Thank you for submitting your article "The Edible Bus Route".
Unfortunately we will not be able to use it on our platform as it is insufficiently on brand.
When we commissioned this article we assumed the title referred to bars and restaurants, and that its key content would include all the best eateries along the way. Instead, if we've got this right, you tell us that The Edible Bus Route references a handful of flower beds installed by community activists. Sorry, but this is interesting how?
The 322 bus route links many fantastic foodie destinations, including Clapham, Brixton and Crystal Palace. Many of our readers will have favourite pasta boltholes or tequila speakeasies in these locations. You appear to have ignored all of these in your write-up, instead focusing on locations that do not serve any food whatsoever.
You claim that Landor Road in Clapham is the site of London's first Edible Bus Stop. We checked and apparently it has been there since 2011, so although it was indeed pioneering it is alas old news. How clever of Mak and Catherine to have come up with the idea, and what a transformation, but there are far more Insta-friendly spots than this to see a bunch of crocuses.
Your photographs are poor. We understand you were unable to stand in the optimum location because the benches were occupied by local people swilling alcohol and energy drinks, but it is hard to enthuse over the surrounding raised beds at this scale. Also the whole point of The Edible Bus Route is that the 322 stops here, but you did not wait long enough to get a vehicle in shot.
Our online audience do not ride buses, so need a much better reason to grab an Uber to SW9 and take a look for themselves. The artisan croissants from the Old Post Office across the road look amazing, as one would expect from London’s Oldest Organic Bakery, but you have overlooked their wholesome rye sourdough in favour of a few herb boxes.
The second pertinent location on The Edible Bus Route appears to be almost three miles away, as the 322 travels. This is not the hit rate we expect from a genuine horticultural phenomenon. Sorry, where is this place you call Tulse Hill - have you made the name up? We are not aware of any other sightseeing locations in this distant suburb, and a few piles of soil have not changed our minds.
Again you are trying to pass off a 2012 project as cutting edge, and we fear that our competitor platforms would have featured it at the time (had they been interested). You claim that The Hoopla Garden is a must-see because of its bollards, but we understand that most of these were present previously so merely incorporated amid the planting. Your supposed arty photograph of one of the bollards has cropped off the final two letters and cannot be used.
Why on earth did you visit the site in February? No urban orchard will be abundant with fruit bushes and nut trees in winter, and the garden will not be a "haven for pollinators", as you put it, for a few more months. The edible aspect of your reportage is sorely lacking throughout, and you have focused too strongly on benches and the occasional daffodil.
Which brings us to the so-called Edible Bus Station. Of all the exciting things there are to do in Crystal Palace, why have you drawn this to our attention? The 322 passes the Dreamcatcher Imagination Hub and the Craft & Courage gin dispensary, not to mention Tamnag Thai, but you have chosen instead to write at length about four barely-visible overgrown triangular plots behind some railings. They do not compare.
If you are considering a rewrite, we suggest a post-Brexit angle. What would a truly Edible Bus Route look like? Might communities pull together to make a success of sudden food shortage? Is there scope to plough up roadside verges to grow vegetables and feed the nation? How much sustainable jam could urban blackberries provide?
As things stand, however, your description of three small cultivated spaces along a six mile bus route lacks any kind of engagement. The only Edible Bus Route we want to read about starts with brunch at Minnow, stops off for gentrified cuisine in Brixton's covered market and finishes off with a gelato from Four Hundred Rabbits.
Come back to us when you've learned to prioritise commercial opportunity over well-meaning sustainability.
