indulge in some French cuisine to embrace the spirit of the games. This evening, I plan to enjoy “poisson frites” along with a side of “petit pois.” It certainly sounds more delightful than the usual fish and chips with peas. For breakfast tomorrow, I might try making a “croque monsieur,” which we refer to in the UK as a “toastie.”
An interesting historical tidbit that may have slipped from memory is that Bangkok once bid to host the 2008 Olympics, a contest ultimately won by Beijing. Unfortunately, the City of Angels didn’t advance past the preliminary vote, scoring especially low in terms of “general infrastructure,” a point that’s hard to dispute.
It’s likely that the members of the International Olympic Committee were deterred by the notorious traffic jams on Sukhumvit Road. Or perhaps they had a less-than-pleasant experience riding in a tuk tuk, a mode of transport not advised for the faint of heart.
The Big Mango Games
Some might argue that Bangkok hosts its own, albeit unconventional, Olympics every day.
Almost everyone must have experienced the “20-meter pedestrian crossing sprint.” This task proves challenging even for Olympians. Bangkok’s pedestrians have also achieved high levels in the “Hop, Skip, and Jump,” a skill necessary for dodging potholes, street vendors, and passing motorcycles.
An additional athletic challenge could involve “chasing down drivers fleeing the scene.” The downside to this event is that it could land you in Nakhon Nowhere. Swimming events could be staged at the bathing facilities of the city’s nightlife venues. Just a few lengths in the hot tub at the Happy Fingers massage parlor would likely tire even the fittest competitors.
For those who prefer a less rigorous sport, the Snoring Marathon might catch their interest. This event has become particularly popular among officials who have been reassigned to inactive posts, though as a spectator sport, it can be rather dull.
Walk, Don’t Run
The Olympics are sure to ignite the familiar phenomenon of “Running Feet” (joggus chronicus) in Bangkok. Simply head over to Lumpini Park or any green space in the coming weeks, and you’ll find hordes of hopefuls thundering around, dreaming of standing on podiums with medals hanging around their necks.
However, this enthusiasm often doesn’t last long, as many of these aspiring Olympians end up in hospitals dealing with blisters, groin strains, ruptures, and jogger’s nipple. Ultimately, the only significant exercise they engage in tends to be racking up bills.
Beijing Experiences
I happened to be in Beijing shortly before the 2008 Olympics. At that time, the local authorities were not accustomed to managing large crowds of international visitors, and residents had stringent orders to welcome all foreigners warmly. We were continually greeted by friendly locals practicing phrases like “hello,” “good morning,” “you’re welcome,” and “thank you.”
Hotel staff were particularly eager, and just entering the coffee shop would elicit enthusiastic “good mornings” from every waitress, regardless of the time of day.
While covering a golf tournament, I noticed about a dozen female caddies lined up near the clubhouse, all giving a synchronized “good morning” to every passerby, reminiscent of a classroom greeting a teacher. If there were an Olympic event for synchronized greetings, China would undoubtedly take home the gold medal.
The Air Show
This week also marked another significant event, albeit on a smaller scale than the Olympics—the Farnborough International Air Show, which brings back many personal memories. Nearly every summer during the 1950s and 60s, my family would stay at my grandmother’s house, which backed onto the Farnborough airfield in the Hampshire village of Cove.
I relished the weeks leading up to the show when the planes would rehearse their maneuvers daily. Just glancing up at the sky would reveal all the latest aircraft flying in formation. It was a daily air show at no cost.
The highlight for me was the Black Arrows (later known as the Red Arrows) swooping low over my grandmother’s house, creating an unforgettable experience accompanied by the thunderous noise they produced.
The Vulcan Howl
Among the jets, the Hawker Hunters were not the loudest; that title belonged to the Avro Vulcan bombers. Their distinctive roar, known as the “Vulcan Howl,” was truly a sight to behold. When the Vulcan took off, it would rattle our entire house, prompting my grandmother to seek refuge in the pantry to escape the noise.
The British took great pride in the Vulcan bomber, which was retired in 1984. The “Howl” even became a cultural icon; it was a magnificent display to witness.
