Olympic

After an absence of many months, I found myself on the DLR today, travelling between home and my old workplace, the lovely Museum of London Docklands.  Going through Pudding Mill Lane and on to Stratford, the train took me past the site of the 2012 Olympics.  There were the customary yellow tractors and forklifts with their flashing yellow lights, crawling in their hundreds over the mountains of loose soil and rubble.  There were the London Concrete towers and tubes – and the portakabins, cranes, scaffolding, skips, piles of building materials we have all become used to.

But what was this, next to the ribcage of the stadium (I think it’s going to be the Velodrome)?  Ahah, something new.  A giant green glass tongue, propped up by metal girders.  I think it’s going to be the famous stadium for the swimming events, the one designed by a famous architect, the one that’s going to cost a lot more money than originally thought.  At the moment, it’s little more than part of a roof, but there is a helpful billboard nearby showing a CGI of the thing when completed.

I couldn’t decide if that tongue is a lascivious invitation to the residents of the surrounding boroughs – or poked-out and defiant.

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