Nice shot Mithrandir. You were right about no view of the stadium from inside Victoria Park, unfortunately.
As for the show... it's better on HD TV than it was on a big screen with BT sponsored glitches and manky sound, but this was what I expected the opening ceremony to be like. Lots of nearly good bits done badly, but without the moments of genius which turned the opening into a triumph.
The opening dirge had me reaching for the paracemamol. I know it's sad it's all over, but let's not provoke too many suicides, eh? And don't get me started on the Churchill thing. I'd rather have had an insurance advert.
Lots of other bits were "ok", but Sheeran murdering Floyd and May murdering his guitar left me cold. I could tolerate the Spice Birds, and Idle was a nice idea, even if they dragged the song out a bit. They do get brownie points for letting him use the s word though. The USA will be horrified.
On the way back from Victoria Park (via remarkably well organised and pretty smoothly flowing Tube from Mile End) I overheard quite a lot of people who weren't impressed. However the fireworks did round it off nicely. You can hide a lot of pimples with a bit of makeup.
Overall, a disappointing end to a surprisingly stunning couple of weeks. I have no hopes of any great legacy, but it has been truly remarkable to be part of a shared communal experience like this which the country has unexpectedly got behind in a big way.
So congratulations to all involved, from bus drivers to athletes. I'm not sure we shoudl have bid for the darned games, but having got them we did an excellent job of showing the world our better side. And why music sales are dying.
PS The highlight of the evening for me was near the start of the ceremony when a Perseid momentarily lit up the sky. That was the best burn up I've ever seen. Either that or the kid behind me was playing with sparklers.
PPS Special mention has to go to Gary Barlow for performing despite the fact he'd probably rather be at home hugging his Mrs. But I still can't shake the feeling that the best performances last night were from dead artists. There may be some symbology there somewhere if I were to put my cynical hat back on. But I just watched Darcey Bussell and The Who, both of whom are capable of beating cynicism into submission for a while longer.