As a writer, (and as a Canadian!) I have to apologize for the exclamation mark abuse in my last blog post, but hey – it was the Olympics and I was feeling the excitement in superlatives.
I had so much fun even though it was a very compressed time. We spent a lot of time in the streets, which were pulsing and throbbing at all hours with red and white, some time in pubs and pavillions and a long stretch in the Molson Canadian Hockey House, where thanks to a very good friend, we were set up in the ultimate VIP luxury. Strangers and friends all melding. All in all, despite having booked too late to actually get official tickets, we thoroughly loved and experienced the Olympics.
Monday, though, the day after the Olympics, wandering through the downtown area, killing time before heading to the airport a recommended four hours early, it was quite a different story.
It was like the day after prom: Everyone was wandering around in a daze, disheveled, wearing last night’s finery, in some form, as they began to tear down the many weathered decorations bemoaning the fact that it had all gone by so fast. Still, despite the Olympic hangovers most of them were nursing, everyone agreed, we had all gotten lucky. Yup, it was the prom all over. Just longer-lasting, and we didn’t have to wear those cruel shoes that pinched and chaffed.