A little bit of photojournalism

When the London won the 2012 Olympic Games there was much talk of legacy. The billions were to be spent with one eye on the city’s future.

Doubtless there was something to all this. But a couple of weeks ago I went to the Olympic Park to have a swim. The pool itself is a triumph. But finding it isn’t as straightforward as it could be.

The station itself is fine. I’ve got nothing against the station …

All pretty straightforward ... This way to the park. Forgive the image quality. I am not really a photojournalist.

All pretty straightforward … This way to the park. Forgive the image quality. I am not really a photojournalist.

The trouble is, neither does the station.

Which way to the Olympic Park?

Which way to the Olympic Park?

No sign, I mean. Nothing at all to see, except a gigantic shopping centre on the left and an electronic billboard dead ahead, for gambling. On the World Cup, naturally.

Can there really be nothing to point the visitor towards the legacy?

Ah, what’s that, in the corner, past the smoking area?

Makes you proud ...

Makes you proud …

Aha …

A glorious legacy ...

A glorious legacy …

Here it is, partially visible from the station exit and at least three foot high.

Needless to say, it is not possible to miss the shopping centre from the tube. Because it is massive.

If the Olympic movement is to persuade other cities that the games aren’t a racket, they might want to have a word with London. Having spent £9 billion, the public should really be able to find the swimming pool without having to ask a security guard at the shopping mall that’s parked between the park and the tube station.

As it is, it looks like nobody really gives a fuck about the legacy.

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