So, where in London is furthest away from a Waitrose?
According to the Waitrose Branch Finder the losers are as follows...
» More than 8 miles:Thamesmead, West Drayton
» More than 7 miles: Abbey Wood, Harlington
» More than 6 miles: Woolwich, Welling, Belvedere, Upney, Creekmouth, Yiewsley
» More than 5 miles: Bexleyheath, Ilford, Barking, Harmondsworth, Hayes
These are distances by road, rather than in a straight line.
Did I miss anywhere important?
(Hmmm, Waitrose appear to have mapped their Stratford branch in completely the wrong place, which might invalidate the results)
It ought to be a quiz question. Where was Britain's first Tesco?
Answer? The first Tesco store was in London, but probably not anywhere you're expecting. It was in Burnt Oak.
Quick, before you reveal your geographical ineptitude, Burnt Oak's located where Barnet meets Harrow meets Brent. On the A5, that's Watling Street, between Hendon and Edgware. One stop past Colindale on the Northern line, one station before the end of the line. Some of these facts will turn out to be important. Now back to today's post.
The man behind Tesco was Jack Cohen, a former soldier from the East End. After WWI, he spent his demob money buying surplus NAAFI groceries, then sold them on in local markets. His initial plan was to visit a different market each day of the week, and the first he picked was Well Street Market in South Hackney. He set a few goods out on a table and they were soon snapped up - sold for £4, of which £1 was profit. Gradually his business grew, sucking in non-family members, eventually diversifying into an own brand tea. The TES in Tesco comes from TE Stockwell, the merchant who supplied Jack with that tea, and the CO comes from Cohen, Jack's surname. Small roots.
Well Street barely has a market any more. Maybe a couple of stalls at the weekend, but don't bother looking midweek. Well Street's now a minor shopping street for the estates of South Hackney, a pair of parades topped off with two storeys of flats. You'd come here to use the laundrette, grab a Caribbean takeaway or buy a Percy Ingle pastie. Maybe dragging your shopping basket behind you, maybe parking up your car outside the Post Office. The mixed bag of shops includes some proper independent stores, like A.G. Price the florists or the delights of Blanks Wallpapers. But the Pie and Mash shop appears to have ceased trading relatively recently, and one of the two pubs in the centre of the road now stands empty. Perhaps we could blame Well Street's decline on the supermarket that's arisen at the far end, a squat brick superstore with an abundance of groceries stacked inside. It's a Tesco, obviously - a Tesco Metro open all hours even when the other local traders aren't. And yet those who aren't direct competition survive, perhaps spurred on by the footfall a medium-sized supermarket brings. It's no comfort to the departed market traders hereabouts, but there is something hugely appropriate about Jack's retail legacy lingering so close the site of his first sale. [photo]
And so to Burnt Oak. In common with much of Middlesex suburbia this used to be all fields, although the presence of a turnpike road helped a minor settlement to grow up. In the 1870s there was just one shop, by the turn of the century a few more, but nothing of any importance until the railways came. The arrival of the Northern line in 1924 inspired the London County Council to build a large estate for the rehousing of slum dwellers in Islington. This was the Watling Estate, built across Goldbeaters Farm, and a fresh clutch of shops were needed to serve the growing population. The first opened up by the Broadway, eventually stretching in a long parade down to the fledgling station. And it was to Burnt Oak that Jack Cohen turned his gaze when seeking to open his very first store. "Tesco Stores Ltd The Modern Grocers" said the sign on the shopfront, while the window was stacked high with pyramids of tinned goods and packets of Tesco Tea.
There's no Tesco at number 9 Watling Avenue today. Instead numbers 9 and 10 are home to Superdrug, the chain who moved in when Tesco moved out. They've got a prime spot by the bus stop, and a window display advertising half price Christmas offers on hair products. A tiny stack of shopping baskets sits by the door, by the look of them thirty years old, before the main store opens out ahead. It's four aisles wide, with bland white walls and a suspended ceiling, clearly much redeveloped from the original 1931 decor. No packs of own brand tea here, but plenty of lipsticks, cough sweets and disinfectant. I bought myself a toothbrush, as a simple souvenir, and the sales ladies at the checkout were charming. [photo]
The parade of shops down the hill survives, even thrives, although more with discount stores than anything too upmarket. Superdrug itself is sandwiched between a clothes shop and a continental food store, the latter much more varied than the first Tesco ever was. And no, they didn't go far, just a couple of hundred yards round the corner onto Burnt Oak Broadway. Again the Tesco School of Architecture has built an ugly but functional cuboid, in sharp contrast to the former Co-Op across the road (once described as their "finest department store"). This Tesco is eight aisles wide, stretching back all the way to the car park, and considerably easier to push a trolley around. As Jack's empire has grown, so has his very first store, but I doubt that many in Burnt Oak realise the significance of their weekly shop.
In South Hackney I pass Vietnam's Finest Nail Salon. It's definitely not.
In Moorgate, Crossrail intrudes. A large group of workmen are sitting in a row outside a cavernous construction site, chatting and smoking fags. In the old days this would have been called a tea break.
In the Barbican, the queue to enter the Rain Room is already fifty people long. It doesn't open for another half hour, and this is only midweek. Not today, then.
In the Museum of London, half a dozen school trips are making their way around the building. One teacher is trying ever so hard to keep her little darlings quiet before they go in, but Alfie isn't having it. Another group is behaving impeccably wandering around the Medieval London gallery with clipboards. Downstairs a gentleman in a top hat is introducing himself to a class of children, but they don't seem to have cottoned onto the fact he's Mr Charles Dickens and are making an excitable racket. It's not the best day to be looking round.
In Burnt Oak, the wind is so strong that the letter 'O' flies off the front of the Golden Buffet Island restaurant and lands on the pavement near the bus stop. One of the 'E's, or maybe the 'A', look like they'll be next.
In Watford, next to what used to be the Post Office, I get round to buying a new camera. It's no expensive SLR, just another point-and-shoot, but I'm looking forward to dumping my crappy Samsung brick at the earliest opportunity.
In Earl's Court I walk around the edge of the doomed exhibition centre, amongst delegates emerging from Pet Ex 2013. I incorrectly assume this is a gathering of animal lovers, whereas in fact it's a petroleum industry love-in. Signs outside give the dates of next November's expo, but not the location, which probably won't be here if the demolition men have moved in by then. Just how many more prestige housing developments does west London need?
In West Acton I stop for a cup of tea and discuss the newtube map. Apart from the orange loop, and a couple of step-free stations, there doesn't appear to be anything different to the last one.
In Ealing I'm taken for a guided tour of 2011 riot hotspots, including a murderous alleyway and a boarded-up cafe that's never recovered from the night's destruction.
In Bow, it pisses down.
(there's an interesting commercial connection between two of these locations, which I'll tell you about later...)
Station being knocked down:Shoreditch Planning permission permitting, the bulldozers are going in. This is at the the old Shoreditchstation, just off Brick Lane, which closed to the public in 2006. It wasn't needed for the new Overground railway, and it had a pitifully low number of passengers, so the end of the line was severed and the ticket office building has lain neglected ever since. Over the years it's been gradually, thenrepeatedly, covered in graffiti, the latest incarnation being an all-black design with silver lettering. Despite its proximity to one of London's trendiest streets, the alleyway is no glamorous location - the Sunday Times described it as an "urban-pissoir-crack-den". And now the station's to be turned into flats. Who wouldn't want to live here? The latest plans are for a six storey building, downgraded from seven in the previous failed application. The ground floor will be an art or retail space, glass-walled, open to peering in. The next four floors will be flats, clad in perforated brick, nine in total, some with balconies large enough for "celebration dining". Down in the basement, where the train tracks used to terminate, will be a shared open garden and office space. And the top floor is potentially a bit special, described by the architects as a "community crown". It'll be constructed using bricks from the old station, with arches echoing the original 1876 building. It's hoped a charity will move into the meeting rooms up here, perhaps something local and music-related. The complete stacked-up building should therefore be a mix of old and modern, part-resembling the old station lifted into the sky. The Victorian Society are unimpressed, claiming that "loss of this building would be detrimental to the character of the conservation area." But if you want to complain you're too late, because the brief three week consultation window closed last week. If you've always wanted to live in a disused tube station (or above it, or under it, depending), this might be your chance. [photo 2][plans]
Station now upgraded:Crystal Palace The low level station at Crystal Palace was built for grander times. When the great glass exhibition moved here in 1854, a rail link was dug through the clay to provide access for hordes of Victorian pleasure seekers. They arrived into a majesticbrickvault, with sixty-something steps to ascend up to park level, then out through a spacious ticket hall. Over the years that ticket hall fell into disrepair, so exit then had to be via a tortuous down-and-then-back-up-again labyrinth of stairs. A separate ticket hall annexe was added, designed to mimic the Crystal Palace, although that wasn't green, and it wasn't quite lovely. The end result was possibly London's most step-unfree station, which is not how TfL like to run a railway, so they initiated a refurbishment. They've removed the 20th century entrance and restored the original ticket hall to its former glories, and blimey the contrast is enormous. The new space is lofty, almost church-like, with white-painted surfaces and ornate green ironwork. It'd look nicer if one corner wasn't fenced off with ticket barriers, but needs must, and there's loads of room elsewhere. A cafe has opened up in the farthest anteroom, for all of those who prefer to use stations more for coffee than for trains. It's a proper independent cafe too, courtesy of Brown and Green who also have the franchise at Gipsy Hill up the line. Enjoy a flat white or chai latte, with a nice slice of cake thrown in, and maybe catch the train to Victoria later if you can be bothered. You'll still have to negotiate those sixty-something awkward steps to reach your train, but at least the start of your journey was a huge improvement. [ticket hall photo]
Station almost tweaked:Clapham Junction In just over two weeks time the London Overground becomes a proper orbital railway. One end of the new link is at Clapham Junction, currently served by trains from Willesden Junction, and soon to be served by trains from Peckham. This has required the opening up of a new platform, so that South London line trains have somewhere to terminate, and passengers have somewhere else to wait. Clapham Junction's loaded with platforms, seventeen in total, but it's still taken some effort to shoehorn more trains in. Concentrate now. The original platform one has been abandoned, now a short stumpy semi-overgrown side-channel. Alongside is the former platform two, which is where existing Overground services pull up, but which has been renamed platform one. And that's recently been extended to the southwest to create a new elongated space, the new platform two, where trains on the new southern link will terminate. New platform two is indented slightly by one trackswidth, allowing trains to arrive separately without crashing into each other (a bit Colchesteresque). What's been created here is an Overground island, long and thin, two trains long, where changing should be a doddle. It's not ready yet - there are still workmen bolting bits together and a wall dividing off new platform two beside the lift. But there are now additional stairs allowing for a swifter exit, both upand down, which'll be incredibly useful. It's already pretty damned busy here most of the time, because services on the West London Line don't run frequently enough to meet demand, so it'll be interesting to see if the new Overground link makes congestion better or worse. Starting 7:20am, Sunday 9th December. Be there, or be probably still asleep. [photo 2]
The people of Leyton have had to make do without Drapers Field since September last year. A few acres of all weather football pitch and playing fields, it had the misfortune to be immediately adjacent to the Olympic Village and so was requisitioned by LOCOG "for operational reasons" to store toilet rolls and the like. Now all that remains is excess fencing and excess tarmac, as Waltham Forest prepare to take yet more months to turn the place into a better facility than before. Security guards no longer gaze intently if you linger at the end of Crownfield Road, but the park still hangs somewhat unwelcomely over these perimeter streets.
Direct pedestrian access from the east to Westfield has at last been opened up. You'd never guess from the blue sign that still directs those on foot via the previous loopy detour, but ignore that, walk up the direct pavement and you'll save five minutes. Penny Brookes Street is more a conduit for big-booted cars, even on a Sunday morning when most of the shops aren't even open. You can see hundreds of premature arrivals wandering the malls before noon, staring through the big stores' shuttered doors, wishing they'd stayed at home a bit longer.
At the northern end of Westfield an ice rink has appeared where Santa's house was last year, and Santa's house has reappeared alongside the station. Stratford International has returned to being a woefully overstaffed nomansland, even though it's now finally been connected to the public road network. A new road has opened, unimaginitively named International Way, which I appeared to be the only person using at the weekend. It's five and a half years since I first saw a road sign pointing towards this station, and only post-Olympics is this unwanted link finally possible.
The road along the boundary between Westfield and the Olympic Park is now a conduit for traffic heading multi-storey-ward. Gone are the queues of spectators clutching tickets, and gone are all the tents where the army stood to frisk them down. Few places scream "The Olympics are over" quite as much as this utterly empty plaza. Where people once streamed to the horizon, now it only takes two security guards to stand by the fence and keep nobody at bay. That was Sunday, anyway. On Monday Rihanna turned up on a temporary stage and pouted her way through her new album, then switched on the mall's Christmas lights, and the place was rammed. Some wit at Westfield has named this featureless tarmac "Cherry Park". Not yet it's not, nowhere even close.
The best views of Olympic Central are still from Montfichet Road, the street on stilts snaking down to the railway. Look, the wings on the Aquatic Centre are coming down. It's a slow process, but the steep seats have now been exposed sufficiently to create a wind tunnel from one end to the other. All the wrap's been removed from the exterior of the Olympic Stadium, as it sits there waiting for someone, anyone, to finally decide what to do with it. And the Orbit, probably still a year and a half off taking its next paying customer, stands inert and useless above a grey desert. One day, honest, it'll be amazing again around here. That day remains some way off.
Warton Road's security checkpoint has finally been dismantled, which would be to motorists' joy had not temporary traffic lights been installed instead. One dilapidated brick office block with smashed windows has somehow survived Olympic rehabilitation, while everything else around it has become flats flats flats. A 43 storey residential tower screams "Stratford has changed" to the surrounding boroughs, and looks down haughtily upon local residents who'll never be able to afford to live in it. The footbridge over Stratford High Street isn't long for this world. The stairs at each end have already been removed, then the weekend after next a crane arrives to loosen it and cart it away. Recyclable, sustainable, forgettable.
Let's end by diverting up Marshgate Lane to Pudding Mill Lane station. Once a main route in for Olympic construction traffic, then an entrance for VIPs, now the engineers at Crossrail hold sway. They're diverting the Docklands Light Railway south to make way for trains emerging from underground, which means a new viaduct and a relocated station. The latter's coming on, in a concrete cuboid way, while the new tracks doesn't seem to have extended since worked paused in the summer. From the existing platforms the stadium's clearly seen, while the warmup-tracks across the Greenway have now been wholly and utterly wiped away. More flats are going there, obviously, eventually, although it remains questionable how few of them will be affordable. And there's the View Tube, access beneath the mainline still sealed off, but maybe opening again in ten days. Knock hard enough, and they'll have to let us back in eventually.
It was a lovely day on Sunday, so I went for a walk around the Olympic Park. Sorry, I do this far too often. I took several photos on the way. Sorry, I do this far too often. And now I'm going to tell you all about it, even though you're not really interested. Sorry, I do this far too often too. But until they let people back inside the Park again, what do you expect? At least the photos are very pretty this time, with a lot of watery reflections. I promise not to walk round again until at least 2013. Apologies.
Around the post-Olympic Park a) Bow Roundabout to Leyton
22 photographs here; map here
Welcome once againto the Bow Roundabout. It's a year now since cyclist Svitlana Tereschenkomet her death on the westbound approach, and her white ghost bike has been reinstated on the railings in memoriam. Brian Dorling's ghost bike languishes beyond McDonalds, moved out of the way (with permission) in the spring, but never moved back. Someone's finally got round to cutting back the vegetation on the ramp to the floating towpath, so it's less like a jungle down there. Half of the temporary security gate across the Lea has been removed, but not the locking bit alongside the towpath which may be here for the duration. And Crossrail are intruding more, having knocked down more of the industrial units over the right-hand wall, and filled in more of their cofferdam in the river with pebbles. With the ground strengthened they can start digging the Pudding Mill Portal underneath, but it'll be at least six years before you'll be able to follow.
Something about the weather is perfect - blue skies, no wind - so the surface of the river is as still as the proverbial millpond. Add in the total lack of green algae at this time of year, and conditions are just right for mirrorlike reflections. It's impossible to see the Olympic warm-up track over the fence, if indeed it's still there, and still impossible to walk up the ramp onto the Greenway. Everything to do with scanning machines was removed several weeks back, so now all that remains is an unnecessarily large expanse of concrete surrounded by razor wire. Allegedly public access will be returned to this strip of Greenway in December, possibly even the first weekend in December, but as yet there's no tangible evidence. Even the View Tube's website remains resolutely offline, offering no clues, but presumably they'll be serving up frothy coffee to post-Olympic tourists soon.
The sunlight rippling underneath the Greenway is as good as I've ever seen it, if sewage transference tubing can ever be deemed beautiful. Almost nobody's here, bar the occasional jogger and flurry of cyclists. The waterbus stop at Old Ford Lock lies empty, as it has done ever since Water Chariots went under, and there's no sign of any alternative provider nipping in to run a pleasureboat replacement. The lock itself is sealed off, pending off-season renovation, so the winter moorings just to the north are being well used. Woodsmoke belches from a small chimney aboard one characterful narrowboat, while well-wrapped diners on a pontoon across the river tuck into their fried breakfasts. There's still much to enjoy around here, even though the five ring circus has left town.
And it really has left. Previously this stretch of the riverbank was overshadowed by a line of stacked-high prefabs housing the London 2012 sponsor village, but that's now been entirely dismantled. Instead there's a perfectly clear view of the Olympic Stadium - the closest you can currently get to it - apart from the obligatory security fence and cameras. Since I was last here it's noticeable that almost everything temporary has gone, anything that might have held a TV studio, restaurant or backroom. This was the powerhouse of the commercial side of the Games, but all that now remains is a very long very empty space. This bit won't be part of the post-legacy park, it's just outside, and is destined to be built upon (eventually) for apartments. Enjoy the unobstructed view while you can... it'll last a year or two more, then disappear forever.
At White Post Lane the canoeists are out, fresh from the Eton Mission Rowing club, one group of four and one single sculler. I seem to remember there were once plans for Kings Yard alongside the Energy Centre to become an Olympic Museum once the Games were over, but I fear we can assume that's never going to happen. Again the outskirts of the Olympic Park beyond are blank, as are the entire interior hereabouts bar the permanent Copper Box. One particularly unnerving thing is the disappearance of the 500m-long strip of car parking along the opposite side of the fence. This was shoehorned into Olympic construction plans at the very last minute, despite the presence of a perfectly good multi-storey car park in the corner of the site, reputedly at the request of lazysod broadcasters NBC. Its 150 spaces were then barely used, and now there are diggers breaking them up because they were never meant to be here in the first place. If you're ever on a committee investigating London 2012 budgetary waste, I'd shine a torch here if I were you.
Turning right off the Lea onto the Eastway, that multi-storey by the International Broadcast Centre remains echoingly empty. The security tents have disappeared further along, and the Riverbank Arena where the hockey was held has been entirely dismantled. There's not much left of Dan Harris's ghost bike by the A12 junction, but his helmet, gloves and neckerchief have somehow survived the ravages of three months in the open. A more unlikely Olympic remnant is the sloping meadow by the Eton Manor gate, many of its flowers still blooming brightly even in mid-November, if a little worse for wear. Up here along the northern edge of the park a few temporary tents and grandstands are still to be removed, so a workforce is there right now doing just that. The East Marsh remains football-free for another season, now a vast abandoned coach park awaiting grassy restitution. Temple Mills Lane is starting to be used by construction traffic for the East Village, and for Westfield deliveries, but not yet by you and I. Meanwhile round the corner in Leyton you'd never know the Games had been and gone, bar some nicer pavements outside the tube station.
Plans are afoot for a new bridge across the Thames. A new footbridge, that is, between the London boroughs of Wandsworth and Hammersmith and Fulham. It'd be built roughly halfway along a mile-long gap between Wandsworth Bridge and Battersea Bridge, allowing pedestrians and cyclists to nip between the two sides of the Thames without having to make an annoying detour. Sounds like a sensible idea, no?
The project takes advantage of the railway bridge that already crosses here, ferrying the Overground between Clapham Junction and Imperial Wharf. Once there's one bridge in a particular location, logic has it, local residents are far less likely to object to the construction of another. Plus it'd be convenient to have the choice of foot, bike or rail to cross the river, especially when this is one of the busiest parts of the Overground and trains can be chocker.
The plans have been put forward by a "small, efficient and ambitious" architectural practice based on the Battersea banks of the Thames. They'd be a beneficiary of any new bridge, obviously, but so would thousands of others, and maybe it takes a local eye to spot the necessity of such a project. The "evening economy circuit" would benefit, apparently, as it became easier to visit cross-river restaurants and walk home afterwards. In particular those on the Battersea side of the Thames would be able to cross easily to reach Imperial Wharf station, which otherwise lies frustratingly out of reach, and from there gain access to the rest of the rail network.
An application for planning permission was submitted last week, and the scheme duly made ripples in theLondon media. But is this a genuine proposal, or is it just a bunch of architects making a noise in an attempt to get noticed? I headed down to Battersea Reach to take a look, and I have my doubts.
The problem's on the Sands End side. The western end of the footbridge would land in one of the most public-unfriendly parts of the capital, on the boundary between the Imperial Wharf and Chelsea Harbour developments. "PRIVATE PROPERTY" scream the notices on the embankment waterways. "This site is protected by 24 hour security guards and full CCTV coverage." There are cameras everywhere, undoubtedly linked to some paid-for control room, lest any non-resident interloper create too much disturbance within these luxury environs. A lot of very rich people moved to this dead-end location in order to be tucked away inside their own semi-private enclave. The last thing they want is oiks from Battersea traipsing through.
The Chelsea Harbour side of the railway has pretty poor public access. The entire site is covered by a labyrinth of luxury apartments nestled around a central marina, and there's no way that would be an acceptable exit for cyclists. One main access road slinks round the back of the site, along the viaduct, but that's not exactly welcoming. "No vehicles except for loading and access." "In the interest of public safety Cycling, Skating and Rollerblading are not permitted." And on the road down to the riverfront "Taxis/Chauffeurs Only." I told you they were posh round here. Management really aren't going to want to make this the main way on and off a bridge.
Fortunately the footbridge is due to land on the opposite side of the railway viaduct, on the Imperial Wharf side. Unfortunately several large apartment blocks have been built along the waterfront, all with prestige views, entirely blocking the route to the road network beyond. There's a cut-through 300m upriver, but detouring that far would be annoying, plus cycling's persona non grata around here. The only viable access would be the direct route along the edge of the railway viaduct, except these are private gardens and they're gated shut at the far end. Residents would have to sacrifice their exterior space if this new bridge went ahead, and I'm not sure I can see that happening.
There are twopiers here, one on either side of the railway bridge. For the Diamond Jubilee Pageant the Queen embarked on her royal barge from the Chelsea Harbour pier, so there are plans to name this the Jubilee Footbridge if it comes to pass. A nice heart-tugging touch, even if anniversary projects are usually designed to open in the specific year rather than two years late. Except the designers would rather not call it just the "Jubilee Footbridge". They propose selling off the naming rights to anyone who can afford £22m, because that would pay for the construction costs so the connection could be "gifted to London at no cost to the taxpayer". Sigh.
We appear to have entered an era when paying to get your brand's name on the map of London is deemed wholly acceptable. Britain's football stadia succumbed first, then we got an entertainment venue named after a mobile phone company, and most recently a cablecar named after a Middle Eastern airline. "It wouldn't get built otherwise," is the mantra, "don't you know there's a recession on?" The public gets something it can use, and a brand name is shoehorned into our everyday lives. Alternatively Londoners could pay £3 each to get this new bridge built, in the old fashioned way via fares and taxation, but you get stared at in a funny way if you suggest that these days.
Whatever, there is one possibly entertaining result if this particular bit of infrastructure gets a brand slapped on it. Can you imagine how the oligarch residents of Chelsea Harbour would react if this bridge were named something unpleasantly downmarketly inappropriate? The Easyjet Jubilee Footbridge. The QVC Jubilee Footbridge. The Virgin Broadband Jubilee Footbridge. OK, it's not likely. But then the chances of this bridge coming to pass in the first place don't look that likely, given the potential access issues on the western bank. Don't hold your breath.
6pm update: Chris from architects One-world Design has posted a comment, which you can read here, and also emailed me a 4MB copy of the Design and Access statement. That's not yet in the public domain, but soon will be, and includes 46 pages of detailed information about the bridge, its design, and the support it has from the two local authorities. As you'd expect, the detail looks very well thought through. But on the subject of access by Imperial Wharf, all the document says is "Pedestrian and cycle access to the bridge is from the existing riverside walkway on the west bank". So to get to Fulham, a bit of a detour. And to get to Chelsea, a bit where you're forced to get off your bike and walk. Almost very well thought through.
It's fair to say that Roman Road isn't one of London's best known markets. Perhaps it ought to be, given its fashion-focus and longevity. But the market's lost its sparkle over the years, despite several attempts by the council to spruce it up. Its location isn't great either, holed up in a corner of Bow that's on the way to nowhere, unless you're local. You'd probably not think to come, nor be bothered to come even if you thought. So the traders got together and submitted their cause to the latest Government retail initiative, the Portas Pilot scheme... and promptly failed to become one of the 27 lucky winners.
But never fear, Mary's here. She's making a short series of programmes about reviving high streets for Channel 4, and one of her selected targets is Roman Road. The project culminated last Saturday with a grand relaunch, complete with pearly kings and queens and 50s tribute acts. The stalls along the pedestrianised street got a candystripe refresh, and several street food merchants were brought in to give the place some uplift. It rained rather a lot, but Ms Portas came along and beamed and schmoozed and helped the whole event go off with a swing. Or so I'm told. I heard bugger all about the event in advance, despite only living half a mile away, which doesn't necessarily bode well for any publicity the relaunch was trying to achieve.
So I thought I'd go "down the Roman" one week later, that's yesterday morning, to see if I could spot the differences Mary's Town Team had wrought.
I passed a young lady clutching a freshly-purchased handbag as I arrived. A good sign, I thought, even if the buyer looked very local and bag a fraction tasteless. It had been bought from the first stall at the top end of the market - a few racks of non-designer leather-look creations, and nothing that'd ever grace the streets of Mayfair. The next few stalls set out the pattern of much of what was to follow. A lot of dresses and other ladieswear, hanging from racks labelled "Top Shop", "Oasis", "River Island", etc. I assumed this wasn't genuine chain store fodder, nor blatant knock off, but some kind of mass produced cheap copy. The market is indeed an ideal spot to buy high-street-looking fashion at sub-high-street prices, to fill up your wardrobe at low-budget prices. But only if you're a woman. Most of the blokes I saw tagging along looked rather bored.
This being the start of the winter season, there were plenty of boots on offer. Tall furry things, like Mary would wear, although I suspect she shops elsewhere. Plenty of jewellery too, more at the bling end than the sparkly end of the spectrum, and plenty of accessories too. There were several non-fashion interludes, such as CD merchants and kids toy pedlars, plus some beautifully laid-out fruit and veg. But the Roman's nothing like Petticoat Lane or Walthamstow. It's much more the sort of place you leave with something to wear than something to scrub the floor with, for which reason alone the market deserves to be doing better than it is. [photo][photo]
I couldn't immediately spot Mary's upgrade, although playing spot the difference isn't easy when you're not a regular. I think the pink and white awnings were new, some of them at least, so there was now some coherence end-to-end. I walked on behind a woman on a scooter and a small dog in a winter coat, looking out for an element of abnormal class. Nothing, until I was right up the far end by St Stephen's Road. Here was a genuinely new experience, for E3 if not for London - half a dozen carts of street food. A beardy chef in a stripy apron called BurgerBear. A coffee cart doing proper 21st century caffeine. Two gentsfryingup eggs benedict, bacon and berry-topped French toast. And, in what's almost certainly a first for the Roman Road, an artisanbakery offering Madeleines, Florentines and Giant French Macarons ("two almond meringue discs filled with flavoured buttercream or chocolate ganache" "made by hand in small batches"). This may be normal in your corner of London but, trust me, it's a revelation round here.
Beyond the market, on the non-pedestrianised stretch of Roman Road, footfall was low. There are still boutiques down there, a couple of finecafes and a new cards and gift shop called Snap. But few marketgoers venture that far, it seems, as though the stalls are all they've come to see. If Mary's brief stretches the full length of the road, there's much more to be done.
Roman Road's still a very working class market, I'd say, albeit with a dash of fashion flair. What Mary appears to be after is more middle class shoppers, lured in by variety and value and some tasty French tarts. An ideal destination in an age of austerity, she hopes, where you can dress in style for only a tenner. I suspect it'll be hard to attract far-flung punters, but if some of the younger professionals from Bethnal Green and South Hackney can be tempted in, all the better. When you watch the episode next spring, please don't think this corner of E3 is all pearly kings, craft stalls and musical performances - that was all for the TV cameras. But do come and take a look one Saturday, as Mary nudges Roman Road upmarket, else one day this market might fade away altogether.
One other retail giant is hoping to ride to Roman Road's rescue, and that's Tesco. They're building a new Metro-sized store and several flats on the site that used to be Safeway, just round the back of the library. The Roman Road area's suffered this last decade from the lack of a decent supermarket, the best of late being an Iceland where Woolworths used to be. Disturbingly this'll be E3's fourth Tesco, in a postcode that boasts no Sainsbury, no Asda, no Lidl, no Aldi and no Morrisons, and is starting to feel like a grocery monopoly. What's yet to be seen is whether the arrival of a major player will draw fresh customers into this shopping street, or suck the life right out of it. I fear the latter, unless Mary's Town Team can work their magic.
Tuesday update (from the Roman Road Town Team): "The Team that's trying to get something done about the market is a group of local volunteers who want to do something about the sad state the Road and the market has fallen into. We all have day jobs - inevitably it's slow going. Sorry you didn't hear about what was happening the other weekend - our PR budget is non-existent! You can find out what's coming up by following @romanroadmarket on twitter. And if you've got any good ideas and (even better) any time to spare to help, you can contact us on theromantownteam@gmail.com. If nothing else, if you liked the coffee and the giant macarons and the gift shop up the Road, go up to the market every so often and buy something, otherwise they won't be there for much longer!"
And so ends diamond geezer's tenth annual tube week. I continue to be amazed by how much interactive interest the London Underground inspires, even amongst people who rarely or never use it, so thanks for all your 200+ comments. Maybe I'm finally running out of new tube-related stuff to write about, because this year I finally succumbed and wrote a tube week post about closed-downstations. But somehow I suspect not. Same time next year?
Tube geek (45)Chameleon stations
Amongst the mass of information hidden on the TfL website is a spreadsheet containing annual passengers numbers for every tube station in London. The latest data's for entries and exits in 2011, and I've already posted top 10 lists of the busiest and quietest stations back in May. But today I've been database-bashing to find the stations that change the most at different times of the week. The most extreme differences appear towards the start of each list.
Busier on Saturdays than weekdays: Leicester Square, Stratford, Camden Town, Piccadilly Circus, Covent Garden, Notting Hill Gate, Kensington (Olympia), Knightsbridge, Earl's Court, Heathrow Terminals 123, Heathrow Terminal 4, Bayswater At least three times busier on weekdays than Saturdays: Cannon Street, Moorgate, Farringdon, St James's Park, Bank/Monument, Chancery Lane, Temple, Aldgate, Great Portland Street, Mansion House, Euston Square, Upminster Bridge
Busier on Sundays than weekdays: Kensington (Olympia), Heathrow Terminal 4, Heathrow Terminals 123, Heathrow Terminal 5 At least ten times busier on weekdays than Sundays: Cannon Street, Farringdon, Moorgate
Busier on Sundays than Saturdays: Mornington Crescent, Heathrow Terminal 5 More than twice as busy on Saturdays as Sundays: Upminster, Upminster Bridge, Farringdon, Hornchurch, Holloway Road
Tube quiz (45)Nice view
Being mostly underground, the view out of a tube carriage window isn't usually thrilling. Except that about 60% of the underground is in fact overground, and some of the overground parts are quite pretty. So today I'm asking you where the best views on the tube network are. I've listed five stretches of line I particularly like, in no particular order. You've added several more. 1) Chalfont & Latimer → Chesham: On this four mile trek through the upper reaches of the Chess Valley, at one point the trackside opens up to reveal gorgeous rolling rural slopes. Especially lovely at this time of year with a display of golden leaves. [photo] 2) Roding Valley → Chigwell: Another river valley, this one flattish but wonderfully open, and with the M11 roaring underneath. [photo] 3) the Kilburn viaduct: Rumbling up to town from Metroland, suddenly the rooftops of London are all around, and the heights of Hampstead rise off to one side. 4) Parsons Green → East Putney: First the rooftops of Fulham, then the glories of crossing the open Thames (along the Boat Race bit). 5) Arnos Grove → Southgate: Another scenic viaduct, this time through the heart of Arnos Park (and the underneath, alongside Pymmes Brook, that's rather nice too). 6) Gunnersbury → Kew Gardens: The lattice bridge over the Thames affords great views eastwards up the river and down to Strand-on-the-Green below (says THC) 7) Mill Hill East → Finchley Central: Great views from the train as well as at ground level, on the viaduct over Finchley Golf Course (say Bernie and Peewit) 8) Loughton → Epping: Very nice to see rolling fields plus, in the Spring, the yellow fields of rapeseed flowers (says PC) At Theydon Bois the view is quite attractive with cows, horses, motorways (says Peter) 9) Wembley Park to Kingsbury: Some of the best views are unexpected - after the urban landscape of Wembley you suddenly get a brief view of Fryent Country Park (says KissenMe) 10) Croxley → Watford: Crossing the viaduct you get to look down onto the canal and the canal boats (says Geofftech) 11) Hammersmith → Acton Town: I like the climb out of Hammersmith and seeing over the rooftops of West London (says PC) 12) Dagenham East → Elm Park: Runs through a lovely area of heathland called Eastbrookend Country Park. I remember looking out of the train and seeing a horse and rider standing on a hillock next to the line (says Siwi) 13) Rayners Lane → South Harrow: Another viaduct, and halfway along there's a spur of redundant viaduct curving away to the north - always piques the curiosity (says Gordon)
Tubewatch (45)Next-but-one train indicators
It wouldn't be tube week if I didn't sound off about Next Train Indicators. But this time not the fact that they're badly positioned. This time not that they're being replaced by inferior hard-to-read models. This time I want to whinge about the additional Next Train Indicators located in ticket halls. Because all too often they don't tell you what the next train is.
Here's the ticket hall at Mile End, with two small Next Train Indicators pinned up on the wall. If you stand here and watch them, left and right, they show the destinations of the next trains on the District/H&C and Central lines. But they only show these trains if they're two minutes away or more. Once the due time dips beneath two minutes they disappear off the list, as if to pretend these trains don't exist. For anyone down on the platform the Next Train Indicators are still ticking down "1 min" and then "stand back next train approaching". But someone at TfL HQ has deliberately programmed the ticket hall devices to conceal sub-2minute approaching trains, presumably for health and safety reasons. If the Next Train Indicators revealed that a train was only one minute away, they think we'd all run down the stairs and cause a nasty accident. But at Mile End it takes less than 30 seconds to walk down those stairs from the ticket hall to the platform. You'd have to have a serious mobility issue not to be able to get down those stairs in one minute, let alone two, so the two minute cut-off is essentially pointless. Indeed, many's the time I've checked the NTI and then walked down the stairs and straight onto a train which supposedly didn't exist. This is nannying, pure and simple, hiding useful information that we're not allowed to know.
And yet this rule isn't consistently maintained elsewhere. One stop up the line at Bow Road, the Next Train Indicator in the ticket hall mimics the Next Train Indicator on the platform. There's no two minute cut off here, even though the stairs are longer than at Mile End. If there's a train on the display when you arrive at the station, it might already have pulled into the platform and you've as good as missed it. And yet passengers don't all charge dangerously down the stairs just because there's a train one or zero minutes away. Bow Road users can be trusted to know this information without acting stupidly. There's trust too at Finchley Road station, where the upstairs Next Train Indicators faithfully record platform comings and goings in real time. But there's a cover-up at Euston and Holborn, in this case because it really is a long way to the platforms and you could never catch a one-minute-away train.
You've probably seen further examples of Next-But-One Train Indicators at other stations across London, although you may not have twigged they were hiding something from you, because not every station's the same. It would be nice if TfL could adopt a more consistent approach to how many minutes-away they're willing to tell you when you enter a ticket hall. And if someone could debug Mile End first, that would be great.
Tube quiz (44)From the centre
The centre of London is usually taken to be Charing Cross. So my question is this. Which station on the tube network is furthest from Charing Cross station? A few rules: We're counting stations, not measuring time or distance. We're looking for the fewest number of stations via the shortest route. Only London Underground trains are allowed - no National Rail, no DLR, no Overground. Only interchanges marked on the tube map are allowed - no walking along the street. 1) Piccadilly Circus, Leicester Square and Embankment are one station away. 2) Green Park, Oxford Circus, Tottenham Court Road, Covent Garden, Temple, Waterloo and Westminster are two stations away.
So which station is furthest away? And how?
Tubewatch (44)The Circle line goes east
I didn't believe it at first. According to the TfL website, the Circle line serves Bow Road. Surely it couldn't. The Circle line goes round in midtown loops, and also heads west to Hammersmith. But no way did it stretch east, no way did it pass through my local station. Except actually it does, twice a day, very very early in the morning. I had to take a ride.
Strange things happen on the Underground before six in the morning. Trains have to make their way from the depot to where they're needed, which for the Circle line means sending two trains into town from Barking. And so I set my alarm clock two hours earlier than usual to rendezvous with one of these secret services. Dawn was distant, the pavements were quiet, and Bow Road's ticket hall reeked from the smell of freshly applied paint. I wasn't alone on the platform, there were four of us and a bike. When the first westbound District line train arrived it was already half full, but I was waiting for the next train, heralded as "Not in Service". And in it rumbled, duly labelled "Circle line to Edgware Road" on the front, proving the rumours true. I wondered whether the train would stop, then I wondered whether the doors would open, and then I took my seat. Circle line from Bow Road, achievement unlocked.
At Mile End, Stepney Green and Whitechapel, the Next Train Indicator again said "Not in Service". This could have been a deliberate deception, but more likely the ancient signalling couldn't cope with our unusual destination. Mis-labelling didn't stop people boarding, although my companions in the carriage were few and far between. One in earmuffs, one clutching a ribbed cup of coffee, another already reading a copy of this morning's Metro. The time was not yet six o'clock, but the City's bankers and cleaning staff were already on their way.
For anyone awake enough to be listening, an announcement at Aldgate East revealed our train's true nature. "Ladies and gentlemen this train now becomes a Circle line train via Tower Hill, Embankment and Victoria." That's not an unusual route for a District line train, but C Stock always turns right round the bend towards Liverpool Street instead. Not us. We headed along track no other Circle line service follows, and emerged as if by magic at Tower Hill. Nobody waiting on the station blinked. As far as they knew we'd arrived around the usual clockwise curve rather than heading straight from the depot. The unique part of our journey was over, and suddenly we were just a bog-standard Circle.
Fresh passengers boarded, still not many, each sitting silently and alone. That's a characteristic of these early morning trains, the lack of interaction, and all because nobody rides in groups or pairs. Someone's having crisps for breakfast. Someone's reading a copy of The Sun. A glum blonde sits inert with a floppy silver bag at her feet. Blackfriars is quiet, because barely any trains have yet arrived at the mainline station. Embankment is busier. St James's Park is completely deserted. If anyone fancies a seat there are dozens, in complete contrast to the rush hour crush that's still an hour or two away.
After Gloucester Road our train veers right. This brief Circle-only curve is the sole reason we're here - no other train could have reached it so early. A handful of passengers take advantage, nipping off at High Street Ken, a station I shouldn't be able to reach from Bow Road. Ditto Notting Hill Gate and Bayswater, both rare treats from my neck of the woods, but not necessarily worth waking up so early for. Numbers aboard are edging up, even a few long haul travellers with suitcases. The capital's office workers are starting to filter through - the over-keen, and the time-shifted. It may be stupid o'clock, but needs must.
Around half past six we finally reach Edgware Road, where almost all of those aboard cross the platform to catch the next clockwise service. But not our driver. He walks the length of the train and prepares to head back round the Circle, nowhere near Bow Road this time, but a proper loop round to Hammersmith. A couple of pigeons hop aboard and start pecking the floor clean of crumbs, just as the doors close and a very ordinary journey begins. And OK, so you might never ever get up quite this early, but when your train arrives in the morning, remember you never do know quite where it's been.
Tube geek (44)No change
There are several places on the Underground network where tube lines cross but no interchange station has been built. Here are some of the worst offenders, and what might be done about them.
» Piccadilly→Central at Park Royal[map]. This has been mooted, at least tentatively. A couple of new platforms in the cutting by the A40, accessed via the existing footbridge, would mean Park Royal gained two new Central line platforms. It'd be better than an 8 minute walk to Hanger Lane. But the existing Hanger lane station would probably have to close, which is a bit of a waste of a good roundabout.
» Piccadilly/Metropolitan→Central at West Ruislip[map]. This has been seriously considered, or at least Hillingdon Council are a strong supporter. They like to see Central line trains diverted via a short chord to terminate at Uxbridge instead of West Ruislip. It's be a fairly simple link to build, but West Ruislip would suddenly lose its entire service. And does Uxbridge genuinely need to be the terminus of three different Underground lines?
» Metropolitan→Bakerloo at Northwick Park[map] Tarmac over one corner of the park and an interchange station would slip in here nicely. But it'd be less convenient for local residents, and would it be at all well used? Almost certainly a pipe dream.
» Hammersmith & City/Circle/Metropolitan→Northern/Victoria at Euston Square[map] Someone missed a trick not running a subway underneath the newly-redeveloped University College Hospital. This is a major interchange just waiting to happen, linking either to Euston or Warren Street, but alas at far too great a cost.
» District/Circle→Waterloo & City at Cannon Street[map] I know the Waterloo & City line sort-of links to the District line via Bank Monument, but wouldn't a less tortuous connection be better? Well, prayers answered. A new Walbrook exit from Bank is being constructed, with a street level link that's terribly close to Cannon Street station. Pedantic of Purley can tell you more.
» Central→Overground at Shoreditch High Street[map] The Overground's not strictly within the bounds of Tube Week, but this is such a glaringly obviously interchange anomaly I thought I'd include it anyway. The Central line passes almost directly underneath Shoreditch High Street station, and yet nobody made any attempt to connect the two. Excuse one, too expensive. Excuse two, it'd slow down Central line commuters too much. Excuse three, Central line trains are too crowded anyway. Excuse four, wait six years and Crossrail will link up with the Overground instead. Quite good excuses, then.
» Northern→Victoria at Vauxhall[maps] As I mentioned earlier in the week, the Battersea extension has been designed to link to absolutely no other rail lines. In complete contrast, the Victoria line and Jubilee line extension were both specifically designed to link up with as many rail lines as possible. How priorities change.
Tube quiz (43)New Street Below are the former names of 10 current tube stations, back when they were named after a nearby street. What are they called now? Pick from the dropdown list each time.
1) Euston Road 2) Gower Street 3) Dover Street 4) Praed Street 5) Queen's Road
Tube geek (43)Urban design
Thanks to the foresight of its management, the London Underground is blessed with a portfolio of outstanding architecture. That tradition continues today under the auspices of TfL's Urban Design Team, whose responsibilities cross all aspects of heritage and streetscape. They also have a rather fascinating website where some of the finer points of TfL design are explained. One section contains Design Guidance, including such delights as Signage and the customer journey and various Line Design Features. Another, larger, section is the Heritage Library. Here you can search all of the Underground's heritage stations, with aseparatepagedetailingeach. TfL looks after approximately 70 listed stations, which is about a quarter of all those on the network. Most of these are Grade II listed, but a handful rather more special than that...
Tubewatch (43)Mark Lane
Not all of central London's abandoned tube stations are deep-level showstoppers. Take, for example, Mark Lane on the District line. Named after a minor back road in the City, this lost station's rarely on anyone's radar. But if you know where to look, just to the west of Tower Hill station, all the signs are there.
The District Railway's had three different underground stations in the vicinity of the Tower of London, of which Mark Lane's the awkward middle child. The first was opened in 1882, called Tower of London, but that wasn't especially large and had to close two years later when the Circle line was first introduced. Mark Lane was built a few hundred yards to the west, close to All Hallows By The Tower. Architecturally speaking it was a fairly standard cut-and-cover station, rather like Temple today, with platforms not far below street level reached down simple staircases. Mark Lane survived the best part of the 20th century but eventually proved too small for the onslaught of city folk and tourists, and was closed in 1967. Its replacement was located on the precise site of the former Tower of London station, complete with additional central platform for reversing trains, and that's the one we know as Tower Hill today. Mark Lane's westbound platform was demolished to make way an extra track, but the eastbound platform remains intact, if rather worse for wear. Look carefully and you can see the platform out of the window of a passing train a short distance outside Tower Hill. Watch out for the moment when the tunnel wall disappears and a dark and gloomy recess takes its place. No passengers have been down here for 45 years, but TfL still use it for storage - including at present an infeasibly large pile of ladders.
There are further clues above ground, even though Mark Lane's original building's long demolished. In 1911 the station entrance was incorporated into an office block, which you can still see on the corner of Byward Street and Seething Lane. Scan along the row of arches at ground level, ignoring the grand central porch which is actually the doorway into the offices above. The station entrance was two arches to the left, beneath a long rectangular panel, inside what's now an All Bar One where tourists slurp beer. The arches on either side were occupied by a newsagent and a confectioners, with one of these now the entrance to a very ordinary-looking subway beneath the street. But it's not quite so ordinary-looking below ground. The walls are lined with painted iron girders, which are here because this was formerly the station footbridge. At each end is a floor-to-ceiling grille, and these mark the top of the staircases down to the westbound and eastbound platforms. You'll not see much, if anything, if you try peering through. But stand here long enough and you'll hear the rumble of trains on the tracks immediately below, loud as life. You'll get no closer to Mark Lane than this, unless you're one of those naughtyurbanadventurers who like trespassing on TfL property for kicks. That may not be recommended, but if you do ever sneak inside, pray nobody's peering at you from a passing carriage.
Tube quiz (42)AEIOU
Famously, the tube station Mansion House contains each of the vowels A, E, I, O and U. But it doesn't contain them once each, so it fails at today's quiz. Because today I'm asking you for the names of London Underground stations that contain the vowels A, E, I, O and U without repeats. There's one station that contains all five vowels once, and there are nine stations that contain four vowels once. How many can you find? 5 vowels, once each: ? 4 vowels, once each: ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Answers in the comments box and, please, only one guess each.
(n.b. Tube stations only please... the DLR and Overground don't count)
Planning permission permitting, the bulldozers are going in. This is at the the old Shoreditch station, just off Brick Lane, which closed to the public in 2006. It wasn't needed for the new Overground railway, and it had a pitifully low number of passengers, so the end of the line was severed and the ticket office building has lain neglected ever since. Over the years it's been gradually, then repeatedly, covered in graffiti, the latest incarnation being an all-black design with silver lettering. Despite its proximity to one of London's trendiest streets, the alleyway is no glamorous location - the Sunday Times described it as an "urban-pissoir-crack-den". And now the station's to be turned into flats. Who wouldn't want to live here? The latest plans are for a six storey building, downgraded from seven in the previous failed application. The ground floor will be an art or retail space, glass-walled, open to peering in. The next four floors will be flats, clad in perforated brick, nine in total, some with balconies large enough for "celebration dining". Down in the basement, where the train tracks used to terminate, will be a shared open garden and office space. And the top floor is potentially a bit special, described by the architects as a "community crown". It'll be constructed using bricks from the old station, with arches echoing the original 1876 building. It's hoped a charity will move into the meeting rooms up here, perhaps something local and music-related. The complete stacked-up building should therefore be a mix of old and modern, part-resembling the old station lifted into the sky. The Victorian Society are unimpressed, claiming that "loss of this building would be detrimental to the character of the conservation area." But if you want to complain you're too late, because the brief three week consultation window closed last week. If you've always wanted to live in a disused tube station (or above it, or under it, depending), this might be your chance. [photo 2] [plans]
The low level station at Crystal Palace was built for grander times. When the great glass exhibition moved here in 1854, a rail link was dug through the clay to provide access for hordes of Victorian pleasure seekers. They arrived into a majestic brick vault, with sixty-something steps to ascend up to park level, then out through a spacious ticket hall. Over the years that ticket hall fell into disrepair, so exit then had to be via a tortuous down-and-then-back-up-again labyrinth of stairs. A separate ticket hall annexe was added, designed to mimic the Crystal Palace, although that wasn't green, and it wasn't quite lovely. The end result was possibly London's most step-unfree station, which is not how TfL like to run a railway, so they initiated a refurbishment. They've removed the 20th century entrance and restored the original ticket hall to its former glories, and blimey the contrast is enormous. The new space is lofty, almost church-like, with white-painted surfaces and ornate green ironwork. It'd look nicer if one corner wasn't fenced off with ticket barriers, but needs must, and there's loads of room elsewhere. A cafe has opened up in the farthest anteroom, for all of those who prefer to use stations more for coffee than for trains. It's a proper independent cafe too, courtesy of Brown and Green who also have the franchise at Gipsy Hill up the line. Enjoy a flat white or chai latte, with a nice slice of cake thrown in, and maybe catch the train to Victoria later if you can be bothered. You'll still have to negotiate those sixty-something awkward steps to reach your train, but at least the start of your journey was a huge improvement. [ticket hall photo]
In just over two weeks time the London Overground becomes a proper orbital railway. One end of the new link is at Clapham Junction, currently served by trains from Willesden Junction, and soon to be served by trains from Peckham. This has required the opening up of a new platform, so that South London line trains have somewhere to terminate, and passengers have somewhere else to wait. Clapham Junction's loaded with platforms, seventeen in total, but it's still taken some effort to shoehorn more trains in. Concentrate now. The original platform one has been abandoned, now a short stumpy semi-overgrown side-channel. Alongside is the former platform two, which is where existing Overground services pull up, but which has been renamed platform one. And that's recently been extended to the southwest to create a new elongated space, the new platform two, where trains on the new southern link will terminate. New platform two is indented slightly by one trackswidth, allowing trains to arrive separately without crashing into each other (a bit Colchesteresque). What's been created here is an Overground island, long and thin, two trains long, where changing should be a doddle. It's not ready yet - there are still workmen bolting bits together and a wall dividing off new platform two beside the lift. But there are now additional stairs allowing for a swifter exit, both up and down, which'll be incredibly useful. It's already pretty damned busy here most of the time, because services on the West London Line don't run frequently enough to meet demand, so it'll be interesting to see if the new Overground link makes congestion better or worse. Starting 7:20am, Sunday 9th December. Be there, or be probably still asleep. [photo 2]
Around the post-Olympic Park
At the northern end of Westfield an ice rink has appeared where Santa's house was last year, and Santa's house has reappeared alongside the station. Stratford International has returned to being a woefully overstaffed nomansland, even though it's now finally been connected to the public road network. A new road has opened, unimaginitively named International Way, which I appeared to be the only person using at the weekend. It's five and a half years since I first saw a road sign pointing towards this station, and only post-Olympics is this unwanted link finally possible.
The best views of Olympic Central are still from Montfichet Road, the street on stilts snaking down to the railway. Look, the wings on the Aquatic Centre are coming down. It's a slow process, but the steep seats have now been exposed sufficiently to create a wind tunnel from one end to the other. All the wrap's been removed from the exterior of the Olympic Stadium, as it sits there waiting for someone, anyone, to finally decide what to do with it. And the Orbit, probably still a year and a half off taking its next paying customer, stands inert and useless above a grey desert. One day, honest, it'll be amazing again around here. That day remains some way off.
The sunlight rippling underneath the Greenway is as good as I've ever seen it, if sewage transference tubing can ever be deemed beautiful. Almost nobody's here, bar the occasional jogger and flurry of cyclists. The waterbus stop at Old Ford Lock lies empty, as it has done ever since Water Chariots went under, and there's no sign of any alternative provider nipping in to run a pleasureboat replacement. The lock itself is sealed off, pending off-season renovation, so the winter moorings just to the north are being well used. Woodsmoke belches from a small chimney aboard one characterful narrowboat, while well-wrapped diners on a pontoon across the river tuck into their fried breakfasts. There's still much to enjoy around here, even though the five ring circus has left town.
At White Post Lane the canoeists are out, fresh from the Eton Mission Rowing club, one group of four and one single sculler. I seem to remember there were once plans for Kings Yard alongside the Energy Centre to become an Olympic Museum once the Games were over, but I fear we can assume that's never going to happen. Again the outskirts of the Olympic Park beyond are blank, as are the entire interior hereabouts bar the permanent Copper Box. One particularly unnerving thing is the disappearance of the 500m-long strip of car parking along the opposite side of the fence. This was shoehorned into Olympic construction plans at the very last minute, despite the presence of a perfectly good multi-storey car park in the corner of the site, reputedly at the request of lazysod broadcasters NBC. Its 150 spaces were then barely used, and now there are diggers breaking them up because they were never meant to be here in the first place. If you're ever on a committee investigating London 2012 budgetary waste, I'd shine a torch here if I were you.
The project takes advantage of the railway bridge that already crosses here, ferrying the Overground between Clapham Junction and Imperial Wharf. Once there's one bridge in a particular location, logic has it, local residents are far less likely to object to the construction of another. Plus it'd be convenient to have the choice of foot, bike or rail to cross the river, especially when this is one of the busiest parts of the Overground and trains can be chocker.
The Chelsea Harbour side of the railway has pretty poor public access. The entire site is covered by a labyrinth of luxury apartments nestled around a central marina, and there's no way that would be an acceptable exit for cyclists. One main access road slinks round the back of the site, along the viaduct, but that's not exactly welcoming. "No vehicles except for loading and access." "In the interest of public safety Cycling, Skating and Rollerblading are not permitted." And on the road down to the riverfront "Taxis/Chauffeurs Only." I told you they were posh round here. Management really aren't going to want to make this the main way on and off a bridge.
Fortunately the footbridge is due to land on the opposite side of the railway viaduct, on the Imperial Wharf side. Unfortunately several large apartment blocks have been built along the waterfront, all with prestige views, entirely blocking the route to the road network beyond. There's a cut-through 300m upriver, but detouring that far would be annoying, plus cycling's persona non grata around here. The only viable access would be the direct route along the edge of the railway viaduct, except these are private gardens and they're gated shut at the far end. Residents would have to sacrifice their exterior space if this new bridge went ahead, and I'm not sure I can see that happening.
We appear to have entered an era when paying to get your brand's name on the map of London is deemed wholly acceptable. Britain's football stadia succumbed first, then we got an entertainment venue named after a mobile phone company, and most recently a cablecar named after a Middle Eastern airline. "It wouldn't get built otherwise," is the mantra, "don't you know there's a recession on?" The public gets something it can use, and a brand name is shoehorned into our everyday lives. Alternatively Londoners could pay £3 each to get this new bridge built, in the old fashioned way via fares and taxation, but you get stared at in a funny way if you suggest that these days.
It's fair to say that Roman Road isn't one of London's best known markets. Perhaps it ought to be, given its fashion-focus and longevity. But the market's lost its sparkle over the years, despite several attempts by the council to spruce it up. Its location isn't great either, holed up in a corner of Bow that's on the way to nowhere, unless you're local. You'd probably not think to come, nor be bothered to come even if you thought. So the traders got together and submitted their cause to the latest Government retail initiative, the Portas Pilot scheme... and promptly failed to become one of the 27 lucky winners.
I couldn't immediately spot Mary's upgrade, although playing spot the difference isn't easy when you're not a regular. I think the pink and white awnings were new, some of them at least, so there was now some coherence end-to-end. I walked on behind a woman on a scooter and a small dog in a winter coat, looking out for an element of abnormal class. Nothing, until I was right up the far end by St Stephen's Road. Here was a genuinely new experience, for E3 if not for London - half a dozen carts of street food. A beardy chef in a stripy apron called Burger Bear. A coffee cart doing proper 21st century caffeine. Two gents frying up eggs benedict, bacon and berry-topped French toast. And, in what's almost certainly a first for the Roman Road, an artisan bakery offering Madeleines, Florentines and Giant French Macarons ("two almond meringue discs filled with flavoured buttercream or chocolate ganache" "made by hand in small batches"). This may be normal in your corner of London but, trust me, it's a revelation round here.
And so ends diamond geezer's tenth annual tube week. I continue to be amazed by how much interactive interest the London Underground inspires, even amongst people who rarely or never use it, so thanks for all your 200+ comments. Maybe I'm finally running out of new tube-related stuff to write about, because this year I finally succumbed and wrote a tube week post about closed-down stations. But somehow I suspect not. Same time next year?
Tube geek (45) Chameleon stations
Tube quiz (45) Nice view
Tubewatch (45) Next-but-one train indicators
Here's the ticket hall at Mile End, with two small Next Train Indicators pinned up on the wall. If you stand here and watch them, left and right, they show the destinations of the next trains on the District/H&C and Central lines. But they only show these trains if they're two minutes away or more. Once the due time dips beneath two minutes they disappear off the list, as if to pretend these trains don't exist. For anyone down on the platform the Next Train Indicators are still ticking down "1 min" and then "stand back next train approaching". But someone at TfL HQ has deliberately programmed the ticket hall devices to conceal sub-2minute approaching trains, presumably for health and safety reasons. If the Next Train Indicators revealed that a train was only one minute away, they think we'd all run down the stairs and cause a nasty accident. But at Mile End it takes less than 30 seconds to walk down those stairs from the ticket hall to the platform. You'd have to have a serious mobility issue not to be able to get down those stairs in one minute, let alone two, so the two minute cut-off is essentially pointless. Indeed, many's the time I've checked the NTI and then walked down the stairs and straight onto a train which supposedly didn't exist. This is nannying, pure and simple, hiding useful information that we're not allowed to know.
Strange things happen on the Underground before six in the morning. Trains have to make their way from the depot to where they're needed, which for the Circle line means sending two trains into town from Barking. And so I set my alarm clock two hours earlier than usual to rendezvous with one of these secret services. Dawn was distant, the pavements were quiet, and Bow Road's ticket hall reeked from the smell of freshly applied paint. I wasn't alone on the platform, there were four of us and a bike. When the first westbound District line train arrived it was already half full, but I was waiting for the next train, heralded as "Not in Service". And in it rumbled, duly labelled "Circle line to Edgware Road" on the front, proving the rumours true. I wondered whether the train would stop, then I wondered whether the doors would open, and then I took my seat. Circle line from Bow Road, achievement unlocked.
Tube quiz (43) New Street
The District Railway's had three different underground stations in the vicinity of the Tower of London, of which Mark Lane's the awkward middle child. The first was opened in 1882, called Tower of London, but that wasn't especially large and had to close two years later when the Circle line was first introduced. Mark Lane was built a few hundred yards to the west, close to All Hallows By The Tower. Architecturally speaking it was a fairly standard cut-and-cover station, rather like Temple today, with platforms not far below street level reached down simple staircases. Mark Lane survived the best part of the 20th century but eventually proved too small for the onslaught of city folk and tourists, and was closed in 1967. Its replacement was located on the precise site of the former Tower of London station, complete with additional central platform for reversing trains, and that's the one we know as Tower Hill today. Mark Lane's westbound platform was demolished to make way an extra track, but the eastbound platform remains intact, if rather worse for wear. Look carefully and you can see the platform out of the window of a passing train a short distance outside Tower Hill. Watch out for the moment when the tunnel wall disappears and a dark and gloomy recess takes its place. No passengers have been down here for 45 years, but TfL still use it for storage - including at present an infeasibly large pile of ladders.
