Although there will be no kicking of a such. If the rumours are to be believed the opening ceremony will include, but not limited to, the Coldstream Guards marching to Blur’s Parklife and Russell Brand singing a ‘comedy’ version of God Save the Queen. Oh it will be great, especially for those in the stadium who paid at least £2012 for a ticket. I mention the Olympics because on Wednesday the torch arrived in Dover to spend the night at one of the town’s world famous bed and breakfast establishments. Probably, it spent the night in the back of a van somewhere between Dover and Deal where it began the grand tour around Thanet on Thursday.
I thought it would be a jolly thing to do, to go along and snap the occasion, the people and maybe the person carrying the torch into the town; so I booked a day off, ordered tickets from Ticketmaster, which despite being free carried a £2 administration charge. By Monday the ticket still hadn’t arrived and I mailed Ticketmaster and they said in reply that a duplicate could be picked up from the sports centre on the day.
No problem, then. But it became clear this was a much larger problem as I looked on the Dover Locals website to see many hadn’t received their tickets either. Hmmmmm. Anyway, more of that a little later.
So, Wednesday dawned; Jools headed to walk and I laid in bed until the very late time of half six. So, I messed around until half ten before setting off. It wasn’t raining, but it was breezy, but the light was interesting enough and sunlight casting pools of light over the fields as I headed into the village and then onto the cliffs beyond.
It was bracing at the cliffs, the breeze was quite strong, and blowing from the direction of Dover, so it was blowing in my face the whole way. But that was good, and I loved the view. I mean its been 14 months since I last did this walk, and it was great. In several places cliff falls had taken place meaning the path strayed nearer the edge than it used to. There were more than a few people walking along as well, and for the most part we wished each other the day’s greetings. All very civilised.
I got to the National Trust’s place, and headed down to Athol Terrace and along Townwall Street, past the sports centre where my ticket was supposed to be waiting. As I walked down the cliffs, rain could be seen sweeping in from the direction of Folkestone. I decided to go to a pub until it was time to collect my ticket. I had planned to go to the First and Last, but to my surprise it was closed and boarded up. So, it was the White Horse.
Up past the sports centre and into the pub for a pint or two and a bag of crisps. I had not been in here before, and the graffiti seen from outside showed itself to be the names, dates and crossing times of cross-channel swimmers, and there were hundreds of them written on the walls and ceilings inside the pub. It was great to llok at, and I spotted the name of Jools’ niece written there!
At two I headed to the sports centre to pick up my ticket to find hundreds of people there waiting to pick up tickets as well. The woman beside me told that when she called Ticketmaster the night before, she was assured she was the only one who had not received their tickets. This was clearly a lie as we had to wait 40 minutes in line, and as we waited more joined behind us and as I collected my ticket the queue was out the door.
I walked to the promenade were an area had been cordoned off and waited at security to gain entry. I was holding my camera with a standard lens fitted. The guard saw it and remarked that it was good it wasn’t over 6 inches long. I joked that the lens in my bag was. He stiffened, that can’t be brought in he said. I thought he was joking, but no. He checked with his boss after I explained how could I know the terms and conditions if I had only received my tickets I argued. It was on the website says he.
I laughed, a bitter kind of laugh that comes after a day’s holiday wasted, and the thought of a 5 mile walk back home that beckoned. As I walked away from the promenade, I found someone to give my ticket to, and head back to another pub to wait for Jools to finish work so I could get a lift home as there were no taxis to be had in the town.
Laying in bed, we heard to fireworks being let off at ten, it would have been a very long evening, but would have been nice to have the choice whether to stay rather than be confronted by stupid rules and jobsworths. This morning the torch passed within a hundred yards of my office, and I did not go to watch and had left my cameras at home. I just can’t be arsed with it all. Shame really…..
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