This little fencer went to Sydney,
This little fencer saw epee.
This little fencer saw foil,
this little fencer saw sabre.
And this little fencer said
"$65 for 4 bouts? I don't care if it is the finals!"
That was back when the first round of tickets was offered to the public, by the second round I relented
and ironically got better seats than David's first round tickets. Now in Sydney, I wish I hadn't been so cheap,
I really wish I was at the women's epee right now. Oh Well... live and learn.
It was a day much like any other, up too early, going to work, that sort of thing.
By 4pm I decided I had accomplished all I was likely to, and so with mounting
excitement I returned home early, arriving mere seconds before David rolled
up in the car.
Back when I bought my tickets I was fairly indifferent about the
whole thing, but with the rapid approach of the opening ceremony the excitement grew, and now I was really
looking forward to this trip
We packed, set the VCR to tape the Opening ceremony, switched off everything
else, then departed only about an hour later than scheduled in Davids original plan.
At the airport a giant screen was showing the opening ceremony broadcast, the associated crowd doing a good
job of blocking access to both the check-in and the boarding gates. Coincidentally there were a lot more final
call announcements than usual. We fought our way through and homed in on the e-ticket terminals. I love the
internet. Within moments we had our boarding passes and were trotting smugly to the end of the very short
e-ticket baggage check in line. The remaining time to departure was spent adding to the escalator congestion
problem as we watched part of the opening ceremony... Cardboard sheep??
A fairly typical flight brought us to Sydney, where we were greeted by a small mock-olympic flame burning in
the entry way. After grabbing a snack in lieu of dinner we claimed our baggage and made our way to the
gleaming new airport railway. Not carrying fencing equipment was a strange experience.
For those planning to arrive at Sydney airport and take the train into the city in the
near future, here is the ritual you must observe:
Line up at ticket machines, pull out cash.
Enter destination, swear loudly, pull out more cash.
Return to companions with tickets, who will then shriek in dismay at the price.
Apparently the users are paying for the shiny new rail link, and it hurts.
David and I were a little quieter in our indignation than the ritual calls for, but they
let us through anyway.
So anyway, we made our way to Campsie, where we were house sitting for an absent SCA fencer.
The house was pretty much what I've come to associate with SCAers. A solid construction built at a time when
homes were intended to outlast human civilization and accomodate people10 feet tall.
There were bookshelves containing titles like "arms and armour" and "Dune". Cupboards overflowing with
bits and pieces, that sort of thing. Very much like home truth be told, though I prefer a more open plan
construction. The computer case in the bedroom that was taller than me was unusual though...
We tentatively explored our temporary home as midnight approached, eventually arriving at the kitchen.
The light startled assorted 6-legged creatures, which in turn startled us. More disturbing however was the
terrified exodus caused when we opened the fridge. David and I exchanged glances, but hey, for
free accommodation at the Sydney Olympics you can put up with a lot. We just decided to eat out.
It was now very late indeed, so after careful inspection for other occupants I settled into bed while David took
care of locating tomorrows breakfast.
At 7am the mobile phones beeped their wake-up call. Since they disagreed about when 7am actually was it
didn't matter so much that I slept through the first one. Eventually I dragged my reluctant corporeal form out
of bed and into the morning routine.
A quick inspection revealed the secrets of the archaic toaster, and sent what I assume was a cockroach into a
flying leap for safety.
Our trek to the venue proved quick and easy, public transport having improved substantially since I last
grappled with it. The concept of queues and security checks at a fencing competition was a novelty which
fortunately didn't take long. Soon we were entering the venue just in time for the Men's individual Epee.
The seating was ... cosy. Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, and in David's case with knees crushed against
the seat in front. Not a good way to spend a day. The audience was largely a who's who of Australian
Fencing.
I've never really been a spectator at a sporting event, I've always seen sport as something you do, not
something you watch. So this was something new for me, and I was surprised by the amazing atmosphere
you get at an Olympic fencing event. I can't describe it, if you ever have the chance you'll just have to go and
find out for yourself.
The early round was marked by theatrics as top ranked fencers took time to enjoy themselves and play up to
the crowd. The all Italian match proved particularly entertaining, one suspected that Milanoli and Marrozi had
trained together too often as they ignored the referee and argued with each other about where the hit had
landed.
The audience politely applauded all competitors, particularly after good hits, but saved most of it's
encouragement for whichever fencer seemed to be falling behind, or provided the best show. Unless of course
an Australian was present, at which point all attention went to them.
I find myself wondering if any fencing event has ever experienced the unmelodious chanting of "Aussie! Aussie!
Aussie! Oi! Oi! Oi!" or a whole crowd stamping it's feet hard enough to shake the stands. My neighbor in the
stand, who until then had been content merely to demonstrate his knowledge of fencing terminology to
everyone in the stand now gave his full voice to encouraging the fencers with such cries as "Stick it to him
Gerry!".
When our last hope was finally bundled out of the 16 you could easily make the mistake of thinking he'd won
given the rousing farewell he received. I love fencing in Australia.
When it was all over we wandered out via the souvenir stand, and I regretted that I wouldn't be back for the
finals. After lunch I headed home while David returned to the venue. I was back in time to catch up on the
news, channel flicking in search of fencing. Only one mentioned it, in a list of medals being decided today.
A quick trip to KFC for dinner, which confirmed my suspicions that our house moves further south as the day
goes on. I also picked up some surface spray which was applied liberally to the kitchen floor.
The evening was spent watching the Olympic coverage, the irony of coming to Sydney to watch it on TV not
being lost on me. David came home and told me all about the last bouts, then joined me in contemplation of
the box.
Fencing did eventually get mentioned, on the Roy and HG show which told the world the "ipiy" fencer David
Nathan was the first Aussie Olympian to be eliminated, and now he could spend the next two weeks partying
(it's that sort of show).
This was my slack day. David went off to watch more epee, I stayed home with
all sorts of good intentions of writing my trip report, drawing some fencing
strips, reading my book, maybe meeting David for dinner. In practice I watched the
Olympic coverage on TV.
No, the irony of the situation was, again, not lost on me.
That evening I wandered into the city to meet David for dinner. We ended up
following a bunch of other Victorian fencers to a Spanish restaurant where
neither of us found anything edible, so we just hung around to catch up on
gossip then went in search of less interesting food.
This was the day we went to Homebush to see what all the hype was about at
Olympic Park. The trip wasn't exactly seamless as we discovered the
phenomenon of helpful volunteers making things up if they didn't know the
answers. But we got there eventually, and began the Long Trek South from the
apparently irrelevant North Gate to the South were all the venues actually were.
I had a ticket for the table tennis, why is a long story but essentially it was an excuse
to visit Homebush. By the time I got there my token ticket for the 10am session
was long over, which was a little disappointing but I got over it. Fate had decided
that it was time for me to discover Pin Collecting, and once I got my first handful of
fencing pins all thoughts of unused tickets were banished from my mind.
I endured the long lines at the official merchandising shop while David wandered
in search of photos. We met up afterwards to share a coke and begin the slow
crawl to the train station.
An interesting side note: in the entire site you could purchase only 3 types of
icecream. There were vendors every few paces, but all sold only the same 3.
This seems most peculiar to me, particularly since I didn't want any of the 3
on offer.
We made it back to Darling Harbour just as the Team Epee finals were starting.
By this stage the official merchandise stand had run out of all fencing specific
merchandise, much to the annoyance of many. No new stocks would arrive,
so it seems someone seriously underestimated demand.
The fencing was good, I was a little disappointed when the French lost by one
point since I thought they put in the better performance up until the last bout,
but watching a bunch of happy Italians bouncing around was quite fun. Saw my first
medal ceremony, and the chaos that followed among the Italian supporters who
had massed down in front of the piste.
Up early again, this time for the Mens Individual Foil. Public transport continued
to serve us well, and the security checks were becoming rather less thorough.
Apparently they'd figured out that only very media-shy terrorists were likely to
target bomb threats at fencing.
I found the early rounds rather disappointing, I sort of imagined that at
Olympic level fencers wouldn't make unforced errors, and when they did they'd be
punished severely for it by their opponent. Not so it seems, given the number of attacks
that landed flat or missed entirely, were launched from point blank range, and
sometimes both. I guess their opponents had good reason for not retaliating, or perhaps
it was all happening to fast for them. It *was* fast, I'll give them that, but that
first round reminded me of the time we watched a video of Monash foilists in fast forward.
Things did improve later, but apparently my expectations were just too high.
We wandered home afterwards, where I settled down in front of the TV while
David went out and about with his camera seeking photo opportunities. Sometime
much later he returned with pizza to find me precisely where he had left me. I
*did* get up a few times during those 5 hours or so but my feet were blistered
something awful after the Olympic Park trek yesterday and objected to being any
where near the floor.
So we ate, watched The Dream, and were delighted to see some Team Epee
highlights from the night before. I stayed up 'til the end hoping for more but
alas it was not to be.
T'was sleep-in day, and so we slept. Sometime in the afternoon we emerged
and figured out how to use the washing machine. Our main concern was getting
the strange odour out of the towels, which had been growing steadily worse
despite sticking them out in the sun to air.
The washing machine washed, but balked at the idea of a spin cycle and
apparently decided that soaking garments could be hung out just as easily as
damp ones so its work was done.
That evening my feet were feeling up to a bit of walking, so we trained and
hobbled further west to the outer suburbs and the only Lonestar Restaurant
near a train station. Life contains few pleasures as great as a really good
steak.
Finally, we had reached sabre day. Men's sabre and women's foil, which between
them made for a very interesting day.
I hate to day it, but I didn't think much
of the womens foil. The top few were very good, and made the rest seem very
sub-standard in comparison. For some reason they kept closing distance, and
discovering too late that they were far too close and the only parts they could
hit were all well below the target area. The Italian who was the eventual
winner clearly knew how to infight and was at a distinct advantage because of
it.
I did like the Men's sabre, however I must apologise in advance for my next
observation, I'm sure I'm just weird and it's nothing to do with you guys.
They
were cute, adorable in fact. They reminded me of cuddly teddy bears.
Yes, I know that's an odd thing to say about men swinging sabres at one another,
but that's my skewed perspective. Perhaps I've been drawing too many fencing
comic strips.
After the epee and foil the overwhelming impression I had of most bouts was
of two cuddly teddybears throwing themselves at one another, touching, then,
still with their momentum carrying them forward they turned to the referee with
fists raised in hopeful triumph, bouncing off one anothers shoulders. It was
adorable, and had most of the audience, including myself, in hysterics.
Other more normal observations are that it was astonishingly fast, and some
bouts did actually feature some tactics. There were parries, and they were
beautiful to behold.
After the finals everyone who's anyone in Australian sabre fencing seemed to
be wandering around outside. David and I tagged along with some uni fencers
to a chinese restaurant (where we did actually eat this time). The pack of
vicious fencers then descended upon an unsuspecting mountain of ice-cream
which didn't stand a chance. Feeling thoroughly bloated, we then ambled along
to the train station and headed for home.
This was our last full day in Sydney, so we did what all good tourists do, we
shopped.
It started with a quick trip to the local Woolworths which was cheap since they
didn't have any interesting lego.
We then headed into the city, parting company at Central station as David went
in search of Photographic stores while I indulged my new addiction for fencing
pins.
The pin market apparently hadn't attracted the crowds they'd hoped for, the
large pavilion looking rather barren. I guess the sellers had sensibly followed
the crowds down to Darling Harbor. Nonetheless I parted with most of my cash,
and resisted great temptation when one vendor unveiled a large collection of
fencing pins for my perusal.
I then made my way to the rendezvous point which was Abbys Bookshop, David
arriving shortly after me. We browsed, then went in search of dinner. Of
course a quick detour via the pins was in order when we wound up at Darling Harbor,
and a few final purchases made as they started packing up.
During the day I'd noticed on occasion that peoples friendly lessons were
starting to wear off. I'm not surprised, people tend to be pretty dumb when taken
out of their familiar surroundings, especially when they expect friendly volunteers
to be able to save them the trouble of actually looking at a map or thinking
logically for a moment.
I was however quite shocked at the outright selfish and rude behaviour of people
at our final dinner destination.
The much anticipated athletics race featuring Cathy Freeman was about to start,
so I guess our timing wasn't the best when we went looking for seats with dinner
in hand. People had gathered in front of the large TV, and weren't going to give
up their seats merely because someone wanted to eat there. We were told in no
uncertain terms to stop blocking the view. Sabreur instincts coming to the fore,
bloodshed was avoided when some people who didn't have a good view anyway made
some room for us. I've never encountered anything like it before, but now I know
where some of the Melbourne prejudices against Sydney-siders come from.
Once done, we wandered home, watched The Dream, then went to bed.
So that was this fencers trip to the Olympics. It was great fun, I'm very glad I went, and the prospect of Athens in 2004 looks decidedly tempting. Hey David, we were planning a visit to Europe sometime anyway, weren't we? :-)