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Postcards Home Reports from Belo Interactive contributors at the Olympics in Sydney, Australia Riding the bus in Sydney 09/28/2000 By Matt Zaffino / KGW.com, Portland, Oregon SYDNEY - One of the highlights of my day-to-day routine here has been, believe it or not, the bus rides. We have a short commute from the Media Village to where we work at the IBC in Olympic Park. The drivers have been friendly, courteous, helpful and colorful. They usually have a story or joke to tell, and they seem to thoroughly enjoy their temporary jobs. They came to Sydney from all over Australia and from all walks of life to be part of the Olympics. Most of them eventually tell you they've never been prouder to be Australian. One such character gave me a ride to the Sydney Football Stadium last night. The U.S. mens team got trounced by Spain 3-1, but the ride to the stadium was almost as interesting as the game. He told me about his country and his home hundred of miles away from Sydney. He's an accountant. And he loves music. He sang along to Steve Miller, Queen and Anne Murray (yes, it was a LONG bus ride) and told me about his album collection, which includes every Elvis record ever made. He told me about his Olympic passengers, most of whom were media or athletes, and he got quite jealous when I showed him the picture of me with the Aussie women's gold medal beach volleyball duo. He was entertaining and enlightening, in a way, and I really liked him. Even after he dropped me off about a mile and a half away from soccer stadium. "It's just straight away, mate," he told me. "Be faster for you to walk from here than for me to drive through this traffic." So I walked through the driving rain instead, listening to the cheers rise from the stadium as the Spaniards scored two goals before I even got to the will-call window. But the real rain started after the game. It drizzled a bit while we were getting lots of good approaches but no shots on goal, but the Austral atmosphere let loose a deluge on the exiting fans that rivaled anything Oregon weather has to offer. Trust me on this. I'm a weatherman. As I looked for a cab, the lightning cracked so close there was really no pause between it and the thunder. This sky show was as much fun for me as the game. I ducked under a parking garage for cover. I emerged to a taxi zone line that was 100 feet long, with new cabs arriving at the glacial pace of about 1 every 8 minutes. Someone said the cab company was sending a fleet over. Uh-huh. Probably under the leadership of my last bus-driver. I headed for the buses, which took me to the central train station, where the trains were delayed by the electrical storm. As I and hundreds of other drenched mass-transit riders waited at one platform, our train finally arrived at the track behind us. A frenzied announcer told us so on the crackly p.a. system. I made the train, finally got home and peeled off my soaked blue jeans. Another day done at the Olympics, where getting to and from the events can be as much of a story as the games themsleves.
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Track star 
1996
swimming gold medalist Ryan Berube 
