I was staying with my family in Devon last weekend when my son Ludo spotted that the Olympic Torch Relay was due to pass through Dartmouth on Sunday morning. ‘Can we go, Daddy?’ he asked. ‘Please, please, please?’
Dartmouth was only ten minutes from the cottage we were renting, so it seemed churlish to refuse. Caroline and the other children were quite excited by the prospect, too. Even my curiosity was piqued. I envisaged a distinguished Olympian running with the torch, followed by a squad of young hopefuls. A scene from the director’s cut of Chariots of Fire.
We arrived in Dartmouth at about 11 a.m., having read on the Torch Relay website that the parade was due to arrive at 11.25 a.m., and took up our positions on the pavement. A crowd of well-wishers had already started to gather and the mood was one of eager anticipation.
The first inkling that the convoy was heading towards us was when a motorcycle outrider arrived and started distributing flags to the crowd.
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