Werewolves of London

This is my last blog from London :(    I have kept my early departure quiet until now.  I leave today, a few days out from the Closing Ceremony, doing a Usain Bolt to another sport event that has been on my bucket list for quite a while now. In fact the event is so desolate that I doubt anyone there is aware of the Five Ring Circus currently happening playing in London. The only rings they will be thinking of are Piston Rings. Then add a B-factor: Beer, Banjos, Burgers, Babes, and the Star-Spangled Banner. I am so looking forward to it, it looks like a sport photographers nitro paradise.

And the Olympics was paradise for me as well. I wont say it was the most organized or best Olympics of the 6 I have attended, corners were definitely cut and they still spent over budget. It lacked an extra coat of polish in many instances. But I can say that I worked and played like the hyped up red-cordial child let loose in a candy shop on Christmas Day. Everything within my physical body that can ache is currently aching, but my mind and soul are thoroughly refreshed and nourished.

Talking about nourishment, the Spice Girls Olympic Food Challenge was a breeze. Probably should have thought of something harder. Just some of the Scary Spice Girl Highlights…..

‘Scary’ ….. Toffee flavoured Breakfast Yoghurt, Brown Sauce, and the aerosol spray at breakfast (next to coffee dispensing machine) that had printed in caps on the tin ‘REAL FRESH CREAM’. I know about  Easy Cheese, but REAL FRESH CREAM ? In a spray container ? Really ?

The crown in my Spice Girl food jewel was when ordering from the Chinese takeaway menu that I found ‘Crispy Skin Chicken with Chinese Five Spice and Ginger’. Can you believe that? Five Spices and Ginger! I thought I had won one of those Nigerian Email Scam $1,000,000 Lottery wins.

Yo, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want

So tell me what you want, what you really, really want

I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want

So tell me what you want, what you really, really want

I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha)

I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah

Wasn’t that great song writing? The Spice Girls were soooooo way ahead of their times. And sooooooo behind as well.

I was going to end this blog with all the names of those who made my ‘People I want to Punch in the Face’ journal. There were many (mostly stupid ignorant pushy photographers). But too many people accuse me of becoming a Grumpy Ol’ Man (which I am!), so I will finish on a happy Cliff Richard upbeat note.

I will tell you all the things I liked about these Games ….

The volunteers – they were as good if not better than Sydney. They always were up for a chat, always polite, always courteous, always smiling, always well informed. From day 1 through to day 15. Never ever once did I see one raise his voice or be disgruntled in any way shape or form when some arsehole photographer or media journalist gave them grief for probably nothing at all. Thank you all GB Volleys for your love. You were the best.

Using the ‘Chariots Of Fire’ theme for the Victory Ceremony Presentations. It worked so well. Why hasn’t that been done before ?

Catching an old skool red double decker bus to and from the Main Press Centre every day. Sitting upstairs and at the back reminded me of my prehistoric days travelling to and from school and being schoolboy naughty by sharing a cigarette with the boys (please don’t show my Mum this, she still thinks I am a saint) and then coughing our lungs out for the rest of the journey to school.

Walking through the university campus every morning to catch my shuttle. There is something cool about walking through a university that you know looks like what a university should look like. Does that make sense?

Being awake is the new sleep.

The fact it is the Summer here in London. Just how much colder and miserable can it get in Winter ?

The large block of street Graffiti I read each morning as I travelled on the bus “SORRY! But the lifestyle you ordered is out of stock”. Ironically it was placed on the side of a derelict building.

I worked in an environment where the photographers use real cameras. The camera ruled here at the Games, not the iphone or instagram.

My Nikon camera kit. My pics and their quality was awesome. Nikon Australia kitted me out properly and above the call of duty. And it all worked as sexy and dangerously as a Bond 007 mission. Except Nikon didn’t kit me with a tuxedo, an Aston Martin, and a shaken martini. Nikon will surely work on that for next time :D Thank you Nikon Australia.

Lila, Alex  and Japanese sports photo legend Yo Nagaya. All three at some time pulled me out of mini-meltdowns with a good slap around the head, a long chat, Fish&Chips and a couple of pints of Ale (OK, more than a couple) .

All my nephews, nieces, god-daughters  who kept sending me the best messages throughout the Games. I am probably the cool uncle, they were all friending, following and messaging me on FB. I particularly laughed and loved the stoush between two of my four God-daughters (Fi and Talia) who were fighting and jockeying for position of number 1 God-daughter. I miss all the kids.

The fact that every second building is a Pub. You are never too far from a cleansing ale. If you are, it means you are in another country.

Being able to buy a beer at the pub and drink it outside on the footpath or laneway.

The fact that I didn’t get to bump into Sir Cliff Richard, the Spice Girls and Posh Beckham. They would have punched me in the face.

Michelle Obama doing the Mexican Wave at the USA Basketball Game.

Kate and Wills. Kate is hot.

The sport of Fencing. Fencing chicks are also hot.

Heavyweight Judo chicks are not. But they are tuddly.

World Number 1 Female Table tennis player from China, Ding ‘Chicken Wing’ Ning. OK I added the ‘Chicken Wing’ bit, but it’s still the best Olympic athlete name of all time. Ding Ning Ding Ning Ding Ning Ding Ning  … say her name and you can’t help but smile.

The Men’s Triathlon. I was handed the #1 photo-bib allowing me all access on the hallowed Olympic Triathlon turf. I walked on my own, like a proud rooster, almost as if I owned the course. No-one could touch me. The other 150 photographers in the foto-pit stood and watched in envy. It was the most surreal yet proudest moment of my sporting photo life. It was a tiny taste of what must be an amazing buzz for an athlete to compete on such sacred ground.

The sprint finish of the Womens Triathlon.

The honour to watch and photograph the greatest Olympian ever, Michael Phelps. The honour to watch and photograph the fastest man on the planet, Usain Insane Bolt.

Sun Yang’s 1500m Swim. The 4x100m Womens Freestyle Relay and the Australian Gold Medal. LeBron’s dunking skills. The Queen and 007 humour skit at the Opening Ceremony.

London …. I love the fact that a big city can still embrace Fish&Chips or a Pie with Mash/Gravy washed down with a pint of beer as their national dish. It is so me. There is far too much Ganache Ceviche Carpaccio and Remoulade in Sydney. If I had my way in Sydney, the Chiko roll would be a compulsory entree in all restaurants.

THANK YOU everyone for all your amazing comments and messages  during my Olympic fortnight, and in particular about this blog. Pictures come easy to me, writing does not. I try to avoid writing, but so many people back home and abroad insist I keep it going each time. But as it puts smiles on people’s faces then it is worth doing.

So some of you (those a lot younger than I) have asked me “Why Werewolves” ? What does that all mean ? Well, here is a clue from the late great Warren Zevon …

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qRHIeblmIws

Aaoooooo!

Werewolves of London!

Delly xo

Day 9, and after threatening to do so for many days now, the London weather has finally closed in.  Thick dark storm clouds, constant heavy rain, and the boom of thunder outside. A beautiful English Summers day. So that makes my decision much easier. Don’t go to the Women’s marathon and take the morning off. My body thanks me with a huge sigh of relief after the 20 hour work day yesterday.

The least favourite part of the day is when the alarm bell startles you back into the real Olympic world. The body doesn’t want to make a move. You feel like a circus act, you know the one where the elephant sits on the trainer.  Sadly, there is no audience watching and applauding me as I struggle to get up, my body feels crushed and is held down simply by the force of gravity. The mattress is proving to be a huge magnetic force. Despite my superhuman powers, I cannot get vertical.

I am dead certain it happened but I never thought it was possible. I fell asleep whilst standing in a security-check queue entering the Whitewater Stadium 2 days ago. It was only for a couple of seconds but I know I did. I came back to life when the guy behind me tapped me on the shoulder.

The Uni Campus breakfast slop canteen is now starting to look empty every morning. A walk to the supermarket nearby and I see why. The media are eating out at local cafes. Eating real pastries not rubber. Eating freshly cooked eggs, not greasy rubber. Eating real bacon, not salty rubber. Drinking real coffee, not liquid rubber. But I will persist daily to eat in the slop canteen,  I just want to see how ‘Scary Spice’ my cholesterol levels will be at the end of the Olympic Tour.

‘Baby Spice’ ….. does Mashed Banana qualify ? And thanks to Janice, she suggested Baby Back Ribs and Baby Carrots. It feels like cheating, but I think Janice is on to something.

Day 7 and the Photographer’s storm clouds start rolling in. None of us are being friendly and courteous to each other anymore.  Bitching, talking behind each others back, overreactions to a late buses, no ‘good morning’ greetings, no smiling. Long hours and the heavy gear are starting to wear us down. We all move like a sloth of grumpy bears. This is now the critical period for a photographer to push through, the discomfort and constant brain-coma leads to shortcuts and laziness. And that means missed photo opportunities that never happen again, especially at this penultimate level of competition. And it’s another four years before the next Olympics. Only the strong photographers will survive now. The weak ones will walk off into the savannah to be eaten by a pride of hungry Olympic lions.

 I have added a new person into my ‘People I want to Punch in the Face’ journal. French fencing judge Paul Henri Bruel. He walked the Piste as he should during one of the fencing finals. He stood his ground at a crucial point with his back directly in front of me. He had every right to, and I simply cannot do anything about it. But then he broke wind. Noone heard it but he and I.  And he didn’t flinch, he kept judging the Gold Medal match. I needed to then take a quick break and a stroll, he had obviously been tucking into a lot of Soupe a l’oignon the night before. After the air cleared, Paul Henri was now on the list.

I have also added a huge handful of swimming photographers from the Netherlands. Their rude ‘paparazzi’ type behaviour has to be seen to be believed and their rude and obnoxious temperament is beyond comprehension. I just find it hard to believe that so many mothers from the Netherlands at some point dropped their infant children on their heads, who then grew up to become Sport Photographers.

My 20 hour work-day yesterday did finish with a couple of pints of Black at the pub near campus to help celebrate an amazing day of sport and work.

I was up at 4am to get ready for the Womens Triathlon. It is no secret to all of you what the sport of Triathlon means to me. I have been shooting the sport for 25 years now. It has shaped and defined my life, it has shaped and defined my career, I have travelled around the world, and I have lifelong amazing friends that live on all the lands on this planet. Today it was Triathlon’s day to show the world how great a sport it is on the world’s biggest sporting stage.

It didn’t dissappoint. The race and finish was one of the greatest of all time. The run between Erin Lisa and Nicola was absolutely mesmerizing. And after 2 hours of racing the run came down to a photofinish, the camera separating Lisa and Nicola by 15cm ! I have seen a lot in my 25 years of shooting the sport, and this race is up there at the top of Delly highlights reel.

And of course, I was so so so proud and a little teary to see all three girls standing on the Olympic Winners podium, especially Erin whom is dear to me as a friend. Erin’s nickname is ‘Delly’ , the Australian team athletes named her that after she was caught taking sooooo many photos on her first overseas Triathlon tour of duty as a junior. That nickname has stuck till this day and it is common to hear spectators call out ‘Go Delly’ when she races.

My day was then topped off at the Swimming Pool that same day. Australia won Silver and Bronze medals. Woooohoo !! But I also witnessed one of the greatest swims of all time. SunYang from China absolutely obliterated Grant Hackett’s 1500m World Record that has stood for 10 years or so.  Everyone in the stadium including every swimmer and coach of every country stood and cheered for SunYang on his final lap of 15. The swimming community were in unison in knowing that they were seeing something very very special.

So after a few pints at the pub next door, I went to bed at midnight. Very sore and very tired, but with a big smile on my face.

Aaoooooo!

Werewolves of London!

Delly xo

There have been a few photos of me taken here at the Olympics which are now circulating on Facebook ….. so I begin with this DELLY DISCLAIMER …. I do not like camera vests. I do not like Khaki, I do not like Beige, I do not like wearing a vest, I do not think that PhotoVests are fashionable trendy or stylish, I do not wear one to be like the other photographers, I do not voluntarily wear one here at the Olympics. I am being forced against my will to wear it. There, I said it. I feel better getting that off my chest.

It’s the morning of Day 5, and things are starting to really hurt now. Neck, shoulders, elbows, knees, ankles, pretty much everything. Stomach is also feeling empty, it’s easy to see that I haven’t been taking in the calories I should be. And I am averaging 5 hours sleep a night. I have gone hard like a bull out of the gate, but surprisingly feeling OK about it. Mentally doing fine. Physically not so good.

As I mentioned, everything is aching now. I have gone to extreme ‘Code Red’ measures to get a massage. I now keep my watch on when going through Security, making sure the airport metal detection machine goes off. I’m asked to go off to the side and I then get a pat down by the Army boys on Security. They have hard firm grips. Damn it feels good. “Are you sure I don’t have anything around my neck and shoulders, can you just please just check again?” I should however find time for a real massage, some of these Army boy’s hands are getting a little too close to the ol’ sausage roll for my comfort.

Yesterday I got super excited when I saw Sir Cliff Richard having drinks with The Spice Girls at the bar in the Media Centre. Turned out they were six male journalists from Kazakhstan. Disappointing.

I had the opportunity to photograph the USA Dream Team Basketball Team on Day 2. Man they are slick. LeBron Kobe and co are true Basketball rock-stars. They are soooooo good, I truly believe that they would be able to beat The Harlem Globetrotters. You heard that first from me.

You know what’s really giving me the shits @ this Olympics? You really wanna know? You dont ? OK I’ll tell you anyway.

It’s courteous to ask your fellow members of the media “How are you doing today?” I’m good with that, it’s simply good manners to do so. But 99.99% of the answers are as follows “I’m OK but I could do with some sleep” , “I’m OK but I am very very tired”.  URRRGGGHHHHH. Of the 6000+ photographers and journalists, is there anyone out there that come up with a different or original answer!?! Sleep deprived, tired, sore, hungry … WE ALL ARE!!! YOU THINK YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE?!?!  EVERYONE IN THE MEDIA ARE WORKING 16-20 HOUR DAYS!!! THAT’S WHY WE ARE HERE!!! THIS IS THE OLYMPICS!!! HARDEN UP, GO DRINK A GLASS OF CONCRETE!!! Otherwise GO HOME and listen to your Justin Beiber CDs and play with your Ken & Barbie dolls!!!

So I now answer that same question with “I’m good buddy, no complaints, getting some nice pictures, but I am having trouble comprehending if it really was Yoko’s fault for breaking up the Beatles.”

I also came here with a big handful of  ‘Official Delly Carr Olympic Trading Pins’. I wanted to break the mould in the hope that I will start a new era in pin trading. I want to leave a Delly Carr legacy within the Olympic Movement. As we all know, pin trading is a big deal in daily Olympic activity. So people give me their pin, and in return I give them my Limited Edition Exclusive Once In A Lifetime One Time Only IOC Janet Leigh Psycho pin. Sadly I get a bemused and disappointed look from everyone :( 

But they do smile after I give them the set of free steak knives that comes with the pin.

I probably have broken some sort of IOC ruling by my non-official Olympic pin. I also realized last night I don’t even know what The London 2012 Logo represents, let alone what the Mascot is supposed to be. How did they let me into the country? I am so going to be put on IOC detention.

The Olympic Spice Girls Food challenge has been easy so far. I could nail ‘Scary’ each day just by eating here on Campus or buying a vindaloo from the Indian takeaway on the way home. ‘Baby’ Spice will prove to be my undoing, there isn’t enough beer in London for me to go and buy a jar of mushy baby food.

I spend my time on media shuttles and buses listening to Sir Cliff Richard on the ipod and playing Mind Monopoly.  I observe everything we drive past and making a note of all the places and streets that are on the Monopoly Board. I conservatively guess that I have already travelled 80% of the Board.

I just need a ‘Get Out Of Jail Free’ Card in case something goes dreadfully wrong on Day 12 . I plan on putting George Clooney’s mugshot on my Olympic accreditation pass for one day and see if I can get away with it. I’ll do it late in the Olympics when the Volunteers are starting to lose it and getting ultra tired of smiling. Anyway they wouldn’t be able to see the difference.

Aaoooooo!
Werewolves of London!

Delly

My first impression as I get into London was nothing short of spectacular. Off the plane, through Customs, Olympic Accreditation, got my baggage, and seated on the Heathrow Express to Paddington in 19 minutes flat.

And I see that they still have a large supply of ‘Sydney 2000 happy pills’ for all the volunteers.  As I get out of Customs the Volleys saw the Olympic Accreditation around my neck  and boom they were scarily swarming all around me. Beryl politely asks me what my plans are and she beautifully and calmly passes me on to Volunteer Cheryl who would walk 50 metres with me and then passes me onto another Volly, Margaret, who would then walk 50 metres to pass me onto Volunteer Bob. Bob walks 50 paces and passes me on to Charles. Charles for a quick 50 before flickpassed to Edward. Finally Edward puts me on the train. Thankfully I didn’t need to go the bathroom at some point, I’m sure one of these wonderful doped up volunteers would have wiped my Arsenal (Sorry that was a really poor 30hour jetlagged word association, …. Arsenal Football Club, Bum, get it ? Urrggghhhh). I just didnt want to be rude and say Arse for the sack of saying Arse. There I just did it. I said Arse. Arse Arse. Happy now ?

If this world was full of Olympic Volunteers and the Olympic ‘happy pill’ was in free supply, the world would be a better place. No war, no financial stress, and free hippie love. It would be a spiritual calm garden of nirvana, filled with lots of tinkerbell fairies, tutu wearing hippos and white flying unicorns.

I am staying at the University Of London @College Halls. It’s very basic student accommodation. But it has character. That character I haven’t worked out yet, but I will find its soul after I consume the 12pack of beer I bought from Marks and Spencer. What worries me most however is that this block is on the campus of the London School of Hygiene & Tropical Medicine. Now that baffles me in two ways ….. do they cure infectious diseases by prescribing everyone a can of Golden Circle Pineapple ? And secondly, why do I suddenly have a red rash just under my belly button ?

The air in London was like all other Opening Ceremony days I had been to in the past. The city can sense what is about to happen. The air goes still, everyday noise seems to be muffled, and everyone walks in a sensory deprived zombie state (with a sly happy grin). It’s a big day. It’s an important day. It’s a day coming for 7 years. A bit like Christmas Eve for sport junkies.

This was my first Opening Ceremony to photograph of my six Olympic Games. The adrenalin and nerves were at an almost high. The butterflys in my stomach were punching real hard on the inside.

It was an amazing night, and what a great show England put on. I had a great night. I traveled back to my lodging feeling like I had overdosed on Volly Happy Pills. Surprisingly it was one of the hardest things I have had to photograph though. Things happen so quickly, you don’t know what’s coming next, you don’t want to miss anything. Do I have the right lens on? Is my exposure right? Is the entertainment coming from the left or right? Fireworks are when? And where is that Olympic Cauldron as all I can see right now is a bloody big tree??  I was physically smashed at the end of it and finally went to bed at 4am.

The Delly highlights of the Opening ….. Maria Sharapova carrying the Russian Flag (the men will know exactly why that is a highlight).

When the Aussie Team walked out. One cant help getting teary when that happens. I had trouble focusing.

The cheer that 100000 people gave Team GB.

The skit with Bond and the Queen. She may look grumpy and interested, but I reckon the Queen is a hit at each Royal Hens night.

To see one of my good friends Simon Whitfield, carrying the flag out for the Canadian Team. His walk was a lot more composed and straighter than those walks when we would come out of the Oaks Pub at closing time all those years ago. So so proud of you buddy.

And my biggest highlight was when I finally got to see the Beatles. OK, only a ¼ then. But better than nothing right ? 100000 singing Naaaaaaaa Na Na Nana Na Naaaaaaa, Nana Na Naaaaaaa Hey Jude with Paul McCartney (Beatle v1.4) was just the perfect moment for this tragic BeatleFan.

OK, lets get down to business. What will be my Olympic Food Challenge this time? A food group every day for the 17 days of the Games. We all remember the Maple Syrup Challenge at the Vancouver Winter Olympics ? Or the Peking Duck challenge in Beijing ? Well what if I do a Beatles Song Food Challenge ? A Beatles Song Food every day of the Games ? Let’s see … Strawberry Fields, Sgt Pepper, Hippy Hippy Shake, Glass Onion, Octopus’s Garden, Honey Pie  (thankfully this is not a Harry Chopin Challenge, he sang a song ‘3000 Pounds of Bananas’).  Perhaps add in songs from UK Rock icons such as Elton John, Sir Cliff Richard,  The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, The Who, and my alltime favourites The Spice Girls.

Or maybe a ‘Tropical diet’ to ward off any infectious disease that I may have caught off the bedsheets ? Na, not British enough.

Beefeater Guard challenge? Beef each day. Too easy.

OK this is what I will do. Instead of the Beatles how about a Spice Girls Olympic Food Challenge !!! Eat one thing a day that’s either Posh Ginger Baby Sporty or Scary.  This is going to be the best yet. Totally pumped.

Gotta go, I have more pixels to bring to creation. So if anyone is on DellyWatch, my bib number is 1888. And if you cant see my bib number on television, then you know that of the 2765 photographers, look out for the one who looks like George Clooney.

Aaoooooo!

Werewolves of London!

Delly

©Delly Carr / Sportshoot

©Delly Carr / Sportshoot

It was 1992, and I was midway through a 6 month summer journey through Europe. I remember watching the  Barcelona Olympic Games Opening Ceremony on a tiny television in some trashy hotel room in Florence. The walls were paper thin, I was woken by the neighbouring honeymooners yelling at each other in some loud as hell argument about nothing. It was then followed by an Olympic Marathon ‘kiss and make up’ session of GrecoRoman wrestling, mattress Gymnastics, and Syncronized pelvis thrusting. Naturally I couldnt sleep, so I turned on the TV to watch the Olympic Ceremony. As the Archer lit the flame (and an obvious euphemism for what was happening in the hotel room next door), I decided then and there to make the trip to Barcelona the next day.

I travelled for what seemed an eternity, and by that evening had secured a B&B pensione and scalper tickets to TrackField Volleyball and Basketball. But I spent each session at those Olympics watching the photographers and dreaming of a day where I could leave my corporate job and be the photographer I always wanted to be.

20 years on and I can say that I have been blessed . I leave Sydney today to photograph my 6th Olympic Games !! The Olympics …. the pinnacle for this sport photographer (OK I lie, it falls in just behind the shoot I had with Anna Kournikova 14 years ago).

It isnt any easier to prepare or pack for, even after the experience of 5 previous. All my cool new Nikon toys needed an airline ticket just for themselves. And packing for the 17 long physical and emotional days is a task in itself. I know what motion sickness is in store for me as I board the Olympic Rollercoaster.  And so this time I packed a new secret weapon, a new therapy manual to help me cope ….  'People I Want To Punch In The Face’. 

It will start here in the Sydney Airport Qantas Lounge. There will be the snotty Qantas Club Concierge who always walks past and never offers me those cute gourmet icecream cones.

Then there will be the Qantas Airline Hostess who will roll her eyes as I ask for another tepid glass of white wine to help me sleep on the journey.

And when I finally do get to sleep, the old lady sitting next to me will wake me up to go to the bathroom. This she will do 12 more other times in the 24hours of flying. I’ll make sure I get her name off her Boarding Pass during one of her toilet visits.

And so what other 'People I Want To Punch In The Face' will there be to help me fill the book ?

The person who borrowed my 'Cliff Richard Greatest Hits CD’ and never returned it. I left a space for it on my ipod.

The Viagra and Nigerian Lottery Winning Email Spammers who will fill my email Inbox during the 30 hours of travel.

Heathrow Airport Baggage Handlers.

The extremely pleasant UK Customs Officer who will want to have a chat whilst my eyeballs drag along the ground after 30 hours of travel.

My hotel reception staff member who wont be able to find my booking but will do so after 55minutes proudly proclaiming 'Ohhhh here it is, it was right in front of me !!’

The Olympic Security Guards who presume that they have a 007 License to Kill just because of the black 'Security’ shirt they wear, yet who have the intelligence of an Olympic pretzel.

The Head Cook in the Media Village mess hall where we will eat the exact version of their breakfast slop every morning for 18 mornings straight. Yummo.

Victoria Beckham.

Oops, sorry, that’s a poor thing to say, I would never hit a lady. I’ll just get one of the remaining Spice Girls to do it for me.

Then there is the Host TV Broadcast Cameramen who are under the disillusionment impression that their media bib is some sort of Harry Potter Invisibility Cloak and therefore think they have the Superhero right to stand in front of all us Superhero Sport photographers.

The European photographers who dont believe in body hygiene and with whom I will have to sit next to at the Aquatic Centre for 6-8 hours a night for 8 nights.

The same goes for the Russian photographers who reek of Vodka.

Or the European Photographers who think that elbowing punching pushing and stomping on me and my Nikon cameras just to get 'THE picture’ is the coolest thing to do to gain respect from anyone.

And I cant wait for the Estonian photographer who turns up with less than a minute to go before the start of the 100m Final and expects us to make him a place after we have stood there for 6 bladder busting hours to get our photoposition.

Then there will be the person who set the prices on all the food and drink at the venues. I’d like to punch him the face.

Or the guy who designed the PhotoMedia Vest thinking that HotPink or KhakiGreen is such fashionable colour to wear in a nightclub or pub.

The person who thinks that warm beer will quench the thirst.

The person who thinks Bangers & Mash is high in nutritional value.

Or the CEO of McDonalds for placing a Maccas in the Main Press Centre making it so so easy and convenient to eat their food three times a day. Same with the CocaCola CEO. The 'facepunching’ jury is still deliberating about the Heineken CEO.

But the question I ponder right now is whether to put Warren Zevon under 'Z’ in that same journal ?

Alas I cant answer that, it’s time to board, Qantas is calling my name …..

Aaoooooo!
Werewolves of London!

Delly xoxox