The biggest party in the world shut down a little after 2am Monday morning, as the last revellers in Vancouver staggered out of the downtown core, leaving the wake of their destruction for the hardest-working city clean-up crew ever.
The Olympics are gone.*
17 days of madness, medals, and mountains have come to a close, and the emotional fall-out is like nothing I could’ve prepared for.
The last seven years of our lives here in Vancouver have been dominated by the controversy and catharsis of a city trying to get ready for an epic event that’d bring millions into our town for the celebrations.
Seven years! Planning, fighting, dreaming, waiting. They came, they saw, they used their Visa cards.
All done now. All over but the fallout and numbers.
Looking at headlines since, it’s clear the world got impressed with our desire to have a good time while the Games were in town.
But it sure as hell didn’t start out that way.
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