Olympic spectating

Last week we went to Bushy Park again, to see the men complete the Olympic cycling time trials. The park is looking beautiful this time of year - waist high golden grasses and glimpses of antlers between the dark green horse chestnut trees. I didn't have much time to appreciate it because we were convinced we were too late and power walked all the way across to Chestnut Avenue (exhausting). Somehow, however, our efforts paid off and we managed to end up right at the front of the barrier.

The atmosphere was great. TV copters circling above, people everywhere enjoying the spectacle and the sunshine, balloons, flags, picnics, Bradley Wiggins supporters with their trademark fake sideburns, and a crackle of anticipation as each cyclist whistled past. London should be happier more often.

I still don't get the whole sports patriotism/Team GB thing - when Wiggins cycled past the hysteria grew so loud my ears were ringing - but I am proud of London for hosting what has been so far a really successful Games. My mum's a cancer nurse and one of her Jamaican patients was just so cheered up and enthused by Usain Bolt's 100m win the other night. If you're ever wondering what the point of the Olympic Games is, I guess that's one answer.