Even though it’s here in London, I’m not too interested in the Olympics (it’s the poor man’s World Cup, isn’t it?) and in any case I am supposed to be out of town for most of the event.

I will make an effort to watch the awe-inspiring and rather cool Usain Bolt, but that’s about it for me!

But still, I don’t want to be too down on it and I’d noticed that the Olympic torch was actually passing nearby¬†this morning(in fact somewhere out there my exact namesake has been one of the runners). So I thought I could get into the spirit, and get some exercise myself, by walking down to Coldharbour Lane¬† in Camberwell to take some snaps.

These people rather summed up my feeling. Not quite sure why they were there, but The Games are coming here, right now, and you’ve got to be pretty miserable not to take some pleasure and pride in the evenht and get involved in some little way.

The best bit though was that across the road was a mainly-Jamaican steel band pumping out a great version of London Calling. Hard to capture that in a still photo, but it was so right for this street right on the edge of Brixton, The Clash’s home patch. London seemed at its best, a completely-ridiculous mix of cultures with the odd spiky edge.

As it must have been 30C and a 3 mile round trip, I just had to go for a pint to break the walk home – Fuller’s London Pride of course. Even if I’m resolutely not a Londoner.