A cheesy, peaceful feel

August 29, 2004
The Sun-Herald

The feeling in Athens right now is like the one you get when you sing Auld Lang Syne, a kind of overwhelming nostalgia, writes Peter FitzSimons.

And so the end, or just about. It has, all up, been a wonderful Olympics that has again confounded all of us who from time to time reckon that the whole exercise of the Games must have passed high noon, and a once wonderful idea must shortly collapse under the weight of its own hubris, the stench of the cheating mongrel drug-cheats, the costs of security, and all the rest. And yet, and yet somehow, it all still works. Somehow, just like it happened in Sydney, after all the lead-up hassles, headlines and predictions of disaster, from the moment the torch was lit all the problems faded -- or were at least reduced to footnotes. Cheesy, I know, but the feeling in Athens right now is like the one you get when you sing Auld Lang Syne, a kind of overwhelming nostalgia even though it's not yet formally over.

Taxi # 1

ON the subject of terrorism and its happy lack in this Games to date - touch wood - my taxidriver explained it succinctly. "You don't understand. They don't hate us. They hate you. We knew that they would never attack us during the Olympics, and only have all this security for you. But we knew we wouldn't need it, and we haven't."

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Taxi # 2

ONE of the best yarns of the Games is what happened when Dutch rower Simon Diederik went out for a night on the town, after winning a silver medal. Well, you know what it's like. All that excitement, all that celebrating, and then more celebrating still. Somehow, when he got back to the athletes' village and got out of the taxi, he suddenly realised: "Where's my SILVER MEDAL!?!?!" Meanwhile, taxidriver Yiannis Zavos, 42, had himself gone home and was getting out of the cab when he spotted something shiny on his back seat. "The truth is that I tried it on at home," Zavos 'fessed up to the Macedonian Press Agency. "I became an Olympic medallist for a while. I couldn't resist. The thing is that I gave the chance to my wife to start making comments. I think that she was making fun of me." Well, he thought he looked all right, but still, "It was out of the question for me to keep it. I said to myself that I had to give it back first thing the next morning. This was not my medal. Somebody had worked very hard to win it and had to take it back."

An Acropolis of our own?

WHAT can Sydney learn from Athens? Well, no one does higgledy-piggledy cobblestone streets better than the Athenians, and their Plaka district, within the shadow of the Acropolis, is a delight from first to last. Chock-a-block with restaurants, cafes and the passing parade, it's about as good as it gets - and is only possible because they have blocked cars from most of it. We can't get our own Acropolis, but why don't we block off The Rocks, and make it for pedestrians only, and outdoor cafes and restaurants? Is this crazy, or am I having an inspired Schofield moment?

Snowy's inscription

TFF's item last week about visiting the wonderfully tranquil Phaleron War Cemetery on the edge of Athens - noting the graves of Australian soldiers such as NX 4552 Cpl AV Lenholm who died on 19th April 1941, aged 23, and whose inscription reads As The Ivy Clings To The Oak, So My Memory Clings To You - did indeed draw memories from readers. One was Susan de Windt, who remembers Corporal Lenholm as "Uncle Snowy", so named because of his very blond hair. Born in Newcastle, he enlisted from Bowral and was killed by bullets fired from a German fighter plane in Greece. The inscription was requested by his mother, Elizabeth, who did indeed cling to his memory till her own dying day, though she never got over it. One of four boys and three sisters, Corporal Lenholm is survived by his two sisters Marjorie Filby, 85, and Elsie Wallis, 82. His photo is still on the wall at both sisters' places, and Marjorie Filby still puts a flower on his picture for his birthday and Anzac Day. (It'd make you weep, wouldn't it?) When both women occasionally attend reunions of his 2/3 Battalion they are not only warmly welcomed by his comrades but the Diggers say they would recognise the "Lenholm girls" anywhere, as they look like Snowy - or at least what he might have looked like, had he not been killed.

Many of you will have heard, or read about, Ray Hadley's expletive-riddled rant against a 2GB colleague which leaked out from the radio station's Athens broadcasting facility and has been doing the rounds of the internet ever since. I gather it's kept plenty of people at home amused, as it has done in Athens in both media and diplomatic circles. Some of it has even been translated into Greek! The extraordinary thing, though, was the issue behind it. Hadley devoted nigh on two minutes of high-octane abuse about what a "spastic" this colleague was, how totally incompetent, etc, etc. All because the bloke - regarded as one of the best in the business - hadn't seen fit to include in 2GB's 6am news a 10-second grab of Hadley calling a race! Truly breathtaking. Who does he think he is? Jonesy?