Mike Burgess: Beijing blog

The Boys in Beijing are tvnz.co.nz's John Whiting and Michael Burgess, both covering their first Olympics. Click here to read John's blog. 

Sep 11: Hail the Beijing taxi heroes

In many ways, the Beijing taxi drivers were some of the real unsung heroes of the Olympic Games.

These men (and occasional women) worked around the clock to deliver officials, athletes, media and supporters to every possible destination around this gargantuan city.

It is hard to comprehend just how big Beijing is.

In 2001, when it was awarded the 26th Olympic Games there were almost three 3 million cars negotiating the streets and the two ring roads that encircled Beijing.

Seven years on there are well over four million cars, five ring roads and 17 million people.

It is probably the equivalent of another ten or fifteen 'Danemora's' being added to the Auckland isthmus - perish the thought!

To compound the difficultly of their task - Chinese addresses are not always that straightforward - rather than a number and a street they could be 'by the hotel on the corner' or 'down the alleyway and past the tailors'.

And it has been well reported just how much demolition and construction has gone on in Beijing in preparation.

Our drivers suddenly had to contend with over 100,000 foreigners descending on their cabs - almost none of whom could speak any Chinese at all.

They would just have a map, a brochure - or even just a piece of card or paper - with some scrawled out Chinese characters - and have to go from there. There was no help coming from the mute passengers.

I had over 60 taxi journeys in five weeks in Beijing and never had a bad experience.

Sometimes we got lost - but they were always super apologetic and fixed it with a flurry of phone calls or by asking locals on the side of the road.

No-one tried to rip you off - or got upset when you paid with a big bill - and they were always patient with my painful Chinese.

Only once - when I fell asleep - and woke up to a suspiciously high meter - did I feel like I may have been taken for a ride.

And what skilful drivers!

Slithering like soap between cars, buses, other taxis and the many bikes. There were a couple of narrow misses, of near side swipes, but you never really feel in any danger.

And a real calmness with many of them - not the shouting, screaming honking and tooting that you often associate with cabbies. Just a zen-like acceptance of each and every traffic jam and hold up.

There were two particularly memorable episodes with the taxis of Beijing.

On one occasion I had pre-arranged with a friend that I would jump into a taxi, then call her and she would explain to the driver where exactly to go. All was going to plan. Cab hailed, into the taxi, 'Ni Hao', 'Ni Hao', nervous smile and then I dialled the number and thrust the phone towards his ear. He looked confused.

Of course, right at that moment my phone had run out of credit so the call couldn't go through. We had gone 200 metres. There was nothing I could do except apologise profusely and leave.

Another morning, instead of hailing a taxi, I had to hail a person. I had nothing with my hotel's address written down - just the hotel's number in my cell phone. So I found a passerby who could speak a little English - then called the hotel and got them to say the address while my new friend wrote it down in Chinese characters.

It was convoluted - but all worked out in the end - a bit like getting around Beijing in a taxi.


September 9: Black and blue

After more than a month in the capital of China I thought it was high time I experienced the famous Chinese massage.

The art of foot massage was developed in the Sichuan province (known to most as being the home of panda and the epicentre of the devastating earthquake that killed thousands earlier this year) but has really caught on in recent times in Beijing.

And my feet had done more than enough walking to deserve it.

There were more than a few options on the surrounding streets - I opted for 'Phoenix Tree Manicure and Massage.

From the selection board I indicated foot massage (48RMB, 40mins). The girl, in a white and yellow tracksuit that doubled as a uniform seemed to disapprove.

She pointed at the full body massage - 98RMB, 60mins - saying it was "Hen hao" - 'Very good' and by implication a better choice.

It was 11:30pm and I 'asked' - by tapping on my watch - if there would be enough time - but again she motioned at the window which showed daily hours of 11am to 1am. The massage was fine, and we even managed a little conversation.

Ling Yi Si was from Jianxi province, in Beijing for work while husband, baby and parents remained in the south. It was good to stray from my usual limited topics of Olympics, gold medals and Beijing Duck.

After the hour was up Ling 'suggested' that an extra massage with Chinese herbs and something called cupping would be good for me. I decided I may as well.

After a fair bit of scraping with something that resembled a hard plastic comb without teeth, she proceeded to begin the cupping.

It started out normally enough, as the small glass cups were rubbed down my back. Then I heard the spark of a flame and could smell fire.

'What is going on here' - I thought - but of course had no way to ask.

The next fifteen minutes were slightly nervous times - I kept hearing the sound of new sparks and sensed smoke but had no idea what was happening.

I couldn't see anything and all I could feel was hot glass being pressed against my skin.

Ling asked me a few times - "Hao ma? Hao ma?" - 'Is it ok? I just hoped she knew what she was doing.

Once all of the jars were suctioned on to my back (I found out later there was 16) she put a towel over me and left.

Ten minutes later they were popped out and I was free to go.

Well, that wasn't so bad after all - I thought - until I caught sight of my back in the mirror. It was a shocker - huge red marks the size of tea cups up and down my spine.

My first thought - lucky I'm not travelling with a wife or girlfriend - how the hell would you explain these? A weird experiment with a vaccum cleaner? Hickeys or love bites delivered by a particularly amorous Jabba the Hutt?

It looked like I had been burned, whipped and beaten - but felt just like mild sunburn.

Before I paid Ling pulled a notice from behind the desk. "Please, after cupping treatment, no shower for next eight hours".

Fine by me.

Footnote: There were absolutely no after effects, the next day my shoulders were looser than ever and I have since seen several locals with the same tell-tale marks on their shoulders - so it is obviously a common treatment.

August 26: One last adventure

Talk about the best way possible to end a fantastic Olympic experience!

Here I was, standing on the very edge of the track - watching along with 91,000 other people, as the closing ceremony came to a climax. The athletes danced in the middle of the arena and all around were brilliant performers and acrobats and amazing costumes and stunning dances.

It was way better than the night I had planned.

Earlier I was sitting in the TVNZ office at the International Broadcast Centre, doing the last little bit of work and quite enjoying the ONE Sport review of the games - especially seeing our medal moments again.

On a whim I decided to head out, snap a few shots and soak up the atmosphere. I had a pass to get into the Olympic Green - the perimeter of the Bird's Nest - but no further.

But as luck had followed me on this trip and so I decided to push it one more time.

At the first checkpoint two of the guards signalled me away - but for some reason the third shouted at them both and waved me through.

Headed past the huge fleets of buses that had brought the athletes from the village to the stadium.

Coming up to the next checkpoint I saw lots of people being turned away. I decided to play it simple - said "Niao Ciao, Niao Ciao" (Birds Nest) and after some hestitation the solider let me past.

Now I was at the top of the ramp, leading down into the bowels of the stadium. I had to go for it! A text message from John appeared on the phone "Do me proud mate".

Right. Walk tall, look confident and like you belong. I strided up purposefully and pretended to be on the phone - using my elbow to cover my accreditation sticker. I felt like Jason Bourne.

It worked! They glanced across at my pass and welcomed me with a smile. I was in the Stadium! Huge troupes of dancers and performers were lined up, practising their routines before their big moment.

The most interesting group were representing China's 56 ethnic minorities - some striking looking people and wonderfully elaborate costumes.

Later there was quite a commotion as a group of four Olympic 'volunteers' walked pass me. Waaaaaait a minute - they are not volunteers - it was Jackie Chan and his actor friends dressed as volunteersI Commotion ensured as he was spotted - then rushed into a side door.

The only sour point of the night was when the Beckham bus exited the arena and came down into the bowels of the stadium. Clusters of pale faced Londoners, wearing headphones and self important looks, screaming angrily at all the Chinese performers "BACK, BACK, BACK! They gestured at them like they were animals.

One guy was particularly annoying and wore the manic expression of a hardened estsacy user. It was so tempting to put the big shoulder check in as he jostled all these little Chinese but I resisted as it may have blown my cover.

You hope it is not a portent for things to come in London in 2012 but they do tend to specialise in heavy-handed security.

As you saw on your tv screens, the climax was amazing and it was brilliant to be there on the edge of the track as all the performers came past and headed out for their moment of glory.

I wasn't sure whether I should go out into the middle - the party was for the athletes after all- but some of the dancers dragged me and a guy from NBC and next thing we were in the middle of it all!

My first thought - wow this is just amazing - closely followed by what if I get spotted by the New Zealand team, or the TVNZ cameras?

It was an unbelievable atmosphere. One of the dancers thrust a Fuwa soft toy in my hand - it was the red one, John's favourite - and said "This is for you - thank you for coming to Beijing".

It was quite touching and I actually felt a bit emotional. I wanted to hug her but it was a him. A lot of dancing followed - well perhaps better to say jumping around to Chinese pop songs.

Giant Basketball superstar Yao Ming wandered past - strolling along as someone who is 2.26m is able to do.

I saw some of our New Zealand rowers posing for pictures - picking up the volunteers like they were rag dolls and placing them on their shoulders.

Unfortunately I had to be in a few photos with the medal and flower girls - those have been, shall we say, noticed all around the world.

In a nice touch, as the ceremony ended, hundreds of the super dedicated volunteers were brought down on the arena and ran around dancing, screaming and (I think) taking real pride in what they had achieved.

August 25: Chaos in a Beijing carpark

Seinfeld fans will remember the classic episode where Jerry, George, Elaine and Kramer spent what seemed like an eternity in a New York carpark building.

I enjoyed my own share of carpark chaos the other day in Beijing.

The tvnz.co.nz camera (which has been capturing all those indelible Olympic images) needed some urgent fixing so our ONE Sport driver agreed to take me to the Sony repair store.

Well what a journey. It was a 20 minute drive through the crowded streets of this dense city but this we spent even longer navigating through the multi-level carpark.

I thought of those 80s classics from U2 Where the streets have no name and I still havent found what Im looking for

There were uniformed attendants around every corner of this maze. A rapid conversation would follow and we would be directed here, there and everywhere. There was never enough room for two cars at any one time so it required a lot or reversing, waiting and backing up most of all extreme amounts of patience. Your average New Zealand driver would not tolerate this!

At one point everyone stopped as a expensive Audi had been wedged against a wall, after cutting it too fine around a tight corner. Ouch!

We spent a good half an hour looking for a park but after all this is a city of 17 million people and there is no places to park on the street either.

Inside the mall there was row after row of little repair shops filled with technicans fixing all kinds of electronic equipment. The official Sony repair shop didnt have the part and said it would take two to four weeks to ship it in. The friendly girl suggested one of the many repair shops in the booth.

Outside there was an excited auction for the chance to fix our camera. The guy we (well our driver was doing most of the talking) settled on was a genius with a hammer, pliers and some very small screwdrivers he managed to perform the most delicate of operations.

It was fixed in ten minutes camera like brand new, plus a receipt and a business card should I need to come back.

It was just as difficult to navigate our way out of the carpark paying one attendant, getting the card clipped by another and later having it collected by a third. The young men, who worked in these dark conditions surrounded by car fumes were helpful, polite and friendly like almost all of the Chinese we have encountered on this trip


August 23: One night at the Volleyball

Take a volleyball stadium packed to the rafters, add the defending champions and hometown heroes China, throw in the fantastic flair that is Brazil and you have the recipe for one hell of an atmosphere.

There were 18,000 people in the stadium, and about 100 Brazilian supporters plus two Kiwi neutrals.

The stats sheet was, as always, quite an entertaining read. As well as recording the usual birth date, position and number, it also informed us that the tallest player on the Chinese team was 1.96m (6ft5) and the average height of their 17-woman-roster a staggering 1.87m (6ft 2).

But it went further - they analysed the highest reach of each player. One player, Xu Li Yun, had a spike reach of 326cm and a block of 315cm. Now that is intimidating! How do you get past that?
But the yellow-shirted Brazillians found a way.

Talking with New Zealand volleyball coach and volleyball expert Tony Barnett before the Olympics he had emphasised the importance of the setter to a team. He told me that they are the playmakers - and if they have a bad game their team will almost certainly lose.

I have never appreciated this watching on television but at my first live game ever it was immediately obvious.

The setter is absolutely pivotal and the Brazillian Helia Souza was a genius and the difference between the two teams.

She is the smallest player on the team but has the most crucial job - put the ball in the best possible place for the amazons around her to slam down at the waiting defenders.

Often the setter has a split second to decide - what kind of set and where. They often have several options, and can also throw in a decoy or fake and then go the other way to fool the blockers.

It was pure poetry in motion - amidst the towering power serves and smashes.

Volleyball is popular in China - indeed the Chinese team took the gold medal in Athens in 2004 - but the organisers still saw the need for some rather inane scoreboard flashes.

"Spike!" would appear on the huge screen to tell us that it had just happens. At other times you would see "Great", "Amazing" or weirdest of all "Cheer".

And cheer they did! Almost non-stop, until the Chinese ran out of steam in the third set.

Expect a titanic battle on Saturday night between the United States and the South American superstars.


August 22: Crashing out

It took just seven seconds to understand the fast and furious nature of BMX.

In the second semi-final Great Britain's Shanaze Reade, who was the hottest of favourites before the event, started like a bullet and was leading the field coming up into the first hairpin bend.

But she made a slight misjudgement at the final jump before the corner and lost her balance - that was enough to send her crashing to the clay.

The immediate thought was, if that can happen to the two-time reigning champion, it can happen to anyone.

And so it proved.

Across six semi-finals in mens and womens competition there was crashes in every race.

Reade, who is nicknamed "Speedy Ready" and "Shindog" would crash again on the final bend in the final to lose all possible chance of the medal.

New Zealander Marc Williers tumbled off his bike in the first semi-final run, and managed a very painful looking face plant in the third and last semi final.

Australian Tanya Bailey had a similarly nightmarish time, crashing out of the first two semi-finals - not managing to finish a race until the third and last semi final.

Somewhat surprisingly, another Australian rider called Kamakazi managed to get through the three semi-finals without a scrape. The rider formerly known as Jamie Hildebrandt changed his name in 2001 - deliberately misspelling the Japanese word to fit in with his motto - "dare to be different".


August 22: Moments with our medallists  

It was a day sporting dreams are made of and one I will never forget.

Witnessing the medals at the rowing, then being in the National Stadium to see Valerie Vili take New Zealand's 35th gold medal of our proud Olympic history.

And to top it off, front row seats for the fastest 100m race ever run as Usain Bolt scorched to a world record with consummate ease.

I was still buzzing with adrenalin as we caught the bus back to the hotel about 1:30am. Plans were made for a bit of a sleep in and a gym session on Sunday.

But then we got mail.

It was from the New Zealand Olympic Committee informing us of a press conference at 10am the next morning. And, the women's marathon was due to be run past our hotel in the morning, so the roads would be closed.

It was 2:45am and we knew there was no choice - we would have to be on the 7:00am bus.

At the conference it seemed that the rowers were quite fascinated with Valerie Vili - and vice versa.

The Ever-Swindell twins listened intently as she gave her answers - and provoked lots of laughter with her own imitable style. And later, when it was the turn of Mahe Drysdale, Nathan Twaddle, George Bridgewater and the golden twins to face the music Vili looked on with genuine interest.

At the conclusion of the conference Vili decided to satisfy her curiousity. "Do you guys have mixed crews" she asked, laughing.

Drysdale confirmed that no, not normally - but added that that they could get the Shot put queen on the ERG (Indoor Rowing Machine) and test her out. The twins chimed in - "Yeah, you should try it".

It was great to see the obvious team spirit engendered in the 2008 edition of this New Zealand team.

The rowers asked Vili about the post-race incidents of the night before - when some of the smaller security guards tried to stop her greeting her coach in the grandstand as the shot putter did her victory lap (at the fair clip!).

The 23-year-old then had everyone laughing - "She tried to manhandle me which was not a good idea since she was half my size". According to Vili, when the girl tried to grab her and pull her back, it felt like "she was pinching my arm".

It was a great tale, well told.

Later the athletes posed for photos together and there was great merriment as Vili tricked everyone by standing on her tip toes, which made her appear as tall as the two metre-plus giants Bridgewater and Drysdale.

And Twaddle was asked to slouch - so he was the same height as the twins in the front row.

It was a real privilege to be in the same room as these great achievers - and to be with sportspeople that had that ideal blend of self assurance and confidence without the heavy ego or arrogance.

August 21: Aced by a Serbian stunner

We had just some pictures taken with members of the Serbian water polo team - in classic 'cheesecutter hats' and turned around to see Ana Ivanovic standing in front of us.

Not heard of Ana?

Take the world's number one tennis player, add in the fact that she is seen as one of the most beautiful people in the world and maybe - just maybe - you have the perfect woman.

Bloody hell! Would I be George Konstanza and frazzle with fear - or like Kramer and seize the day?

I would like to tell you about our conversation about her strange superstitions - she refuses to walk on the lines of the court and at the French Open eats at the same restaurant every night.

But I won't.

I should tell you about our casual chat about captured Serbian leader Radovan Karadzic and what she thinks might happen in his upcoming trial. Ivanovic was only five years old at the time but the experience probably affected her deeply, like all Serbians.

No, no I shouldn't.

I might tell you about the jokes, as she guessed what sport I was representing New Zealand in. Football? Athletics? Hockey? Before I admitted that the closest I came to the New Zealand team was the regular press conferences I had attended.

But I will not.

If I was feeling generous, I would recall as we laughed about watching her compatriot Novak Djokovic being taught the haka by Dave Kosoof and members of the Black Sticks.

But I won't, because I can't. I turned into a thirty-something version of Adrian Mole, who some might remember was aged 13, had a secret diary and become dreadfully nervous around the fairer sex.

I managed exactly 15 words in my big moment with Miss Ivanovic - maybe a couple more if you count the stammers.

MB:"Excuse me, Ana, could I have a photo?"
AI:"Yes of course."

I might be paranoid, but as I was standing there I could feel the icy stares of giant Serbian water polo and basketball players all around me - were they minders? Brothers? A lingering boyfriend?

After my able lieutenant John Whiting misfired on the first shot, we had the picture.

Ana didn't rush off, but for some reason I did.

MB:"Thank you, good luck for the Olympics."
AI:"Thank you - you too."

On the same night we met NBA star Dirk Nowitski. Dirk is 7ft, but not nearly as intimidating as Ana. Conversation came a lot easier. We told him of our homeland and his eyes lit up immediately.
"New Zealand? Wow I love your country."

He had holidayed there last year, and particularly enjoyed the Coromandel and hot water beach.

Two questions sprang to mind.

One - how did we in the media not know this? How can a seven foot-tall NBA superstar slip through the country unnoticed? It is not as if dark glasses and a hat are going to provide much of a disguise!

And the second - how big was the pool to accommodate the gigantic German? If you have enjoyed the delights of Hot Water beach you know that space is always at a premium.

We wished him well for the tournament and the smiling Dirk was gone, while the sparkling Ana would never be forgotten.

Earlier in the week John and I made a visit to the Great Wall - check out our adventures here and my world record frisbee attempt.


August 20: Willing on Willis

I had the privilege of watching Nick Willis break our track hoodoo. Read my report here . I also managed to put a quick question in to the bronze medallist. Listen here


August 20: The Eastern quest will continue

The referees at the sychronised swimming were classic. Four uniforms, and none fitted properly. Just as well none of them were being judged on artistic impression.

The male ref in particular was outstanding in his complete disregard for any fashion conventions. A terrible red jacket, ash brown pants and a pale blue shirt. He made ex-cricketer Stephen Fleming's famous Fuijitsu outfit look cool.

The Egyptian duet started things off, performing to music that belonged in a James Bond car chase. But it was exciting and they couldn't stop smiling.

It seemed a bit mean that they had to stand on stage in front of 10,000 people, absolutely exhausted and hold their grins as the scores were read out.

Canada were next and for a minute it seemed a horrible mistake had been made as they swam the entire length of the pool. Had they turned up a week late for the swimming? Soon I realised they were just extremely energetic.

Among the 24-strong field were duets from Belarus, Israel, Greece and Ukraine. And Kazakhstan - if their swimsuits are flurorescent green, I thought to myself, that will be too much!

Japan are the traditional powers of the sport claiming eleven medals since 1984 but the current rock stars of synchronised swimming are the Russian pair of Anastasia Davydova and Anatasia Ermakova.

And they were something else.

As you would expect they are unbelievably graceful; the water does not even appear to ripple as they dive in.

The music was haunting, the artistry quite amazing and they were so in tune, so sychronised - sometimes it was hard to tell whose leg was whose.

The Chinese team of Jiang Tingting and Jiang Wenwen - memorable names there - sparked huge applause. And it continued with chanting throughout the routine more akin to what you would hear at a football match or rugby test.

One of the most enjoyable aspects of watching the sport was the music. I had been expecting a load of classical stuff from Brahms, Beethoven, Mozart, Tchaichosky; all that stirring stuff.

What I had not expected was soundtracks from Beetlejuice, Matrix Reloaded, Schindler's List, Ratatouille and something called "They Call Me Mr Tibbs" by the illustrious composer Britt King.

The skills are admirable and it seems to be popular. The grandstand was full, probably more people than for some of the heats of the swimming the week before. Although, it must be said, most looked like confused locals rather than sychnro afficandos.

I missed seeing the Ukrainian team, but was lucky enough to meet a charming journalist from the ex-Soviet country in the media mixed zone.

Our conversation went like this:

NZ: Excuse me, who are you waiting to talk to?

UKR: Why, why do you ask (accompanied by stern glare)?

NZ: Well, I just wanted to speak to the Czech or Ukrainian team...?

UKR: Yes, I am from that country, but I am not offering translation services!

She had a smile that Medusa would be proud to own and a voice that snarled.

I fumed silently and walked away.

Later I tried to interview the North Korean team of Kim Yong Mi and Wang Ok Gyong.

It would have been a coup - Qantas Media Awards here we come! But they were sadly reluctant to talk with this mysterious sunburnt westerner wearing a Maradona shirt.

There are still weightlifters and table tennis players active from North Korea so the quest will continue this week...

August 19: Rowing reflections

Nathan Twaddle was New Zealand's second bronze medallist on Saturday when he, along with George Bridgewater, finished a very creditable third in the men's pair final.

Nathan has been writing a Olympic diary for tvnz.co.nz and the NZOC over the last few months and always provides an interesting and entertaining insight into the life of a professional sportsman - on and off the water.

It was great to catch up with him briefly in Beijing - and meet some of his family and other loyal supporters who have followed him round the world - to Athens in 2004, the memorable day in Gifu in 2005 and numerous regattas in Europe.

A day or so after he scooped a bronze medal, the affable Twaddle sat down with tvnz.co.nz to look back on the Beijing experience.

In a candid chat he also explained what he never lost faith in the Evers-Swindell twins, what makes the Australian pair of James Tompkins and Drew Ginn (virtually) unbeatable and why he will probably never stop rowing - in one form or another.

AUDIO: Click here to listen to the full interview


August 17: The terrific twin

On the morning after Super Saturday I had the privilege of catching up with gold medal winner - actually make that double gold medallist - Caroline Evers Swindell.

She explained that their main concern before the race was rowing well - and victory was just (a very welcome) bonus.

Evers-Swindell also revealed just how they got back on track after the disasterous result in Poland also admitted it took a long down.

We discussed the unlikely finish to the race, with the New Zealanders uncharacteristically sprinting home, and just what their triumph means.

And we looked at the special relationship they have with their mastercoach Richard Tonks - a man who does all his talk on the water.

AUDIO: Click here to listen to the full interview

August 15: Exploring the Bird's Nest

Along with the Water Cube, the National Stadium or 'Birds Nest' is set to become the enduring symbol of the 2008 Olympic Games.

In Mandarin it is called 'Niao Ciao' which to the English ear sounds like "Now Chow!" which actually works quite well - imagine a mother bird returning to the nest. 'Hey guys - here is your food...'

In the bowels of the stadium there is a vast network of tunnels - wide enough to drive two trucks down and with straits long enough to run 400m.

Guards zip around on segue while neat looking Swiss people were making the final adjustments to the OMEGA mobile scoreboards which will display just who has ran faster, jumped high, or thrown longer.

The media area of the stadium is just immense - covering probably one-sixth of the entire grandstand area. You get an idea of just how important Track and Field is by the size of the mixed zone. As the athletes finish their race, they zig-zag up six corridors of small square boxes that cameramen and reporters will squeeze into and wait with their questions. The first three or four are taken by NBC and BBC - Toni Street, Lavina Good and other ONE Sport reporters will be stationed about halfway up.

Despite not having the necessary NST sticker on my accreditation and being turned away twice by guards - I eventually found myself down on the track. (Don't tell anyone!)
I walked past engineers and electricians completing the final wiring of a myriad of cables and watched an anxious group of Chinese officials testing the sand smoothing machine used for the long jump and triple jump pits. By their gesticulations - things were not going well.

It was quite surreal to be standing on the finish line - this place where legends are made and lives can be defined.

Along the 100m track the camera on rails was already set up, ready to hurtle along and keep up with the fastest men on the planet. The track seems quite springy and bouncy - though I have no grounds for an accurate comparison.

The semi-enclosed roof seems to hold the heat in too - after half an hour of ambling around I was very, very hot. Got to wonder how the 5000 and 10000m runners are going to cope.

The flame was incredibly noisy - there must be enough gas pumping through it to supply a small New Zealand city. An American engineer - who has been working in the Bird's Nest for the past four weeks - admitted that the noise has driven him crazy.

But you can't blame the organisers for taking no chances with the flame.

It was time to go.

In a little touch of irony, only enjoyed by one New Zealander in a city of 17 million - I managed to pose for a photo with one of the guards that had earlier barred my entry to the stadium.

August 13: Aliens invade Beijing bathrooms?

This bizarre sign can be seen on every single disabled toilet in the National Stadium in Beijing, where the track and field events will take over the second week of the 2008 Olympics.

What exactly were they thinking?

It seems hard to believe that the organisers felt that no one would notice.

There are thousands of media and spectators descending on Beijing from all over the world - especially from that bastion of political correctness the United States; did they not think anybody was going to take offence?

And just what are they trying to say?

That these toilets are for aliens in wheelchairs - or that disabled people have to ridiculed by signage?

And did it not occur that the 2008 Paralympics - where one presumes a whole lot of wheelchairs will be rattling around - will be held at the same stadium a week or so after the Olympics?

At that time, are all the toilets for the 'able bodied' going to be repainted with pictures of people in star trek suits?

This Olympics in the city formerly known as Peking has been extremely well organised down to every little detail.

And every possible step has been taken to ensure that there are little or no barriers to this formidable language for the thousands of visitors. But something got badly lost in translation in here.

Luckily there is plenty of red paint in China and that is all it will take to fix the problem.

But I fear for the job prospects of the sign writer - perhaps painting over graffiti on the Great Wall for the next 50 years or so!

August 12: A chat with Anthony Mosse.

Watch the video here

August 12: Getting through the great wall

We couldn't work out quite how we had managed this.

Despite the most intense security all around the National Stadium (Bird's Nest) two tvnz.co.nz reporters had somehow infiltrated it and were standing amongst athletes from all over the world as they assembled for probably the most anticipated opening ceremony in Olympic history!!

Perhaps we should rewind a little...

The National Stadium in Beijing had been completely out of bounds the whole week previous while secret rehearsals of the opening ceremony were conducted. One day out there were some problems getting to and from the nearby International Broadcast Centre as security tightened and from 4pm on the 8th, the Chinese army had locked down the area.

You could not go anywhere near the main stadium without separate passes - ONE Sport commentators Keith Quinn and John McBeth needed three different stickers on their media accreditation to access the stadium.

Thirty minutes before the big 8.08pm start John and I headed off to soak up some of the atmosphere on the streets. Unfortunately, like being stuck in some kind of maze, every time we tried to get closer to the action we ended up further away as police and security seemed to close more and more streets.

On a whim, I tried to enter a security checkpoint that led into the Water Cube. John wondered why I was bothering and stood back ready to laugh. The blue-shirted security stared intently at my pass and somehow mistook the silver media sticker for a blue opening ceremony one. Maybe it was the dark?

Next was the validation machine - but that gave me the green light as well. We were in.

We wandered as close as we could to the Stadium - before the (very well mannered) Army stopped us. In the distance we could see the procession of athletes heading along the road and I thought man it would be cool to be roadside. But we were miles away.

It was a cool atmosphere nonetheless, especially when the fireworks boomed into the night sky! We headed back, until nature called, as happens a lot in Beijing with this spicy food and hot weather.

Portaloos have not been prevalent so far but we spotted lights and a building. You beauty! Inside we caught a glimpse of a whole lot of people upstairs, dressed finely and milling around.

They looked like athletes. They were athletes! We were in the assembly hall before the opening ceremony.

Fortunately we were both in our black ONE Sport garb and must have passed for New Zealand athletes as we wandered around.

We met Chinese baseballers, talked to Serbian water polo players (who made sure I knew that three of the top four nations in the world were from the former Yugoslavia), German hockey players and Senegal field athletes.

John couldn't stop shaking his head "We shouldn't be in here" he kept repeating. There was security everywhere and there was definitely no other media present.

I decided that if pushed - I would say I was a physio for the New Zealand team - maybe that would be believable!

Some Moroccans saw us and recognised the black and white.

"Hey we loved your haka".

"Yeah, thanks"

"Did you guys do it"

"No - no we didn't...but we can..."- as my voice trailed off, a little ashamed.

It was nice to run into the New Zealand sailing team - they were an extremely humble and laidback bunch.

Later I was only metres from Chinese superstar Yao Ming, the face of this Olympics in Beijing. He stood patiently and passively as the crowd all around him went bananas - chanting "Zhong guo, Jiayou, Zhong guo, Jiayou "- (Come on China, come on China, go!) and clambering over each other to get some photos.

It was funny watching the security guards - after some furtive glances a couple turned to get a photo of each other with the 2.26m basketballer. Their boss arrived and huffed and puffed then decided hey - wait a minute - not a bad idea and ordered a photo of himself.

The snapping continued until the big boss arrived and went ballistic!

Then, a moment that Mastercard would be proud to sponsor. After a fair wait the Chinese began to file out, Ming stopped as he saw the stadium and plucked a tiny camera out of his pocket.

After taking some photos he shook his head and grinned in disbelief at the bad quality of his snaps. New photographic sponsor on Monday?

He then asked one of the Chinese Olympic officials to take a few pictures of him with the gleaming Bird Nest's in the background.

Was that really necessary? Handing around the album later - "..And here I am in front of the stadium" in case you were one of the few people on the planet that didn't see me on the television....

Nice to see a human touch in such a global icon and I guess that is what the Olympics is all about

August 10-12: Videos and articles

It's been a busy few days for us. Use the links below to check out videos with TV ONE's Simon Dallow, football commentator John Helm and our adventures at US women's softball press conference, and my article on Phelps' 200m butterfly heat. 

Article - Phelps train keeps rolling.
Video - Simon Dallow's video diary.
Video - An exclusive word with "The voice of football" commentator John Helm.
Video - Mike checks out the glamour girls on the US women's softball team while John almost meets the woman of his dreams


August 10: Inside the Athletes village

It was quite an ordeal to get inside the Athletes village - as you would expect security was very tight.

Our special village tour included TV crews from Asia, Africa, America, Europe and good old Channel 7 from Australia. We were closely chaperoned the whole way by various people working for the International Olympic Committee (IOC), Beijing Olympics Broadcasting (BOB) and Beijing Organising Committee for the Olympic Games (BOCOG).

As we struck issues at the different security points it was interesting how the chain of command worked. Our tour guides would call over their translators, while the guards would consult with there superiors.

But there would always be a number to call, a person to talk to - who could just utter that magic word and we were through.

At one stage we were held up for ten minutes at a particular checkpoint. Then the call was made, words were exchanged and we were waved through.

Imagine having that power - being that person who with just a few words could cut through the chase.

The dining hall was as huge as you would expect. We were told that we could talk to athletes in the queue - if they were okay with it - but could not approach any of them who were eating at the tables and all media had to stay behind the blue line. Of course almost none of us did!

We were expecting to talk to the McDonalds Olympic manager - and I was looking forward to asking him or her just how the iconic American company has 'supported' the Olympics movement and athletes for 40 years as quoted on their brochure. The same brochure also features three petite gymnasts next to a huge Big Mac - surely pushing the limit of just what is believable! But our manager never appeared.

It was nice to see athletes from Rwanda - I wondered just what they had been through to get here. Everything in the dining hall is free for athletes or anyone who has a knife and fork symbol on their accreditation. Where was the black vivid marker when you needed it?

Our tour progressed through the village and our guides got more and more pedantic. One of the Chinese reporters got quite upset and accused the (mainly American guides) of favouring the western media in our party and obstructing her attempts to talk to athletes.

The medical clinic was full of up to the minute equipment but the presentation was super dry. John loved the entertainment centre - finally a television bigger than the gigantic one he has in his bedroom - but the chairs were particularly small given the amount of tall people in residence. A number of athletes were awkwardly slumped across the low plastic stools.
The gym was something else - jam packed with the absolute latest in equipment and super fit athletes of all shapes and sizes. There were huge Cuban weightlifters, tiny Russian gymnasts and everyone else in between.

And unlike Les Mills and your typical Auckland gyms - no one seemed to be reading books or magazines on their treadmills or watching televisions as they worked out - focus is not a problem here!

The accommodation areas were beautifully set out with lots of green spaces. And while the rooms were on the small side they were perfectly functional.

After about three hours of being herded around we were actually quite glad to leave. We had seen a lot of different nationalities during our tour though hadn't been lucky enough to run into any Kiwis.

August 9: A minute with Michael Phelps

When swimming royalty comes to town, the media circus is always close behind.

American Michael Phelps is set to be one of, if not the star of the 2008 BeijingOlympics as he looks to break one of the most outstanding of all Olympic records the seven gold medals that Mark Spitz claimed in 1972 in Munich.

There are six press conference rooms in the huge Media Press centre four that hold about 80 people, another about 200 while number one is a giant auditorium with room for almost 1000 people!

We arrived half an hour early and already the room was filling up with journalists and cameraman from across the globe. I grabbed a position as close to the front as possible and took in the atmosphere.

On one side of me was a large German sweating quite profusely on the other a writer from Sports Illustrated. He noticed my New Zealand garb and fondly recalled his honeymoon there 20 years earlier, still raving about the beauty of the place. He is taking his family back there this year I recommended the Abel Tasman as one place to see this time round.

There are 43 swimmers on the US team but this conference featured just two - Phelps and 41-year-old Dara Torres, at her fifth Olympics and first competed back in 1984.

It was a wise move as the other swimmers would have just been ignored.

The swimming teams press officer was dressed for a visit to the library and seemed very nervous. Somewhat strangely she asked the first two questions and they were far from insightful.

"Dara, how has your training gone the last couple of weeks?"

"Michael, how are you feeling a couple of days out from the event?"

Things improved though as questions started to fly in from everywhere mainly about Spitz's record, impressions of the Watercube, coping with the packed schedule while Torres had to endure more questions about whether she is drug free.

Some were just plain bizarre though from the gushing American media pack.

"Dara, how does it feel to be the face of 40, female and fierce?"

"Michael, I'm from Radio Baltimore, can you tell us how much Baltimore (his hometown) means to you?"

"Michael, can you express just how important your family is to you?

Thankfully the answers were generally more thoughtful than the questions.

The 23-year-old Phelps gave a great impression even taking into account that it may have been partly for the media. He seemed modest, genuine and fairly humble considering his stature in the sporting world.

"I was a little nervous in front of such a big audience but told myself I just had to take the chance and ask a question. Assistants were running all over the room with microphones and finally I somehow got one in my hand.

I asked them if morning finals which have been controversial could affect their ability to swim Olympic and world records. Click here to watch video

Phelps paused for an eternity I thought - oh no am I going to be shot down in front of all these people - but then was straight to the point.

"In the Olympic Games, you have to be ready to swim at any time. You have to be ready no matter what, morning, midday, midnight whatever. Ill be ready to swim whenever I have to."

It was a pretty cool that just for a moment Michael Phelps was talking directly to you.

Who will be next at this amazing Olympics?

August 7: Could I have a little MSG (maximum security guarantee) with that please?

You would have to say that our Chinese hosts have come up with a fantastic system of co-ordinating all the necessary security that has to be present at these Olympic Games.

It is tightly controlled and rigourous but at the same time fairly non-obtrusive.

Whenever we return to our hotel there are always four or five - very polite I might add - security guards there to check your hotel pass before you enter the lobby. Once inside you are confronted with a small army of (rather small) volunteers. They are all eager to practice their English and give advice - not necessarily in that order.

As you get out of the lift on your particular floor there are always one or two staff members who sit at small wooden desks on each floor.

They have learnt some key phrases "Off to work now sir?" Have a good day sir" and they are there to help if you need it - or even if you don't.

It can be a little unnerving though and there is some confusion about their function. Perhaps there is a more Orwellian '1984' side to it all.

In an exercise book they make a note of your room number and time every single time you enter or exit your room. Why? Are they looking for a pattern? For fire safety reasons? Or just like in the days of East Germany keeping records for the sake of keeping records?

I must say - there is a temptation to go up and down the lifts, in and out of the room every two minutes just to see if the note taking continues!

But in terms of getting out of the hotel and making your way to the Olympic venues it all gets pretty clever. Under the watchful eye of security and serious looking policeman you swipe your accreditation, get the green light then proceed through x-rays and basic searches.

On the first day I took through a half-full bottle of water. "Sir, sir, please drink some" was the polite request. I guess the logic was that if it was poisonous I was a goner.

Once out the door you are directed onto the bus. You are now in a 'clean zone' and transported to right outside the door of the International Broadcast centre.

The genius of the system is that over the course of the day you could visit several other venues and never have to go through another x-ray or search because you stay in a 'clean zone'.

Olympic veterans tell me it is a marked improvement on anything that has been done before.

So despite some grumbling from the press pack about our lobby librarians - you have to admire just what the Chinese have managed to achieve.

They have engineered a seemingly super secure environment without the endless delays and painstaking processes that usually occur at major global events.

Hen Hao Beijing! Well done Beijing!


August 5: The Trip

It was an inauspicious start to the trip. The announcement came - "We are waiting on the last ten passengers" - and John and I realised we were numbers seven and eight as we sauntered towards the gate. Perhaps it was all the gear we had - three laptops, a huge camera box and plenty of suitcases.

The seasoned travelers (Keith Quinn, John McBeth and Peter Montgomery) seemed to be travelling very light though ONE Sport's Craig Stanaway impressed with the revelation that he was taking his own play station console - though just one game - WWF Smackdown.

Andrew Saville couldn't help himself as he saw us struggling onto the plane. "You guys left the kitchen sink at home then?". He also enquired if we were live streaming the flight - but the joke was on him as he seemed to be with a particularly annoying co-passenger who was up and down every five minutes

The flight to Singapore was mainly memorable for the outstanding entertainment provided by Singapore Airlines. It all started with the safety announcement. A guy with a classic monobrow was on the video studiously reading the safety instructions - was that a deliberate ploy to get us watching intently and how did anyone not notice when the video was being made? And then clichéd captain looked like he had just walked off the Love Boat - if anyone remembers Captain Stubbing?

There were hundreds of movies in all kinds of European and Asian languages as well as a vast array of music. In fact, they had the top ten UK hits for every year from 1961 to 2000. 1987 had to be the worst music year of all time - check out this for a top ten - Rick Astley, Starship, Whitney Houston, non-vintage Bee Gees, T'Pau, Mel & Kim, Pet Shop Boys, a band called Firm singing "Star Trekkin" and another 'music group' calling themselves M/A/R/R/S who performed 'Pump Up the Volume'. No wonder the stock market crashed.

Crying babies made sleep impossible so I wiled away the time watching movies. An Italian movie called "Sorry if I love you" taught me that 50% of Italian text messages contain the word "love". What would be our equivalent I wonder- "chur", "bro" or "cuz"?

We were delayed flying into Singapore as the airspace was closed to commercial airliners while there was a rehearsal of the National day air show.

Changi Airport was huge, spacious and covered in brown carpet. There was plenty to see and do and we wandered for hours - before stopping for a round of travel Frisbee which seemed to amuse and bemuse locals and gun-toting guards alike.

After six more hours of flying we had reached Beijing. We had heard a lot about the red tape and bureaucratic nightmares but it was plain sailing really. A gaggle of volunteers escorted us virtually from the plane, insisting that we appoint a leader of our 42-strong group (a certain K Quinn was given the honour).

The journey from immigration to Baggage claim was a few kilometers - by train - which gives an idea of just how big this brand new airport is.

At the train station we met a very special Chinese couple - apart from the kooky t-shirts the guy had a stare that could break a rock and John said he was worried for my safety at one point as he towered over me with a constant glare while I made small talk with his English-speaking girlfriend.

Outside our bags were loaded onto a China Post truck - I counted 16 people working away - while we jumped on two air conditioned buses and headed for the Hubei hotel. It was a nice introduction to the city - plenty of trees, Olympic banners and billboards and a bright sunny day.


July 25, 2008: Auckland

In just over a week I will be in the grand city formerly known as Peking.

A city which is home to 17 million people, a lot incredible history and culture and will be for 16 days the residence for the best athletes from all over the globe.

Beijing is also a place where English is not the first language of the vast majority of the local people.

I have been trying to learn some Chinese but it has been a rocky road.

My first class was at one of those evening community programs held at a local school - you know the ones - full of good intentions and nice feelings but nobody actually learns anything.

Well this was different. We learnt plenty.

On the first night - courtesy of a lengthy true/false questionnaire - we were 'taught' that Mount Everest is not really in Nepal,  that Tibet is part of China and that Taiwan is not really a country but is officially a territory. Of course with some of the more vocal members of the class this kind of education went down about as well as a three day-old spring roll.

What controversy! And what an unexpected bonus! Here I was, just wanting to learn how to express "Nice to meet you" and "Where is the best roast duck restaurant this side of Tiananmen Square" but I found myself in the middle of a good old fashioned (steamed) bun fight. Boy-o-boy.

I could sense that the mild-mannered housewives all around me were already looking forward to the exciting tales they could tell at their midweek ladies tennis and afternoon coffee clubs.

Despite this promising start, I quit the class and found an academy where they were happy to just teach you the language - with no added indoctrination.

Trying to master some basic Mandarin has been a hard slog - everybody knows 'Ni hao' (Hello) and Xie xie (Thank you) but when you step beyond that you are faced with a great wall.

Try this one for size - 'Wo ye hen gao xing ren shi nin' - that's "Nice to meet you, too". I might stick with a cheesy smile.

Chinese has four different tones - which gives one word that looks the same four different meanings. Essentially the same word could, for example, mean 'helicopter' 'chicken' 'really' and 'cousin' depending on whether you say it like a question, in a sceptical manner, low and flat or short and sharp.

Here's hoping the context will help - but I do pity the poor locals who will have to try and make sense of what all these tourists and visitors are saying - clutching phrasebooks and spouting sounds.

Apart from the tonal minefield, the tongue curling pronunciation and the multitude of different sounds you have to make - the grammar is actually very logical so there is some hope.

Maybe when Shanghai (or perhaps Tibet) holds the Olympic Games in 2050 I will have mastered Mandarin.

Well look at that, a whole blog and almost nothing about sport.

Not the start of a trend I promise you.

See you next time.

Michael

July 14, 2008 : Auckland

I have to say that preparing for the Olympic Games has been a very enjoyable experience.

I was given responsibility for half of the sports on this humble site while my erstwhile colleague John Whiting took the other portion.

In some sports I perhaps had a fair reservoir of knowledge - athletics, swimming, football, tennis - while in others I could count on a small pool of wisdom - cycling, table tennis, rowing and badminton. But Handball? Modern pentathlon? Fencing? Synchronised swmming? The cupboard was fairly bare.

It is fair to say Wikipedia had more than a few visits while I also took the old school route - delving into the resources of the TVNZ library which includes the iconic TVNZ Sportwatchers' Guide - circa 1982.

There have been phone calls at all hours of the day and night to Holland, Croatia, Spain, USA, Canada and Australia as we tracked down our Kiwi athletes finalising their preparations all across the globe. It has been a privilege to interview such a group of talented and motivated New Zealanders - all with different stories to tell but a common goal - performing at their absolute best come August in Beijing.

It has also been a pleasure to learn so much about some of our lower profile performers in the lesser known sports. Often they are Kiwi amateurs competing against all the odds - and most of the countries in the world - in truly global sports.

My earliest Olympic memories come from Los Angeles in 1984. It was a gold rush as we heard the New Zealand anthem on eight separate occasions and as a kid in primary school I thought this was how it was always going to be.

Normal service has resumed since that freakish Games though - we have won a total of ten golds in the five Olympics since then. And with every Olympiad it seems to get that much harder to win.

As we are well aware, heading into Beijing 2008, our hopes are high. New Zealand seems to have a lot of genuine contenders and it is quite possible this could be our most prolific Games since 1984.

But nobody knows. There are no guarantees.

What is assured though is that there will be heroes, there will be villains, there will be glorious triumph and heartbreaking defeat.

And there will be a lot of Chinese food.

Source: ONE Sport