Day 9 - Release the Tiger

With the athletics now finished it's time to see a few other sports.
Thankfully I brought these tickets well in advance so I will actually see some sport. First up was Hockey.
The previous night England's men's team had lost in the semis to India on penalties after a 3-3 draw. The women has also fallen in the semis,
which meant that they'd be playing South Africa for the bronze.
Thanks to India's love of hockey it was pleasing to see a decent crowd and an even more decent venue.
I was greeted by the oddest sign yet at the games. I still don't understand what it was trying to say.

Temperatures pitch side were over 40 degrees and hence didn't make for good hockey. I don't remember South Africa as being a power in women's hockey but they played quite well. England seemingly drained by the competition and
the heat played quite a tactical game, some might say poor. The only goal came from a bit of a hit and hope. Thankfully it went to England. Not a classic but a medal none the less.
After a short break spent re-hydrating (still no drinks in the venue) and some bird watching the final bullied-off.

Australia v New Zealand turned out to be a great game. The Aussies steamrollered the Kiwis early on and it looked like a thumping was on the cards. Somehow they got to half-time only 1-0 down but I didn't fancy there chances.
What do I know. The match ended drawn at 2-2 so it was off to golden goals. Much in the nature of football golden goals both teams were more worried about losing than winning. Hence the dreaded penalties. I don't know why but New Zealand never looked like winning, they were, to a girl, knackered
and were soundly beaten 4-2. Why they didn't gamble in the golden goals defeats me.
Two good games but they'd have been so much better played in the evening. When the temperature drops below 30. 
Next up were the boxing finals. I was picked up by out travel company and we started off to the venue. The only problem was that it didn't open for 2 hours. I tried to explain to our guide Vinny that I didn't want to sit out side a venue for 2 hours and to drop me in Connaught Place and I'd have some lunch and get a cab to the venue.
He was having none of it and said he couldn't leave me. I'm not sure if he feared for my safety or his bonus. We settled on going to McDonalds were I eat and drank and he read the paper and played on his phone. Sitting on the pavement outside the venue now seemed the better option.

Arriving early I got talking to an Irish couple who gave me the rundown on the afternoon's final; the running order for this evening; a general form guide and most of their life history.
Would you believe it they'd lived for 26 years in Balham south London two roads from where I was born. Small world.
A wondrous sight met me as I entered the boxing arena. Not a bar or some of those scantily clad round number girls you get at Ceasar's Palace. No, none other than the CWG mascot Shera.
Now I 've gone on about the absence of merchandising but we've also missed out on a 'real live' Shera. Something of a Frostie's tiger rip-off, he adorns many a billboard in Delhi.
As a good mascot does he waved, clapped, had is picture taken and even signed autographs. What a pity we were now less than 24hrs from the closing ceremony.
  

From the home countries there were 3 English boxers and 2 Northern Irish. The bouts went something like this:-
- India walkover against a Kenyan. All the lad had to do was get into the ring and he'd win. In a show of Amir Khan style theatrics he chose to flip over the top rope and proceeded to fall on his arse.
I laughed out load ... nobody else did.
- India whoops English man who seemed to have forgotten all his boxing basics. If you're going to fight the local lad either score loads of points or knock him out. He did neither.
- Irish man give boxing master class. My man from Balham had tipped me this boxer call Eamon O'Kane. Unlucky for me he was facing an English lad and I was sitting with his mum, dad, two (useful looking) mates and two (stunning looking) sisters.
  Balham man was proved right as Eamon boxed beautifully. The score was flattering but he deserved victory. My reward, consolatory hand shakes from the family and a kiss from mum. I didn't chance a kiss from the sisters in case the mates took offence.  
- English man TKO's Irish man who didn't seem interested and turned his back after 90 seconds. This left the locals bemused. There answer was to boo the English lad, both from the ring and during the medal ceremony.
Terribly bad form. I bet they wouldn't have done it to his face.
- Last up was another Indian against a huge Trinidadian. The guy had muscles on his muscles and look like he'd eat Rocky for breakfast. I sort of wanted him to KO the Indian as there fans were starting to annoy me.
No such luck. The muscle mountain had forgotten two important things. Technique and stamina. He was as mobile as a wardrobe, couldn't hit the proverbial barn door and had less stamina than my mum.
Funniest sight of the evening. The Indian teenage lads try to decide whether to get a picture with their new gold medallists or with the pretty young Irish girls. We'll call that one a draw.

I fun night all round.        

Day 8 - All sold out. Or why half the venues are empty.

I know it sounds odd and I shouldn't really say it but I quite like Lawn Bowls. Maybe it's my age, maybe it's the dapper white clothing or maybe it's that like golf most clubs have a clubhouse which is also a bar. Earlier this year I was in Spain and had the pleasure of watching England bowl against Spain (otherwise know as England B). I was pleased to see that the average age was in the 20's, most would pass for athletes and that because it was the last day of the football season they all rushed to finish their games so that they could watch the footy and drink loads of beer.
It's because of this that I though it would be nice to go to the stadium early, pick up a ticket for the bowls and cheer on the team. After my previous metro trip I was pleased to find it much quieter and with 20 mins I was at the ticket office. The queue was only short but I was still ushered to the front, obviously they feared my pale skin may burn in the sun! "One for the bowling please" I said, only to be told that all the tickets had been sold. Unheard of, it can't be true 1500+ Indians had been so impressed by the CWG that they had decided to spend 50 rupees to watch 13 hours of bowl. No chance.
After informing the ticket office that bowls never sell out, even in England they're lucky to get a couple of hundred in, I was shown the computer screen that said no tickets available.  No the same as all sold out.
Plan B, I walked round to the venue and had a look over the fence. Deserted, maybe 30 spectators, no more.

More arguing got me no where. Ticketing said it was all sold out and everybody else said go and ask ticketing. I know for a fact that the same think happened at the Rugby 7's. I believe the head of ticketing has been sacked!

Further investigation leads me to believe that the idiot running ticketing though that two separate ticketing databases was the answer, one for box office sales and one for Internet. I could have ordered a ticket the day before and picked it up ... but not from the box office ... oh no ... from a bank in Connaught Place. Sacked! I'd have shot him.

So a wasted morning, the only solution was to seek out a kingfisher and drown my sorrows. The evening brought the last day of athletics. Double gold for England in the 4 x 100m and double bronze in the 4 x 400m (the women have since been promoted to silver after another Nigeria got done for doping).

All the races were exciting but the Indian women's victory really brought the roof down. The time wasn't much but they were first over the line and that's what matters. It was great to see the stadium almost full and the Indians cheering ... at the right time. Sorry, that's a bit petty, they're new to track and field and often don't know what's going on.

On the field the last medals were wrapped up a Nigerian and a couple of Aussies. So nice to hear that anthem just a couple more times!

The remainder of the track program was the women's 5000m ... you guessed Kenyan clean sweep and the men's 1500m ... you guessed ... wrong. Nick Willis of New Zealand snatched the bronze much to the pleasure of the Kiwi's sitting in front of us. As they were neither Aussies or Kenyans we applauded them heartily. Surprise surprise it was his parents and very proud they were too.

So there ends the athletics. Star English performance from me goes to Jo Jackson. A sport she was pushed into by her coach who said she'd never make it to the top as a runner. It's not the most glamorous of events but if she medals in London in 500 odd days she'll be known the whole country over.

I have in my possession a short video of Jo Jackson and Will Sharman dancing on stage with a traditional Indian dance company. Both gave respectable performances but Will's the one to watch out for. His sister told me that he's a keen dancer and has been taking lessons for his wedding. I'll bet you any money he does celebrity come dancing within two years of retiring. If you want to see the video ask me nicely when I'm back.  

Day 7 - In search of merchanise

No events to watch this morning so it was of in search of the elusive merchandise. My only previous "multi-sport" even was the Athens Olympics. Whilst I know that the CWG are on a smaller scale I did think that with a huge population and a manufacturing base India would have milked the merchandising cow dry. Quite the opposite. There are 8 merchandising stores. Of these 6 are no more than the local version of McDonalds, one is in Connaught Place at a "store" called Giggles and the last is within the confines of the CWG building. As we know that access to the later is restricted to those with accreditation it was to Giggles we headed. 
I'm not sure what I expect; a department store like John Lewis or Allders; a supermarket chain like Asda or even a 'pop-up shop' just for the games. In fact what we found was in the best tradition of Indian shopkeepers ... a corner shop! Honestly this place was no bigger than your local paper shop. Three members of staff and bugger all stock. In total they had 5 badges, 20 puzzles, 30 visors, 10 scarves and an assortment of transfer printed tee-shirts totalling no more than 70. I've seen better stock in a petrol station. Having spent the princely sum of £12 I now own 20% of there stock!
A future raid on the CWG building is planned as rumours of 'mugs' are circulating town and that access can be gained with an England baseball cap and some arguing. 
After a morning of retail therapy, it was coffee and muffins for lunch at an India coffee chain. It had all the trapping of Starbucks just rubbish service and poor coffee. Starbucks are going to clean up when they arrive. Costa Coffee next time.
As we were already in the center of town we decided to ride the metro to the stadium using our free tickets. In Athens you just walked onto the buses, trams or metro. Flashed your games ticket and off you went. No such luck in Delhi. Bureaucracy rules. What's involved; a security check worthy of an Eminem concert to get into the station; visit to 'customer care' to initial ticket stub; write down ticket number and destination; visit to guard to check ticket and allow access to station; on arrival at destination remove ticket and hand to guard to exit station. Thankfully the stations aren't bad, not the Moscow underground or even the new bits of the 'tube' but modern, clean, spacious and well signed. Our big mistake was that an Indian v Pakistan hockey was being played near a station on our route. The platform was packed with each carriage door having a soldier and an official to monitor it. When the brand new German/Italian/French train arrived it was a sight to behold, the pinnacle of European engineering. Filled to 3 times legal capacity with hockey crazed Indians. We decided to pass on this on and get the next ... same thing. At this point I have to report that we had 2 ladies with us and despite initially refusing to travel in the ladies only carriage they soon changed there minds and left us to fend for ourselves. train 3 and it was do or die, literally (no really literally). When the doors opened half of Indian tried to leave the train whilst the other half plus 6 Brits tried to join it. The pushing and shoving was on a biblical scale but eventually we were on board, no space, no air but on board. Now the fun starts. Station 1, door open, everybody shuffles, doors close. Station 2 doors open and everybody except us try to leave. We were going to the next station because the official CWG map says so. On two occasions I end up on the platform before fighting my way back to the metro. Between unplanned exiting manoeuvres a very kind Indian lad tries to tell me that this is my stop but I ignore him and force myself back to the mother ship. Only as the metro left the station did it become apparent that the young lad was correct and the CWG were wrong ... again. Thankfully the remainder of the journey was quite peaceful and we arrived in one piece. Minus two women! At the station a very kind volunteer asked if we were OK, quick as a flash one of our group replied, "No I've lost my wife ..." the poor helper could do nothing other than laugh. Thankfully they were standing in the ticket hall wondering why we'd been so long.

The athletics whilst not as exciting as the metro provided some entertainment. The steeplechase was a Kenyan precession, they also won the women's 800m. In the 10000m, where they are also famously strong, they had to settle for 2nd, 3rd and 4th. Victory going to the Ugandan Moses Kipsiro.

On the field the Aussie Steve Hooker won the pole vault with only 2 jumps. Both were 2 feet clear of the bar and showed all the technique of a fridge (see photos). If his technique was as good as Sergei Bubka he might just get close to the great man's heights. Steven Lewis and Max Eaves of England jumped well for the other medals. 

For our group the highlight was Scotland's Alistair Hay getting through to the 1500m final. He scrapped through in 12th but having been in A&E the night before he was content. He only revealed the hospital visit to his mother and girlfriend after the race. I don't guess he's expecting much against the African but the experience of a final will be good.
             

Day 6 - What no spectators.

I guess none of you would have been up early enough to see the women's cycle road race, or for that matter even the men's. It's a pity because you'd have seen about 99% more than most people in Delhi. In a show of utter stupidity and arrogance by the powers that be (I'll leave you to decide who that might be) a "ring of steel" was thrown around Delhi town center that was impregnable to all but the local stray dogs and a few very stubborn Brits.

Having argued with the Indian police and army for over an hour we eventually got though three of the four rings to a point were we could actually see. With no video screens it was hard to know who had won the women's race. With the thought of 3 more hours in 40+ degrees of heat we chose to retire to a local hotel for pizza and kingfisher.
We later found that Lizzie Armitstead of England won silver in the women's race and David Millar of Scotland finished third in the men's. Just a pity we couldn't cheer them over the line. Really doubt it's worth coming to the marathon ...

After a cold shower it was off to the athletics. Now after a week the organising committee seem to have got things a little more organised. Air freshener for the stinking river; most of the planting finished in the gardens; crowd barriers (why!); ditching the stupid food and drink tickets etc. Then a ban on bags! Why, nobody knows, but no amount of arguing could move them. We were lucky and had our coach to dump them on, many weren't so fortunate. 

The evening had some great field events including the men's discus in which India won a Silver and the high jump in which the 6' 4" Nicole Forrester won despite her obvious lack of technique. Vicki Hubbard came 4th, the worst possible place but having missed most of the season and only been cleared to jump 2 weeks ago she was philosophical. I had the pleasure of watch the event with her parents and getting quite an insight into the rigours of her training. Never again will I think of it as a job for tall, skinny girls who weren't spotted on the street by Elite!  

The men's 800m was the expected Kenyan victory with all medallists having Kiplagat in there name. Boaz won with brothers Richard and Abraham getting the minor medals. They were followed home by a further set of brothers Gareth and Chris Warburton of Wales.

England also had cause to rejoice as Leon Baptiste triumphed in the 200m beating the 7th or 8th ranked Jamaican on the dip. I'm sure Leon couldn't care less who he beat, you've gotta be there to win it Usain!

Day 5 - Gold for breakfast.

It's not often that before you've even rubbed the sleep from your eyes an English girl has walked 20km in the Delhi heat and smog to win Gold. Congratulation Jo Jackson!
Jo a converted runner has been training in a heat chamber in Leeds and at holding camp in Doha, well worth the pain for a gold medal. Her Parents are on out trip and dragged our, over worked, guide Vinny out of bed at 4am to get them to the start. Apparently they blagged there way into the VIP seating as they're tour England tee-shirts and lanyards fooled the ever vigilant security. Furthermore Jo's sister, also an athlete managed to "wander" onto the course and spend 10 minutes warming-up with her.
All that matters is that she's got gold and her parents are ecstatic if a little tired. I'm not expecting to see them at dinner. So far the tour has a gold and a silver.

After the early excitement I had a leisurely morning. First breakfast (more beer enquiries) and then yesterdays blog. Somehow that took up 2 hours. 
After a trip to the local shop (were not talking Sainsbury Local) it was off to the last day of the swimming. I was expecting to see Rebecca Addlington lift gold but due to either a schedule change or my dyslexia she was having a rest. 

On arrival a bit of a school boy error left us sat with a bunch of Aussie's. They were loud to the point of annoyance. Later I found out why!

Highlights in the pool were Hannah Miley of Scotland winning the 400m individual medley. Not only did she beat an Aussie but England's Keri-Ann Payne came third. I cheered home home as I'm watching the swimming with 2 Scots Ian and Andrea McFarland. Andrea's actually from Cornwall but Ian's from Glasgow so I'll let him off. That said they live in Lymm ...
It seems they're tour dream was to sing the Flower O' Scotland and they and their Jock pals did a great job. 

The women's 200m butterfly saw another bronze for England with Ellen Gandy coming through in the last length.
Back to the loud Aussie. Their daughter Jo Williams was swimming in the 100m S9 Butterfly. In a great race the phenomenon that is Natalie Du Toit won with England Steph Millward second and Jo third. I was happy as no Aussie anthem and an English medal and they were estatic. 

Swimming finished with the sprints, no surprise in the results except that SA squeeze England out in the Men's. Overall an enjoyable time if a little to Gold and Green.

At this point my day started to fall apart, I'd hoped that a swift finish to the swimming and a fast car across town would allow me to catch most of the evening's athletics. No such luck, a late finish, Indian's taking in the night air and gridlock meant than I'd be luck to catch a medal ceremony let alone a race. I decided to cut my loses and head for the hotel, a Kingfisher and my dinner. So that's were I'm off to now. 

Plans for tomorrow! I'm thinking of passing up a tour of Delhi to watch the cycling road race, got to me worth it!

Update on the merchandising. By quizzing of the officials might have worked as I now have a list of 10 "stores" that have merchandise ... wish me luck.     

Day 4 - bye bye cycling hello athletics

Today was the last day of track cycling. A few good rides from the English girls in particular Sarah Storey a paralympian doing 3.39 in the 3000m pursuit for 6th play. Suffice to say I only realise she was disabled when she came to sit in the stand and I saw that she had her wedding ring on her right hand.
More medals for the Aussies and at last a gold for the Kiwi's as Alison Shanks beat Wendy Houvenaghel of Northern Ireland, thus stopping her from winning their first CWG gold . The Kiwi sprinters also got silver but this was tainted a little by a high speed crash for Ben Webster. No breaks but plenty of bruising.

Really enjoyed the cycling, great venue, nice bunch of Aussies and Kiwis and a few hardy Brits. I think it'll be top of my ticket picks for London 2012, assuming we send a team ...

Bye bye to cycling and hello athletics via the Indian restaurant for the non-veg daily special and a bottle of Kingfisher

Unlike the velodrome the Nehru stadium is a dump. Sorry to the CWG organising committee and all the Indian's who've work day and night in the last few weeks to try and finish the venue. It's not worthy of conference football. The stadium reminds me of an eastern bloc stadium circa 1960. Just a few gripes:-

- drop off for gate 5 (cat A tickets) is on a dust back road that looks like the entrance to a council tip.

- access is via a path through a small wooded area, pretty except the path is still being laid, the grass is still being planted and the lights are Tesco value Christmas lights ...

- the worst bit is access to the stadium. You have to cross a bridge over a Delhi "river", I'll let you guess how far that river is from getting a Blue Flag. I'm guessing that this is in lieu of the bridge that collapsed, even so it's poor.

- security is the same, with rules changing daily, no bags one day, bags OK the next day. Take a picture with the camera one day, take the battery out another ... and on and on.

- once in the usual problems, no designated seats, stupid rules about not drinking in your seat (thank you Indian cricket fans) etc etc.

Once we'd found a seat things are a little better. Some Yank who's the voice of athletics does the commentary so that's not to bad. He seems to pride himself on being able to pronounce every athletes name correctly, even those from Sri Lanka. Pity he can't say "semi" properly ... septics

The evening started brilliantly with an England clean sweep in the men's 110m hurdles. Andy Turner cruised home with Will Sharman clear in second and Lawrence Clarke fighting through for third.

Turner and Clarke did a lap but Sharman didn't. Apparently he'd been criticised by the press in the past for over celebrating a minor medal (idiots!) and so chose to leave Andy to have his glory. This was later confirmed by his mother and sister who are staying in my hotel, travelling on my coach and sat next to me at breakfast ... now observant am I.

Also on our trip are decathlete Kevin Sempers parents. Going into the last event he was in bronze medal position ahead of two other Englishmen and a Welsh decathlete. With 100+ points lead many thought he'd hold on. His parents knew otherwise as he's a notoriously poor 1500m runner. They were right and bronze went to Brockman. For his two days of pain Kevin got an ear bashing from his mother for not trying hard enough in the run. Tough love.

The newly Scottish Beth Twell did well to take on the Kenyan's and get a medal in the 1500m.
The local crowd came alive in the last hour as their triple jumper held on to bronze until the penultimate round. Worse was to come for English shot-putter Daniel West who was pushed out of gold in the last round.
India's night finshed on a high as they snatched a bronze from England in the 10,000m for women. As this race coinsided with the shot there was nearly an international incident as the Indians insisted on standing in the aisle whilst us polite Brits sat in our seats. Eventually a shouting match broke out and I am pleased to confirm a fabulous victory for the English and progress into the next round.
The stupid, no drinks in your seats rule also reached a head as the senior stewards seem to have given up with the Indians and started trying to enforce it only for the visitors. Hence another stand-off which we'll call a draw. I'm now getting wise to the game. The wealthy Indians are stubborn like Germans, French and Yanks are. When told to do something they argue and keep arguing until they win. Nobody is ever ejected, soldiers and police are never called. I think the reason is that India is the land of paperwork and forms, I'll better the paperwork for ejecting a person for drinking in the stands goes to at least 6 pages. No sane person would bother with that, so they just give in. Our tour company has now taken to a pre-emptive strike and start arguing before the stewards say anything. I'll bet you now that I can get a rocket launcher into the closing ceremony. Look out for me I'll be in the top tier.

One last thing Merchandising. I've been here 4 days had have seen absolutely no merchandising, not a thing. Rumour has it that the organising committee know it's not coming until after the Games but are taking the Indian approach of saying tomorrow to all enquiries. I get great pleasure in asking anybody in authority when I can get merchandising.
   
Off to walk the streets of Delhi now and try and find the beer shop. Two beers in 4 days is not good. Hotel doesn't have a license but the dodgy waiters will sort you out a drink but at highly inflated prices. Every morning at breakfast all I get is "will Sir be having some beer with dinner ... nudge nudge wink wink".

Last day of swimming today, it should have been Rebecca Addlington but they seem to have changed the schedule. All I need is to hear the Aussie anthem a few more time. After swimming I've exactly minus 5 minutes to get to the stadium for the evening athletics ... no chance.

Mike

PS. Hot news is that Mark Cavendish, stroppy but gifted Manx cyclist is flying in for the road race. Well worth a watch as it's being run through the town. Expect pot-holes, stray dogs, families of 6 on a scooter and Cavendish fighting with all and sundry.

PPS. Jo Jackson has just won the 20km walk, it's a crazy event but her parents will be happy. They're also travelling with us.    

Day 3 - what no merchandise

Another busy day with Cycling in the morning and a first visit to the hopefully finished Athletics stadium.
The security madness of the opening days is starting to subside, it's now just a little irrational. No flag poles, of any size, unless you're Coke Cola. In that case bring in thousands and hand them out in the venue. For many people that's the only souvenir they're likely to get. For reasons I'll try to explain there is absolutely no merchandising for sale. For an event that's likely to loss money in a country of billions it's just commercial suicide. The rumour doing the rounds is that the organising committee had a "domestic" with the merchandising company and told them to "do one" a few months back. They then found that nobody else wanted the contract so had to go cap in hand two weeks ago to the original company. I think I'll just buy mine at Tesco when I get back to England.

The cycling venue is now quite organise. Security check everything you take in but are being more pragmatic. Food and drink are available but event has started. Not in the venue and still using a payment process that former Soviet bloc would think archaic.

The gold and green continue to dominate on the track (and almost everywhere else). Victories for their world class pair, Anna Meares and Shane Perkins wasn't unexpected but the minor medals provided the entertainment.

In the women's the highly rated Welsh sprinter Becky James gave Meares run for her money and at only 19 looks a great prospect. I was Welsh for an hour.

In the men's my allegiance was to New Zealand. It's not strictly "anybody but Australia" although I am tiring of their anthem. We just happened to be sitting with the Kiwis and had met Sam Websters family. In the semis he was unlucky to come up against Perkins. Defeat set up a Kiwi head to head for bronze. Webster road brilliantly to defeat Eddie Dawkins and send his family into raptures. I also seem to strike a note with the Indians and spent 15 minutes signing autographs (funny how everybody had a pen) and having his picture taken with starry eyed children.
I'll point him out to Chris Hoy when I get home.

I'll have to finish this later the bus is waiting ...

I

Day 2 -You can't do that!

So I'm here in one piece and now for the Games.
Firstly don't believe the stories of Delhi leaving everything until the last minute. In fact almost everything that doesn't appear on TV isn't finished ... some isn't even started. A mixture of bureaucracy, apathy and down right bloody mindedness (if that's a word) means that London 2012 is probably closer to being ready. The people are lovely; the stewards are great; the soldiers and police have guns but don't seem interested in using them, it's just that Delhi have chosen not to listen to anybody who has held the CWG before. In fact anybody who's held a sports event, music festival, conference, every a garden fete could have given valuable guidance. Rather than harping on I'll give you a couple of examples:-

- The swimming venue is in a city centre park, think Hyde Park. The spectator entrance is effectively on a roundabout not dissimilar to Marble Arch ... why.  200 metres of temporary road and a dropping of area would save everybody 20 minutes and a whole lot of "honking".

- On entering a venue you go through airport style security. All manned by the military. Handsome as they look and great as they may be at protecting India's borders they don't make good "door operatives". In brief, everything is banned; food; drinks; bags; coins; hand sanitizer; pens; flag poles ... today one even tried to bar somebody for having an SD card as it might take video. So on day one I had to surrender a packet of Polo's. I've since learned that if you argue enough you can get almost anything in, it's just a case of being stubborn.

- Once in the venue there is plentiful cheap food and drink. 2 x 500ml of coke and 4 x 500ml of water came to 80 rupees, that £1.10 of you're English money ...  for the lot. Now the rub, you can buy it but you can't take it into the venue. Mad ... utterly mad.

As for the sport, well it's been a green and gold day in the velodrome and pool. I have to say I now know the Aussie anthem word for word. It seems that they're the only major nation taking this games seriously. Canada are having a go in the pool but other than that, Scotland seem to be the only other country punching above their weight. The highlights today were Kenya winning a swimming gold and a brilliant men's points race in the velodrome. The later was good for two reasons, a battling English silver and the company of Scottish rider Jimmy McCallum's lovely fiancee and best friend.

Jet-lag catching up now so just a short blog today. Tomorrow it's more cycling, more bureaucracy and a first look at the Athletics stadium.
  

Day 1 - South Coulsdon to South Delhi in a day.

Having not left Europe for nearly 10 year perhaps Delhi wouldn't be the first choice as a sampler of Asia. But there's only one way to find out. Monday 4th Oct after a hearty home cooked meal from my mother I was dropped at South Coulsdon station for the 4250 mile journey to Delhi. Despite the tube strike this seem preferable to putting my father through a 90 mile round trip on the M25. Quick train to London Victoria (why aren't all London stations prefixed London, London Balham, London Blackfriars ... London London Bridge ... so good they named it twice). Next the tube, thankfully almost every employee of TFL that wasn't striking was on hand to give advice. 15 mins delay then off to Acton and 25 mins later arrive at Heathrow. Having been accustomed to Liverpool and Murcia airport LHR is a bit of a colossus. T3 found, it's off to check in. This is done at a trendy kiosk, a nice idea but you still have to queue for bag drop so ... why?
Thankfully the Virgin Atlantic girl took pity on me and sent me to the "secret express queue for people with 1 bag and no attitude ...". All done, straight through security and then an hour of watching stupid tourists buying any old tat with a Union Jack on it.
Boarded on time, decent seat and a business man type next to me. Take-off, free drink, G&T lots more G than T. Dinner (it was nearly midnight) lamb curry, special airline 'amuse bouche' size portion and a Gu choc-pot desert.
Virgin's in flight entertainment had teased me with the latest albums from The XX, Arcade Fire and Robyn. Great, about time I listen to them rather than passing off newspaper reviews as my own. Two track in and the system died ... unlike Jesus there was no second coming. Thankfully the G kicked in and 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep followed. Awoken by the smell of coffee and scrambled eggs I forgot I was on an airline and when they said breakfast I said yes ... school boy error. Landed 14 minutes late having done a tour of Delhi by Airbus A340-300.
Delhi International looks like any other International airport ... except LHW. Opulent, airy, Roca bogs ... W H Smiths. I'd feared a long wait at passport control but no chance. A passport office the size of Liverpool Airport meant a wait of 90 seconds before being called forward. Now the fun started, the Immigration Officer was an aged Indian gentleman with badly dyed RED hair, the sort that looks cute on rebellious teenage girls. On a government official it looked bizarre. I was torn between laughing, crying or taking a photo ... common sense prevailed and I just kept quiet.
Once in arrivals the CWG logo was everywhere, as were a swarm of soldiers. As a group they don't seem to happy, like somebody just cancelled their annual leave and replaced it with babysitting duty. My rough guess is one soldier per CWG visitor. 
Once out of the pristine airport the real India started to appear. While I looked for my contact I got to see the full array of Indian 'official' taxis. They seemed to consist of 1960's jalopy and a selection of micro-minis. I'd love to see a couple of well padded yanks being ushered to a Suzuki Swift or Diahatsu Srixon. For me it was stretch limo ... almost, as my A/C diahatsu no-name sped me to town. On the way I saw the 10,000 place car-park (not finished), new metro (only just finished), coach park (not even started) and assorted government and military buildings. All to the beautiful strains of a thousand car horns. I'm sure the brake, accelerator and indictators are all wired straight to the horn. Oddly I never feared for my life like I do on the M6. 
So 13.5hrs after leaving I arrived in one piece and surprisingly lively.
Next stop a trip to the CWG swimming pool ...