So just when you were expecting Doctors or The News to come on, along came a programme that was exactly the same as the previous ones but with different presenters who had amazing graphic sets that made you think they were in the middle of the action in Tokyo when they were actually in Salford.
Now it's all over. But it's only a couple of weeks to the paralympic games which will be shown on Channel Four TV which explains why the BBC haven't mentioned their existence. That's how diverse the BBC is i.e only when they are involved.
I find myself dissecting the interviews with the sports people. One British competitor stood head and shoulders above the others. I refer to the diver Tom Daley. With many of the others you always got the impression they were telling you what they thought you wanted to hear or answering with carefully scripted responses. Not with Tom. When he spoke you felt he was talking from the heart and letting you into his world and giving an insight into his life.
I felt that when asked a question he always gave an honest answer from his heart and soul and of course he has made knitting fashionable. For those who thought that knitting was for sissies (not me I add) here was a man doing it to a high standard who just happens to spend his life chucking himself into a swimming pool from a huge height while doing tumbles, somersaults and twists. Bravery doesn't even come close to explaining that.
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Isn't it strange how the smallest things can prompt memories? On our way up to North Norfolk yesterday we had to take a detour as Middleton's Lane in Hellesdon was closed. So we drove down Reepham Road. I used to live on Reepham Road but it's a very long one. Probably the best part of two miles from its start to the point were it becomes open country.
Towards the end of the built-up area is a doctors' surgery that I remember as the Man In The Moon public house. There is also a row of shops which included in my youth a newsagents. For some reason the owner used our driveway and garage to distribute the papers for his paperboys. Every Christmas he would bring me a Beano annual (or something similar). This was always something I looked forward to although of course what I was given was something he probably couldn't sell and had left over.
About a mile from the former Man in the Moon pub is the famous Bull pub which has now been retitled the Cherry Tree or something like that to give it a better image. The Bull was an old spit and sawdust pub but more importantly for me it was a stop on the bus route from Norwich and the stop after mine.
So people using the bus would ask for the Bull, thinking more of it as a stop rather than a pub.
Also at the top of Reepham Road was a forest type area that me and my friends would cycle to and have picnics. Oh the memories brought back by just a short detour on the way to the sea.