A 1940s Childhood: From Ancient Olympia to Modern Olympiad 5

Olympia

I still remember exactly where I was when I found out that London had won the bid for the 2012 games; I was in the kitchen of my mum's house in Portugal, feeding my toddler lunch in his highchair. When I calculated forwards I realised I would have a nine year old and that he would be able to remember the Olympics and swore we would definitely go. I never had a moment of cynicism or apathy about London 2012: I was always excited for it. So getting to visit Ancient Olympia in the week my nation got the Olympics was a very special experience.

The ancient Olympics are unimaginably old: believed to have started in 776BC, held every four years in honour of Zeus. I love the idea that all wars between the notoriously fractious Greek states were suspended so that the athlete/warriors could attend. They were a religious festival and, as such, women were excluded from watching any of the events except for the Delphic oracle.

Nowadays the place is overwhelmed by tourists but we were lucky to arrive very early and have it pretty much to ourselves. One of the best things about being a lone parent is that my son and I are a unit and there isn't a husband to disapprove of me and my antics. So, of course, I ran the ancient Olympic track: all 197 metres of it. And I might have been 40 at the time but I beat quite a lot of the early twenties Canadian girls on the coach and I am very proud of myself for that. Afterwards we went around the museum which was, as always in Greece, breathtaking. Whilst we were travelling we saw little to no signs of the troubles Greece is suffering at the moment but our visit reminded me of the robbery at this very museum earlier in the year.