My historic day with the Olympic Torch

Britain was made for days like this – the day Much Wenlock threw a party.

Awash in a sea of red, white and blue, Much Wenlock yesterday resembled the scene of an Olympic 'homecoming' as jubilant street celebrations greeted the arrival of the Torch in the 'birthplace' and inspiration of the modern-day Games.

In blazing sunshine, tens of thousands of flag-waving well-wishers lined the streets as torch-bearers carried the Flame on its journey through Wenlock to the place where it all began – the very field where William Penny Brookes established the Wenlock Olympian Games in 1850.

But in the mid-day sun, an hour or so before its historic arrival, the party was already in full swing and in order to get a glimpse of the iconic golden Torch, people found any vantage place they could.

Ladies up step ladders; families leaning from first floor windows; older folk on fold-out chairs and wearing 'deely boppers'. Even picnic blankets were laid out at the side of the road.

The party spirit continued along Sheinton Street, where front gardens were transformed with marquees and trestle tables offering plated sandwiches, homemade cakes and squash.

And in some cases something a little stronger and more befitting of a knees-up.

"We're having Champagne," said one lady in a deckchair, sipping from a Union Jack paper cup. "Do you want a sip?"

It was certainly a day that proved that goodwill, sharing and community spirit is very much alive. The smell of barbecues filled the air, ale flowed freely and finger sandwiches were passed around on plastic trays in English country gardens.

The party-goers were in the mood for an occasion to remember – from grannies in Union Jack bowler hats to youngsters in facepaint and even the Jack Russell with a balloon attached to his collar and a mongrel which sported a red, white and blue coat.

A man playing an accordion took requests and broke out into a jaunty rendition of Knees Up Mother Brown.

Along the route on the corner of Sheinton Street and New Road, schoolchildren sat in the gutter playing drums supplied by Coca-Cola, while over the road, on a communal grassed area for a group of council bungalows, senior citizens waved their flags back at them in what turned out to be a celebration 'mash-off' between generations.

I knew which side of the road I belonged on, so I gatecrashed the party on the grass. Not least because they had an endless supply of chicken drumsticks and party nibbles which were communally offered up as a matter of course.

Yes, this was a day for bridging generation gaps. Along the roadside a lady supported by a zimmer frame sat next to a lad wearing enormous blow-up novelty hands, while a smart elderly gentleman wearing a suit and tie perched himself next to a baby buggy containing a sleeping tot oblivious to the excitement going on around him.

Best frocks and posh hats – it was Sunday best for a Wednesday afternoon. Then a vicar in bare feet and a panama hat walked down the road to great applause, proving it doesn't matter what you wear to a big day in history, so long as you are there.

Earlier, I spotted the oldest Torchbearer in Shropshire, Ron Miles, preparing for his leg of the relay to William Brookes School. I barely recognised him. He'd just changed into his tracksuit and a family member was carrying his trousers.

He informed me that he'd had to have his tracksuit trousers shorted by four inches because his legs weren't long enough. On a day for sunshine smiles, Ron gave me another to add to my collection.

As the clock to Torch-time ticked ever nearer, the anticipation was reaching meltdown. By now the flag-waving had almost become an Olympic sport and even the Big Issue seller had given up trying to flog magazines and begun waving a length of bunting.

In packed pubs people tucked into fish and chips and polished their pints. I only know this because I popped to the loo in the George and Dragon and nearly knocked a bloke's drink over.

But on days like this, when the mood was buoyant, it mattered not. Outside, up towards the top end of High Street, folk of all ages had found a wall in a shady spot to sit on and rest their weary souls, keeping themselves cool by eating ice creams.

Mr Softee looked to be doing a roaring trade, as did the flag seller who tempted passers-by with Olympic 'wriggles', which look like little furry snakes on sticks and which, when waved around in such close proximity of other people, would be annoying if it weren't a street party and a celebration of goodwill.

It was a day when strangers became friends, when conversations were started out of nothing. And you'd hope that a little bit of this community spirit might continue long after the torch has gone.

In the street, a bobby briefly became an unofficial photographer, as crowds wishing to capture this moment in history passed him their cameras so he could take pictures of them celebrating.

And all this before the Torch had even arrived. This was just people enjoying themselves.

With only a few minutes to go before the arrival of the Torch, the masses were practising their applauses, cheering anything that moved. Including a police dog van and a council bin lorry.

And then, amidst the official motorcade, came the Torch. This was the moment everyone had waited for. And for some folk the moment proved too much. I watched as the lady standing next to me in Sheinton Street took a handkerchief from her handbag and dabbed her eye. "It is really here! And I am a silly thing for crying!" she muttered.

Finally, to ecstatic cheers, the Torch was carried into the grounds of William Brookes School – a modern day Olympic Flame at the very place that its historic rebirth began.

It was appropriate that as part of celebrations to mark the occasion a world-record 100-metre relay race was attempted. And smashed to smithereens.

To be a part of the party was an amazing experience. In years to come, people will ask: where were you when the Flame came through Shropshire?

I, like thousands of others, was in Much Wenlock – a little town in England that had a rather big part to play in the Olympic Games.

See also:

• Olympic Torch sparks Shropshire cash bonanza

• Olympic torch in Shropshire – As it happened

• Olympic torch visits Telford – in pictures

• Olympic Torch comes to Shrewsbury – in pictures

• Shropshire welcomes the Olympic Torch – in videos