On Sunday, Aidan persuaded me to go and see the Olympic torch relay travelling through our nearest local town of Ashton. Despite the start time of 10.06 for the beginning of the Ashton leg, I happen to go out with the most organised man in Britain, so at 8.55 precisely, we set off on the five mile journey…

A quick wander around the farmer’s market that was on in the centre, and after purchasing some vegetarian Caribbean pasties, we settled in a spot at the side of the Penny Meadow road to await the torch.

The council was giving out free flags:

I liked the procession in Ashton. It wasn’t all fancy, overblown and trumpeted up by the media at all, but what it did have was local people, a fantastic atmosphere and a bit of character. Yes, the town is a bit dingy in places, but the spirit and excitement was second to none. Everyone seemed to be having a great time, waving their flags and cheering on the creepy people on stilts…

 After what seemed like an endless procession of police cars, corporate sponsors and random people in yellow jackets, wefinally saw the flame itself.

I hadn’t really considered until I saw it that it was the first, and probably the last, time I’d ever see the Olympic flame. A very funny feeling, indeed. A few minutes later, we were whizzing our way back to Glossop to continue with the DIY and driving lessons that a Sunday brings.