The boything and I watched the Olympic Opening Ceremony at home on the television. We stuffed our faces with Maoams and laughed heartily at Mr. Bean, and discussed the implications of having one huge inside-joke, one British institution reference after the other, representing our dear country. What do the Japanese make of Coronation Street? Neither of us were quite sure. We watched it all the way to the part where the teams come out and everyone applauds for four hours on end, at which point we watched a South Park, came back, saw they had only got to ‘E’, and so I went to bed.
Hours later my beloved followed and woke me up.
‘Who lit the Olympic torch?’, I asked, ‘Was it David Tennant?’ – use a Tardis noise and not show a Tardis? Danny Boyle, you monster.
‘No, David Beckham speedboated it there, Steve Redgrave carried it and then seven young athletes lit it.’
A slight pause.
‘Seven young After Eights?’
Sleep-hearing is always fun. Though I dare say it would have been more impressive to see chocolate mints light the torch.