Buses
05th August 2008
It was my first day in the IBC (International Broadcast Centre) today. Walking in was like a flash back to Athens. It’s a huge square building which houses the world’s broadcast media, so it pretty much does what is says on the tin.
We actually go through security for the IBC at our hotel, which entails having our accreditation scanned and bags x-rayed as you would at airport security. In fact, security appears to be fairly tight in the hotel. Non-guests have the metal detectors run over them as they enter, we have to use our key cards to access the corridors to our rooms and there are security guards at the entrance to each of those corridors.
Some of the guards are embracing their British guests, greeting them, however bleary eyed they are, with a ‘good morning.’ Some deliver it with more gusto than others; catch them in the right mood and they also run across the corridor to open the door for you once the key card has beeped you through.
We travel on the media bus to the IBC, in the special Olympic lane; the road really does have the Olympic rings painted on it. Today we zipped past three lanes of bumper-to-bumper traffic and arrived at the IBC in 30 minutes.
Buses though, appear to be the same the world over. After a day editing swimming guides I left the IBC with Josephine intending to get the 1830 bus. Sadly, despite being surrounded by buses, our trusty steel steed failed to appear at 1830 and 1900. By this time Sue, Liz and Sally had joined our 'waiting for the bus' party and they managed to negotiate for another bus to do a drive by at our hotel, proving that good floor managers can fix anything!
We actually go through security for the IBC at our hotel, which entails having our accreditation scanned and bags x-rayed as you would at airport security. In fact, security appears to be fairly tight in the hotel. Non-guests have the metal detectors run over them as they enter, we have to use our key cards to access the corridors to our rooms and there are security guards at the entrance to each of those corridors.
Some of the guards are embracing their British guests, greeting them, however bleary eyed they are, with a ‘good morning.’ Some deliver it with more gusto than others; catch them in the right mood and they also run across the corridor to open the door for you once the key card has beeped you through.
We travel on the media bus to the IBC, in the special Olympic lane; the road really does have the Olympic rings painted on it. Today we zipped past three lanes of bumper-to-bumper traffic and arrived at the IBC in 30 minutes.
Buses though, appear to be the same the world over. After a day editing swimming guides I left the IBC with Josephine intending to get the 1830 bus. Sadly, despite being surrounded by buses, our trusty steel steed failed to appear at 1830 and 1900. By this time Sue, Liz and Sally had joined our 'waiting for the bus' party and they managed to negotiate for another bus to do a drive by at our hotel, proving that good floor managers can fix anything!