The Olympic Torch is carried through Tunbridge Wells this morning. Crowds line the streets. They wave union jacks and long sausage-like balloons. Olympic flags are nowhere in evidence. Sponsorship rules apparently prohibit their use except by sponsors at the Olympic site. A strange intrusion into commercial freedom. But I suppose the games have to be paid for. Away from the streets the parks are empty. A helicopter meanwhile hovers overhead. The horrendous din adds something sinister to what is on the whole a joyful occasion.
Grant and Mick, who are painting the house, cross the road to look up and admire their handiwork. This time last year they were decorating the house two doors away. We asked them them do ours because we liked the pride they took in their work.
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