As you may know, the queen Elizabeth Olympic park opened to the public today, and predictably I couldn’t resist going up there. Perhaps the first thing to note is that, to get there from the tube station, you have to pass through Stratford shopping city. My first thought, upon seeing this ultimate temple to capitalism, was ‘what fresh hell is this?’ The place is huge: it makes the Trafford centre in Manchester look like a small provincial shopping arcade. If you dislike crowds for any reason, this is not a place for you. Yet my inner Walter Benjamin kicked in, and I began to make my way through the maelstrom.

When I eventually got to the park, having taken a while to find the way out of the arcade, I was struck by the vibrancy and enormity of londons biggest, newest park. It is very big and very impressive. Yet dispite the activity there today, it also had an odd, dead feel to it. It was almost uncanny. Of course, it might just have been because the plants were yet to grow and things were yet to settle, but the place had an unnatural, unhomely feel; perhaps there just wasn’t enough grass.

Having said that, I left impressed: I could see that park becoming a wonderful place to visit. And, making my way back through the shops, passing many swanky, nice resteraunts, I couldn’t help thinking it might be a nice place to take Lyn. Perhaps I just went on the wrong day, or too early. Either way, I can’t help but be impressed at the transformation of what was, not long ago, an urban wasteland into a modern, thriving feature of the metropolis. I couldn’t help thinking too that, now we have these structures, the only logical thing to do with them is use them for the purpose they were built for and bid again for the Olympics. Now we have the stadium, why not? That, though, is another issue; for now, I have Stratford to explore, although going on a Saturday morning probably isn’t such a good idea.