My Olympic Games 2012

My journey to the 2012 Olympic Games began some 18 months before the London spectacle even started.  In late 2010/early 2011 an email went out requesting media members to issue their interest in covering the Olympics.  Naturally everyone at the office responded positively to this email but who would actually go?

During my annual performance appraisal I made it known to my boss that I would love to be sent to London to cover the Games.  Some three months later and I received the exciting news that I would be going to the United Kingdom to cover the Olympic Games.  Durban-based Neil Raath would be my cameraman. I was immediately filled with excitement.  However it soon dissipated as it was some nine months before the actual event.  It was time to begin my research.

I realised my Olympic knowledge could do with improvement and I set about reading up as much as I could.  This even included listening to recordings on each of the previous Games (since 1896) on the flight from Johannesburg to London.

In the lead up to the Olympics I was tasked with picking ten medal-hopefuls and broadcasting a short feature piece on each of them. Almost all of my stories took place in Gauteng with the exceptions of Sunette Viljoen in Rustenburg and Chad Le Clos in Durban.  The latter interview afforded me the opportunity to work with Neil for the first time.

All the Olympic-related press conferences in the build-up were attended by Yours Truly.  These included the announcement of the final squad, the unveiling of the kit and mascot as well as on July 17^th, a week before I was scheduled to depart, a press briefing in Pretoria with the Chef de Mission, Patience Shikwambana.  The next day was a long one for me.  It started with community work by Team South Africa to tie in with the Mandela Day activities.  That evening a banquet took place in Sandton and by the end of it I was exhausted.  While the squad would depart from OR Tambo International Airport the following day I had managed to secure a short trip to Namibia to cover Team Toyota Motorsport’s 2013 Dakar Rally preparations in the Namib Desert near Walvis Bay.  My boss agreed to my request and off I was.

Arrival from Namibia was on Sunday 22^nd, Monday 23^rd was a preparation day and Tuesday 24^th I met Neil at OR Tambo.  The day had finally arrived.  We were on our way to the UK – both of us for the first time.  The SAA flight itself was as good as flights get.  I am not a fan of flying and try to sleep throughout but the Olympic history recordings captured my attention as I struggled to slumber anyway.

And then it was the morning of Wednesday, July 25^th and we touched down in the British capital.  My excitement superseded any tiredness I may have been feeling.  Our media accreditation badges that we received in advance acted as a visa waiver so all I really had to have with me was my travel bags and passport.  The accreditation card was validated and laminated and the friendly purple shirt-clad volunteers escorted us to the train that would take us to Paddington Station.  This was another exciting moment – my first British rail experience.

Given the heavy equipment Neil and I were carrying around it came as a relief to put everything down on the train’s floor.  This included my main travel bag, backpack, Neil’s big bag as well as all our broadcast equipment which made up about three more bags.

The train halted at Paddington.  We grabbed our bags and followed the volunteers to the press area where a taxi was waiting to transport us to our hotel.  Or at least where we would wait for a taxi.  That was just as well as you will soon read.  While waiting we were handed delicious maple-flavoured oats biscuits.  When offered “seconds” I thought it clever to put it in my back pack.  As I reached to take my backpack off my back I came to the shocking realisation that it was not there.  I had left it behind somewhere.  After a few seconds of frantic panic my logic concluded that it had to have been left on the train.  My alarm stemmed from all the valuable items that I had kept in the backpack.  Among these were my camera, UK power adaptor, chargers for my camera and phone and most significantly all my forex!  Yes, the full complement of £1 200 (more than R15 000) was in a bank bag in my backpack.

Noticing my angst, a volunteer came rushing over.  After I explained my situation to him he got on his walky-talky.  Then another volunteer was on his walky-talky.  Neil looked at me and commented that the bag was most likely gone.  Call it cynicism, call it Afro-pessimism but when you hail from South Africa you expect certain outcomes from situations and had this been back home there was every chance of the bag being stolen.  Then a volunteer asked me to accompany him.  Much to my puzzlement while escorting me to the station master’s office he explained, “Sir, this situation is in your favour,” but before I could fall over from shock he continued, “Because British people usually do the right thing.”  I was certainly hoping so.  I had been praying in English and in Tongues since he first got onto his walky-talky.

As we reached the station master’s office I was asked to describe the bag.  The station master then asked if there was a large amount of money in the bag.  I nodded furiously before she pulled a black backpack with a Kaizer Chiefs logo on it from behind her back and asked, “Is this your bag, Sir?”  I was so relieved, so happy that I could have kissed her.  But I did not.  I just thanked her and thanked God.  What a start to the Olympic trip.

Following the drama a taxi transported us to the Royal Scot Travelodge in King’s Cross where we would be staying for the next three weeks.  We were greeted by rather unfriendly staff who informed us we could only check in after 15:00.  Hardly ideal considering it was not yet 10:00.  We were invited to put our bags in storage in the meantime.  I told Neil it would be a good idea to go find the Olympic Park and familiarise ourselves with the precinct as well as the route to and from the area.  To put it in context King’s Cross is in central-west London and the Olympic Park was in east London.

Of course we had no idea where we were going or what we were doing for that matter.  All media had been issued with an oyster card that ensured free usage of London’s rail system.  That helped.  And so we were on our first tube hoping to get to the Olympic Park.  As was expected we got off at the wrong station and got horribly lost.  But not before I left my oyster card on a train and only realised it as the train sped off.  At that point I was ready to come back home.  It was not yet lunchtime, we had been in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland less than six hours and already I had experienced enough heart-stopping moments for a whole year.

Eventually we would make our way to Olympic Park and I was issued with a replacement oyster card.  Things did start to go better except for a phone call from the office asking for an interview on a story they were running.  How on earth I was supposed to find someone in a place I had never been before without camera equipment is still beyond me.  I told them I would try my best but I knew full well there was no chance of it happening.  I am sure I was not asking for too much just to have the day to myself to try and find my way around and familiarise myself with London.

As the days passed we would become well acquainted with Starbucks.  This became our coffee shop of choice and I fell in love with the strawberry frappuccino as well as the caramel waffles.  Another victorious moment was discovering the high-speed Javelin train and as God arranged it the train bulleted from King’s Cross to Olympic Park in seven minutes.  The Javelin became our best friend.  Something else that helped tremendously was Vodacom kindly donating simcards pre-loaded with £40 (More than R520).  I boxed so clever that I only ran out of airtime on the eve of the Closing Ceremony.

On the eve of the Opening Ceremony we were due to tour the Olympic Residential Village but that trip was sadly cancelled.  No media are actually allowed in there and it represented our only chance to see what it looks like inside.  There went a potentially great story.  Another place Neil and I had no business going to was the Aquatics Centre.  E News is what they call an Electronic Non Rights-Holder or ENR and the restrictions on ENRs border on the severe.  All swimming events are considered high demand events and ENRs are not allocated any tickets to these.  Moreover ENRs cannot take filming or recording equipment into venues, including the use of live mobile phone links in the mixed zone. The only venue in to which an ENR is allowed to bring a camera to film is the Main Press Centre (MPC).   I should point out that at least three times in the MPC we were told that we were not even allowed to sit where we were sitting!

Naturally the Opening and Closing Ceremonies are also high demand events so no chance of us attending that either.  We watched the Opening Ceremony on the television in our hotel rooms and having failed to read all the rules, we pitched up at cycling the next morning only to be told as ENRs we were not permitted to have our equipment with us.

As you can imagine there is something very disheartening about all of that.  How on earth were we to cover these Olympic Games I began to wonder.  We had access to press conferences at the MPC as well as various sponsor press opportunities.  However we were under pressure to deliver good stories for the news every night back home.  Factor in the great travel times between destinations and suddenly you have to keep a strong head on your shoulders or else you could be in very deep waters.

It took around three days for Neil and I to realise exactly what our limitations were going to be and then we resolved to work within those.  From that point onwards things became easier.  We also shot as many interviews as possible when an opportunity presented itself.  We would store these for quieter days and it would ultimately save our bacon during the final week.  A small ‘media centre’ had been set up in Kensington for SA media to file from including free wireless internet.  Press conferences with all South Africa’s medal winners were conducted there.  That provided us with an avenue for stories but it was not enough.

It certainly helped us that South Africa was doing well.  Cameron Van Der Burgh, Chad Le Clos and the men’s Lightweight Four rowers all produced gold medals.  Le Clos would win a silver as would Caster Semenya while Bridgitte Hartley brought home a bronze.  It would equal the country’s best ever showing at the Olympics in terms of gold and overall medals won.  This made our job easier together with all the hype around Oscar Pistorius, who provided us with at least three days’ worth of stories.

There was one more scare for us.  Neil decided that we would use a directional microphone mostly.  This is the fluffy grey mic.  Most often Neil would use a boom when I was doing my pieces to camera.  I was wrongfully put in charge of looking after the pole.  I guess I do not have to explain what happened next.  The pole was left behind time and time again.  The first panic-stricken occurrence was when I left it behind at Trafalgar Square.  This would lead me to nickname the object ‘The asherah pole’ after the item that brought so much grief to the Israelites during Old Testament times.

On a personal level I took great offence when I received an email from the office expressing unhappiness with the style of stories we were producing.  I was asked to be more like Robin Adams, a former colleague.  In my anger I thought if they wanted Robin Adams why did they let him go to Al Jazeera?  If they wanted Robin Adams why did they send Peter Stemmet?  I even went so far as to get contact details for SABC Sport’s editors.  I think I used great wisdom in not making an emotional decision and after a few days I calmed down.

There was also an incident on the tube one night when a woman came to sit next to me.  Moments later she barked out a nasty cough.  Days later I was suffering from a sore throat and was coughing too.  I sought medical help at Boots but its effectiveness was limited.  It would only get sorted out when I returned to South Africa.  Thank God for Dischem!

Thankfully the happy moments outweighed the bad ones.  We found great entertainment from London mayor Boris Johnson who is so hands on that he acted as the voice artist on a radio advert encouraging Londoners to prepare themselves for greater pressure on the transport system during the Olympic Games. “Don’t get caught out!” became our comic relief line of choice.

We also managed to find time to visit Wimbledon, Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle, Piccadilly Circus, the West End, Westminster Abbey, Cool Britannia, Sports Direct and Hamleys.  Our Madame Tussauds ticket also got us access to the London Eye.  At the wax museum I posed in comical positions with models of David Cameron, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Christina Aguilera, Barack Obama, Adolf Hitler, Rafael Nadal, Tiger Woods and the British Royal Family among others.  One of the highlights at the famous wax museum is a 4D theatre where a short marvel animation is played.  In the film Spider-Man teams up with his Marvel sidekicks to capture the thief who stole the Crown Jewels.  If you have never enjoyed a 4D experience I highly recommend that you do.

The middle Sunday provided us with extra time off and I hopped on a tube to the West End where one of the theatres houses Hillsong London.  I thoroughly enjoyed my visit to the famous church’s London HQ and as an added bonus one of my favourite pastors, Chris Hill was the evening’s guest speaker.

Admittedly I found London’s citizens to be particularly unfriendly.  Apparently this is a well-known reputation around the rest of Great Britain.  However I still had a wonderful time in the British capital.  Neil and I both agreed that it was sad in so many ways that it had come to an end and the cliché about time going by fast when one is having fun certainly holds true.  Lest we forget that had it not been for our ENR status let alone British people usually doing the right thing it could have all been so very different.  To put it in context my friend Nick Gordon, who writes for The Citizen, said at the end of the Games that all he had seen was his hotel, the Olympic Park and the back of his eyelids.  By the time it was over I was in no position to lose any sleep over what I did not see of London.