It's not an animosity towards the inevitable stunning sporting achievement, but more a feeling of weariness of a level of hype that is reaching rabid proportions. As I left London late this afternoon, the insanity was becoming increasingly apparent. Masses of people wandering aimlessly, copy of tube map in hand, in a vague hope that all would be well. Simultaneously, travelling the other way, the way I was going, was those that wanted to actually escape.
I know I'll be back Sunday evening and will have to deal with the ongoing daily agony for a couple of weeks, but I could at least get away briefly.
|Central Line. Empty.|
|District Line. Empty.|
It really was the lull before the storm.
|Hammersmith and City... WTAF?|
And above all that I hope that after the games we won't hear Boris every 2 minutes at the stations.
Good luck London, I'll see you on Sunday evening.