Admittedly the station's a lot older than that, having originally opened in 1848, but it was only ever meant to be a temporary terminus while the London and South Western Railway drove on into the City. By the turn of the century it was clear that no further extension would be permitted so the company bought up six acres of land, rehoused 1750 people and started work on a much grander station building. It took many years to complete but on Tuesday 21st March 1922 was finally ready for its official opening by Queen Mary. She turned up mid-afternoon (without her husband who was indisposed), received a bouquet of roses from the chairman's daughter, cut a royal blue ribbon and was shown the main concourse and buffet. "What a splendid piece of architecture,” she said, before being driven off in the royal car.
This is the splendid Victory Arch at the York Road entrance to Waterloo station. It hadn't been in the original plans but World War One interrupted construction so it seemed only right to commemorate the conflict, most especially the 585 L&SWR railwaymen who'd lost their lives. That'll be why there are four Rolls of Honour in pride of place at the top of the steps (and only cursory mention of WW2, added later, and nothing about the actual Battle of Waterloo). It's also why the laurel garland around the arch namechecks Belgium, Italy, France, Mesopotamia, Egypt and the Dardanelles - only some of which have ever been genuine destinations served. The entrance beneath is via a long flight of steps, which was very much the thing in 1922 but has been a right pain for anyone requiring level access ever since.
I could relate Waterloo's history in a lot more detail but Wikipedia's pretty good for that, and I could tell you more about the royal visit but David Turner has that covered on his blog, plus there's a scrap of old Pathé newsreel you can watch here. Instead I intend to show you a dozen photos and tell you about the station 100 years later (plus there are 20 photos altogether over on Flickr).
The concourse is enormous, indeed Waterloo is England's largest station (and also its most platformed and usually the busiest). It has plenty of room for rush hour hordes and curves gently round from one end to the other. At the centre is the famous four-facedclock, manufactured by Gents of Leicester, which has become the quintessential meeting point for locating an acquaintance or a romantic rendezvous. Station bosses have even marked out a blue circle on the floor underneath to save anyone from having to crick their neck while checking they're in the right spot. Please note that little paper timetables are no longer available in the racks by the ticket office, and may never be again, but someone has a heck of a lot of December 2019 tube maps to get rid of.
A very long line of ticket gates now separates punters from their trains, broken only by a central gap providing access to Boots the Chemist (whose grey box is the station's ugliest feature). Most of the space above is now taken up by giant animated adverts, ensuring that passengers can't fail to be aware of the latest pension app or Netflix's new costume drama. Dot matrix destination boards are slotted in only at each end, which is where the crowds gather, or else in front of the swish new electronic boards by platform 12. These have colour coded headings - green for trains ready to board and blue for "we'll tell you roughly where to stand but you'll have to wait for confirmation of the actual platform".
There are 19 platforms to choose from here, down from 21 when the rebuilt station opened (because two were sacrificed for Eurostar). You really only get a sense of the huge 100 year-old ridge-and-furrowroof once you've passed through the barriers and set off up the long finger-like platform of your choice. The overall ambience isn't as stunning as St Pancras or Marylebone, but very much nicer than Victoria or Euston. I like to walk to the far end of the platform to duck back outside and catch sight of the London Eye and all the trains feeding in and out, and because I'm much more likely to get a seat in carriage 1 of 12.
As regular commuters know, a subway connects all these platforms and is unlocked during the rush hour when it provides easy access to onward connections. "This is ridiculously quiet," I thought, "these staff down here must get very bored," and then the train from Woking arrived and a flood of passengers pulsed down and funnelled towards the Underground. If the passageway's clear look out for the plaque on the wall between platforms 7 and 8 recalling when these vaults hosted a free buffet for soldiers and servicemen passing through during WW1, catering for eight million meals in total. A lot of Waterloo's arteries are hidden initially out of sight, but are critical for keeping the station moving during its busiest hours.
The retail mezzanine is now ten years old and provides an excellent opportunity to get up close to some of the original stonework and stained glass. Several L&SWR county destinations are highlighted, including one that no longer exists and one that trains from Waterloo no longer reach. The chief boon of this upper storey is providing better access to Waterloo East, plus the chance to squeeze in several more cafes to sell you a baguette you'll probably have finished before your train reaches Clapham Junction. Travellers from 100 years ago would probably only recognise WH Smith down below, and be shocked to see that the National Provincial Bank now sells Bang Bang Cauliflower salad.
After Eurostar shifted north of the river in 2007 its platforms were mothballed and only reopened in 2018 for local services. Passengers for platforms 20-24 get to depart from beneath a swooping roof clearly designed to impress those heading to Paris, not Putney. Access is up a long sloping ramp that wasn't there when everyone needed to pass through customs, or via a lengthy undercroft that's only open at peak times. I thought they'd been intending to hide a whole load more shops down there but none have opened and my word it was empty, with just a few engineers in hi-vis wandering around and escalators whirring away for nobody, as if Waterloo finally over-reached itself.
And don't forget that anyone can walk properly underneath the station, or rather the platforms, by following the extraordinary Leake Street subway. This used to be grim and grimy until the graffiti artists moved in and now it's a colourfultunnel with street art on every surface, and yours to admire until someone paints yet another new layer over the top. It goes on a bit too, as you'd expect at Britain's broadest station, being much more cavernous at the Eurostar end. But it's quite a hike from here to the station proper, because Waterloo does not prioritise access from the west or south, indeed it's not especially well connected to the local area. I look forward to the day the South Bank entrance eventually reopens.
In summary Waterloo is a station well worth exploring, indeed next time you're 20 minutes early for your advance ticket maybe go for a wander rather than slumping with a coffee. It has its mundane corners and its spectacular bits, plus several bolt-ons since the current building opened 100 years ago, creating an impressively labyrinthine whole. I doubt our present Queen will be popping in to deliver a celebratory telegram, even though she's only a train ride away, but if you walk up the steps under the Victory Arch this afternoon you'll be following in her grandmother's footsteps on this most significant of birthdays. [20 photos]
