Here in Melbourne we’re now into the medium stages of lock-down and the final stages of pre-event whingeing.
A week from today the Commonwealth Games start here.
We can debate endlessly about how significant, or insignificant, the games are, but here in town they certainly feel big. They feel big because the inconvenience is already mounting up and so is the whingeing about said inconvenience.
While I am reserving judgement as to the likely success or otherwise of the games, and I am going to one event*, for now the whingers most definitely include me.
Hey, I hear you say, Uli can’t be complaining about road closures and draconian parking restrictions and general inconvenience, she doesn’t own a car or drive anywhere!
Well, that’s partly true. The parking restrictions I couldn’t care about less. I don’t have a car to need to park anywhere and even if I did I have off-street, though inconvenient parking at home.
The road closures are another thing all together. Here’s why:
I live approximately 250 metres from the Athletes Village. I also live approximately 450 metres from one of the major event locations, which lies directly along the path from home to work. In the lead-up to the games it’s the former that has been the problem. During the games I suspect that will shift to the latter.
The Athletes Village sits on a street, the only street, that directly connects the area I live in with the city where I work, as well as the area where my Dad and Betty live. Although the games do not start for another week, they closed that street to all traffic on January 3rd. That’s right, two and a half months before the start of the games: closed. What’s even more ‘amusing’ is that although the games only run until the end of March, that road will remain closed until the end of April.
The drive between Dad’s place and mine using that road takes maybe five minutes, including waiting for at least three sets of lights. Now, however, one has to divert by one of two entirely different suburbs and the journey takes at least fifteen minutes, if not longer. That, in my view, constitutes inconvenience. It would constitute acceptable inconvenience during the games themselves and for a couple of weeks before the games, but for a period of four months it’s entirely unnecessary. Essentially, it’s stupid! (imagine pout here)
The event location isn’t on a street, it’s in the middle of the parkland that lies between my place and the city, but it is along the tram line. The tram line passes the stadium directly, which, I suspect, is going to be a complete nightmare once the games actually start. The tram, together with walking along the path by the tram line, is my means of getting to and from work every day. Imagine now, as I am, trying to get home from work while sharing that tram and/or footpath with thousands of spectators heading to and from various events held along that tram line. I don’t think it’s going to be pretty.
Unfortunately I don’t have first dibs on working from home during the games, because on the side of the city that the Boss comes from there are also a whole lot of road closures – most of which happened for the first time to day – resulting in his journey to work taking an hour and a half instead of twenty minutes.
So, we’re all whingeing. That’s just how it is.
Other things making it feel like the games are a huge event include the police on motorbikes patrolling on the footpaths on my way home. There’s nothing like walking along minding your own business and having a cop on his giant BMW in his helmet and dark glasses riding up the footpath at you to make you feel like you’ve done something wrong even when you haven’t. There are also the police helicopters hovering constantly.
And now, the athletes. I’m trudging home last night, walking through the park feeling virtuous as the tram I didn’t get on goes by, when I’m passed by two impressively fit women in uniforms jogging at an unreasonable pace and not even breathing heavily, and then by a guy on a bike in the uniform of a different (though no less colonial) country. Walking home didn’t feel so fit any more.
Then there are the buses, in convoys, travelling around town. All empty, with security check seals over their petrol caps. They’re practising. Mustn’t get lost when there are actual athletes on them.
Finally little blue people, who seem to be multiplying ten fold each day, everywhere. The volunteer army. Lovely, charming, and far too willing to help and direct you when you really don’t need any help or direction.
This does remind me of the build up to the 200 Sydney Olympics. The logistical snafus, the way they haven’t sold all the tickets, the way that everyone is over the whole thing before it begins (and this is most definitely a smaller event that the Olympics, so the degree of enthusiasm wasn’t as high in the first place). The question is whether these games will turn out the same way as the Olympics did. Back then everyone embraced the games once they actually started, and the traffic was the easiest it has been in years because everyone either took the two weeks off to go to the games or to get the hell out of town. And the games were a huge success.
Two things don’t bode well, however. First, in the last 24 hours two major athletes, ones who can compete on the real world stage as opposed to the little Commonwealth one, Ian Thorpe and Paula Radcliffe, have pulled out. Second, we have had a run of stunningly beautiful weather here in the usually fickle Melbourne. That weather is set to continue into next week, but who wants to bet that as soon as next Wednesday comes around the whole thing will just crash in a giant rainy, windy, fickle Melbourne, heap?
We’ll just have to wait and see. And keep complaining in advance. Because that’s at least half the fun, right?
* Which I didn’t organise, buy the tickets for, or even pay for. I’m going the lazy way. Actually, I’m going the posh lazy way: corporate box!
