In which I share the Olynks (Olympic links, see?) that have distracted and entertained me this week, you point out that some actually aren’t FROM this week, and one of them isn’t even about the Olympics, and I burst into tears.
It’s about that time.
About three years ago I was crossing the road at a busy central London junction when I came face-to-face with the most terrified-looking man I have ever seen wearing a shell suit. Clearly a tourist, he was clutching to him an identically-dressed woman, and they looked vaguely middle-aged, and vaguely central European.
The junction was crammed with pedestrians, and each time this couple and I tried to step past each other we inevitably ended up blocking each other. In my experience, this normally causes people to tut or smile, but this pair just glared at me as though I was planning to remove their life savings from their bum-bags via their oesophagi.
Finally the shell-suited man reached out, yanked my folded umbrella from my hand, and threw it into the road. As I stood there, momentarily disabled by shock, the tourist couple legged it to the opposite pavement.
Because I live and work in London, I thought that when the Olympics arrived I’d be having experiences like this on a minute-by-minute basis, but it’s actually been brilliant. Everyone’s stayed home so there are seats on the train. I’m bypassing major London stations for the duration, and walking rather than taking the Tube, which means that my daily commute is like the beginning of 28 Days Later – all empty, sun-washed streets and long shadows. It’s lovely.
Also, despite bemoaning the Olympics at length because I’m not sporty, I’ve actually got into it a bit, because the opening ceremony reduced me to tears (not sure which bit though. The Hobbits? Brunel? David Beckham’s neon speedboat?) and, you know, some of those fellows can run really quite fast.
Anyway, here are some Olynks:
The funny faces Olympic divers pull while diving. Inevitably, I’m now terrified that, in retaliation, an Olympian will come and snap a candid headshot of me puffing away on the cross-trainer.
The best and worst Olympics uniforms. The Spanish kit, designed by Russian company Bosco, is making me hungry.
When memes collide: Boris Johnson dangling from a zip-wire meets Usain Bolt gold medal vogueing.
And, not Olympic at all, but why you shouldn’t play video games with Batman: