Goodbye, Sochi Olympics: A Personal Memory

The 2014 Winter Olympic Games are over—closing ceremony, interviews, laughter and tears. As I watched it all unfold, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia, reminded of my Soviet childhood and the 1980 Summer Olympics. I still remember that moment: the beloved Olympic bear flying into the sky with a tear rolling down its face, accompanied by a touching farewell song. That memory still brings a lump to my throat.

Today, while watching the Sochi closing ceremony, my mind drifted back to the day it all began—July 5, 2007, when the International Olympic Committee announced that Russia had been chosen to host the Games. It’s hard to believe how much time has passed; it feels like it happened just last year. By sheer coincidence, I happened to be in Sochi that very day.

At the time, I was coordinating medical trainings across four Russian regions. One of them was Krasnodar Krai. My colleagues from Krasnodar called and said they wanted to organize a training in Sochi. I was responsible for supervising the workshop, and I was excited—I’d never been to Sochi before. The only thing I really knew about the city came from an old Soviet saying: “Ночи в Сочи тёмные” (“Nights in Sochi are dark”)—mainly because “Sochi” rhymes with “nights” in Russian.

I agreed without hesitation and brought along my husband and our two-year-old son. I had completely forgotten that the workshop coincided with the Olympic announcement. I also didn’t know that our conference hotel would be the very place where the local celebration would take place that night.

After the sessions ended, my husband and son went to bed, and I stepped outside to join the crowd gathered around a stage for a celebratory concert. I remember seeing famous performers like Philipp Kirkorov. Excitement filled the air. Every few minutes, giant screens broadcast live updates from the Olympic Committee. I was swept up in the energy of the crowd as everyone eagerly awaited the announcement.

Then—it happened. The envelope was opened: “Sochi, Russia!” Fireworks exploded. People jumped, screamed, cried: “Россия! Россия!” I ran back to my hotel room to check on my son. He had woken up in confusion. “What’s happening?” he cried. My husband explained: “Russia won the right to host the Olympics!” Unsure whether that was good or bad, our son listened to Dima Bilan singing outside and suddenly started dancing on the bed. We finally fell asleep around 2 a.m.

The next morning, I passed through the hotel lobby and congratulated the receptionists. To my surprise, they didn’t seem happy. One of them said quietly, “We don’t know what will happen to Sochi now.” Another added, “I doubt this hotel will survive. Everything’s going to change.” And they were right. The hotel, a typical multi-story Soviet-style building, would likely be torn down.

At the training, many locals expressed similar concerns. After the workshop ended, my family and I stayed an extra day to explore the town. I had a strange feeling walking through the streets, wondering how Sochi would change. What would be built? What would disappear? Would the transformation be for the better—or worse? No one knew. I had been born in a country that no longer existed, and we were staying in a hotel that probably wouldn’t stand much longer. I bought a fridge magnet with the hotel’s image—just in case.

We flew back to Moscow, thinking 2014 was still so far away. And now—it’s over.

These Olympic Games were a success. Russia’s team won 33 medals—including 13 gold. Hockey brought disappointment, but figure skating brought pride and joy. I wish I could have been there. I wish I could ask Sochi locals how they feel now, looking back on it all.

The Games are over. But they brought us unforgettable moments, and I hope the Olympic spirit continues. I hope I’ll get to watch more of my favorite figure skating.

So long, Sochi. “HOT. COOL. YOURS.”

By Yulia Yulina