rumblerumblewhoosh

Hearing on an electric grapevine that there was to be some end-of-season bicycle-racing at Meadowbank in the evening I thought it might be interesting for the wingpiglet and I to pop to see it. My parents scored themselves a day at the Olympovelodrome so I mentioned it to them in case they wanted to pop along to be amused at the contrast between the state of the art and a bit of a state. There weren't enough people to create a massive crowd-roar as reportedly filled the London facility whenever anyone won anything but there were enough competitors to rumble lightly. It was bigger inside than I had been expecting but also more dilapidated. Despite the cold Edgar seemed to enjoy it (though the sounds of nearby trains seemed as interesting as the sight of the racing cyclists), particularly liking the tunnel and steep steps by which the insides were reached.