And so it came to pass that out of the side streets and cul-de-sacs of Nailsea, out of the mist, came a hoard of zombie-like creatures all converging, glazed-eyed on a central spot.
For sure many of these had no idea there were two 6.30s in a day.
It was strange. The only other time everyone in Nailsea gets up and does community stuff is when it snows.
Still, the church gave away 150 free teas and coffees as we watched the cavalcade from our own grassy knoll. A procession of police outriders passed, all waving (they got the bug), and then some big-screen adverts for fizzy drinks sponsors and finally, clad in a white tracksuit, came our torch bearer.
After doing that very 21st century thing of twirling for photographs the procession er, processed on into the gloom.
Another community has been Olympic-hyped.
It was good to see my old friend Jim, working on the vision mixing but managing to pop out on to the back of his bus to spot us at just the right time. I believe he is very bored, and it's only week one.