Whingeing British gear up for Olympics nightmare

THERE are a few billboards about the place, but you certainly wouldn’t get the impression that London is completely in thrall to the Olympics.

The city is stuffed with gawking tourists as it always is and on the Tube and on the streets the amount of Irish accents — mostly in their twenties and middle-class — is striking.

London is one of those mega-cities which trundles on regardless of whatever major sporting event may be about to take place and so remains semi-detached from it.

The main impact on most Londoners would seem to be in relation to their transport arrangements over the next few weeks: certain road lanes will be closed and some Tube stations will have restricted access, and despite many poster-sized warnings of these changes when they come into force they will inevitably prompt a tidal wave of moaning.

The Brits beat themselves up as much as any nation. In Ireland, one of our many self-criticisms is how we have been passive and accepting in the face of austerity; as opposed to the Greeks who seem to regard rioting as a legitimate form of expression.

The British love to whinge, and through the media, Britain is already putting itself on the analysts’ couch to try to discover why.

Not that there aren’t legitimate reasons for complaint. The situation with the security company G4S — where it basically failed to provide thousands of staff — has been truly catastrophic. (And in an eerie echo of our Government’s impotency in the face of bank misbehaviour, there’s not much HM government can do about it. G4S is such a massive international monster it doesn’t seem to care much if it doesn’t get any more Olympic work).

There’s also discomfort with various companies not usually associated with good health sponsoring the games and the use of soldiers (replacing those missing G4S employees) to check that attendees don’t bring extra sandwiches in with them so that they’ll have to buy burgers instead.

However, what seems to concern the British commentariat most of all is not particular gripes, but a general sense that the British (by which they mean the English) would complain anyway: that there is something innate in the English character which doesn’t like all this fuss, all this change. They’ll spend weeks carefully organising the best party for everyone, but when the time comes, they won’t want to go.

In national personality terms, the English are stuck between the dull-but-efficient northern Europeans and the wanton southern Europeans. (We are southern Europeans — Italy without sun).

They like things to be neat and efficient and seem to take comfort from the developed society they have. Yet they also want to be able to party like the Irish do. It’s just that they find it difficult to let themselves go; to not worry about having to clean up the mess the next day. You’d almost feel sorry for them. Almost.