Route 54: Woolwich to Elmers End Location: London southeast, outer Length of journey: 10 miles, 75 minutes
It's traditional around every birthday that I take a numerically significant bus journey, so here I go again. Twelve years ago I took the 42 to Dulwich, eleven years ago the 43 to Barnet, ten years ago the 44 to Tooting, nine years ago the 45 to Clapham, eight years ago the 46 to Farringdon, seven years ago the 47 to Bellingham, six years ago the 48 to Walthamstow, five years ago the 49 to Battersea, four years ago the 50 to Croydon, three years ago the 51 to Orpington, two years ago the 52 to Willesden and last year the 53 to Whitehall. This year, less climactically, it's the 54 to Elmers End.
Route 54 is a southeast London stalwart, conveying residents between Woolwich, Lewisham, Bromley and Croydon since time immemorial. But when the trams arrived in 2000, TfL decided people should use those instead, so chopped off the Croydon end of the route and cut it back to Elmers End. Here's a fuller history, if you like that kind of thing. But for birthday bus route purposes, what's more important is that the 54 exactly matches last year's route 53 for the first three miles and precisely parallels the 47 for another two miles later on. Rather than being annoyed by the overlap I've decided to cut and paste several sentences from those reports into this one, as a useful precedent for repeated reports of the Lea Bridge Road over the next couple of years.
The 54 cranks up opposite the boxy towers surrounding Woolwich's Crossrail station. This ought to have opened between my 53rd and 54th birthdays, but remains embarrassingly underfinished, much to the distress of certain local businesses. One of these is the food court in the former Public Market, whose streetfeast has proven unsustainable and this year the front doors are firmly locked. A young man with a clipboard is busy accosting passers-by with a survey about vocational courses. He looks at me but rushes straight by, twice, which I deduce is because I'm too old for what he's flogging, thereby instilling a downbeat demeanour even before I've boarded my birthday bus.
A 53 arrives first, taking the majority of the passengers, so when my 54 turns up the prized top deck front left seat is easily mine. Other passengers include ladies with copious groceries and a family concealing a big pink helium balloon inside a carrier bag, the recipient of which turns out to be half a century younger than I am. The first couple of stops are busy, one outside the DLR station and the other in the main square. Newcomers to the top deck include a woman who insists on reading out loud to her partner, loudly, a personal email about a recent job application. Much of central Woolwich is in flux, as peculiar glassy carbuncles erupt and bland flats erupt amid older brick-faced stock.
We soon reach the Royal Artillery Barracks, essentially a housing estate for the military, edged with barbed wire that's seen better days. On the opposite side of Wellington Street the railings are bedecked with floral tributes, union flags and (new since last year) plastic poppies, in commemoration of Lee Rigby. Our next destination is Charlton, passing first a closed pub, then a closed corner shop, then a pub closed but reopened as a corner shop. The 53 in front continues to pick up most of the passengers, but always manages to be indicating to pull out every time we catch up, so I'm repeatedly forced to stare at a reminder than I'm a year older than the last time I was here.
Just before Charlton Village we pick up a father and son in matching knitted woolly hats, who take the seat immediately behind mine and engage in awkward conversation. Son is about six, and obsessed with going to "the superstores" to buy some Mighty Beanz, repeatedly reassuring Dad that they only cost £3. Then he slips seamlessly into "Dad I just kicked somebody up the head and I splattered him." Dad stays silent. "I throwed him all the way up on the climbing frame, do you like it when I hit people and I smack them in the face?" Dad tells him to stop biting his nails, and goes back to his phone. The top deck smells of chips.
Just before we cross the deep gash of the A2 dual carriageway our 54 finally overtakes the 53 it's been trailing, and the underlying metaphor is not lost on me. At the Royal Standard the six year-old behind me spots a police car, and tells Dad he hopes they shoot his friend Joshua because he's a 'bad boy'. Dad continues to stay silent. "I'm only joking! I'm only joking!" he adds, then confounds things with "I'm not joking, it's for real." Dad gives him a video game to play, so I get to endure its plinky plonky music all the way across Blackheath. Lines of traffic mark out criss-crossing roads, dividing up the common into recreational segments.
Blackheath village is looking lovely, but is also a bottleneck so we get to spend a long time passing through. I spot a microbrewery, several boutiques, an acupuncture clinic and a cafe serving "toast with hand-shaped heritage whey butter". The Greggs in Tranquil Vale looks somewhat out of place. We follow a single decker 108 along Lee Terrace, where the Georgian villas are splendid and the spring blossom weeks ahead of time, as if my birthday has suddenly shifted into April. All hint of gentility is lost at the foot of Belmont Hill where we pass Bucketmouth - a kebab shop - then plough on towards what's left of Lewisham Market. Six year-old announces proudly that he's now hit 7000 points, but Dad tells him to shush because it's time to alight, and off they head in search of Magic Beanz.
The bus is considerably emptier now, its chief objective reached. Considerably fewer people are trying to travel away from the Lewisham Centre, but this may because tons of buses head south towards Catford so we're now one of many. A queue of double deckers feeds through a gap between Primark and an ambulance, initially aiming for Ladywell. One block of pastel-framed flats stands out, knocked up during the brief period when lemon, lime and Olympic pink were in vogue. Even at the weekend, the bus lane helps speed us on our way. Adverts on bus shelters advise all good citizens to check out gov.uk/euexit to help ensure that the end of the month goes more smoothly. Downstairs a baby relentlessly screams. The top deck smells of pancakes.
Rushey Green is wide enough to support a thin strip of lawn, holding back the tide of grocery shops, beauty salons and eateries. I spot a fine J Sainsbury ghostsign painted on the side wall of what's now a pawnbroker. Catford Shopping Centre's giant fibreglass feline waits to pounce as we head the wrong way round the gyratory, delivered via a bus lane located in the centre of the road. The Post Office apologises for being closed for two days due to a power upgrade. Catford's final retail outlet is a meze bar, beyond which we're back into desirable detached country on the long run down to Bellingham bus garage. This bus will wait here while the drivers change over. Of course it will.
On Bromley Road a birthday celebration is underway, with Dad tying balloons to the tree in the front garden while Mum pays the Uber Eats rider who's delivered their daughter's favourite meal in umpteen plastic tubs. All the neighbouring streets appear to boast smart semis, whereas we're running amid a stream of undistinguished flats. This part of town is called Southend (the swallowed Kent village, not the Essex resort), its tiny chapel and the adjacent millpond the only trace of a rural past. And at Peter Pan's Park (don't rush, it's no Neverneverland), we turn right and finally achieve singularity... the 54 is the only bus route along Beckenham Hill Road.
We've hit proper suburbia; whitewashed semis, Tudorbethan piles, a minor railway station to ferry commuters, a circular Catholic church resembling a crown, several sports pitches, shrubbery, a country park. Beckenham Place Park occupies a lengthy stretch on the left hand side of the road, its wall intermittently broken by welcoming notices. At the top of the climb the heights of Crystal Palace are visible in the gaps between some flats. A white magnolia tree fills one particular front garden with spring. A young woman is transferring her worldly middle class goods into the back of a Pickfords van. All this place is lacking is a golf course - they closed the local one in 2016.
A sudden Waitrose confirms we've reached Beckenham, a proper little town with surplus spending money. Anyone scanning its main streets would assume all its residents do is eat or drink. be that at the cafe bistro, brasserie or takeaway. Its former police station now serves cocktails, the ex fire station does hot towel shaves and the half-timbered Three Tuns pub has become a Zizzi. Six Nations, beer and pasta, anyone? I spot the famous milestone which declares London Bridge to be X miles away, a set of new raised beds sponsored by a shutter company, and blimey look, the churchyard at St George's has actual primroses actually in bloom.
We're nearly there. Our spin down the Croydon Road is enlivened by gas main repairs, temporary traffic lights and full-on cherry blossom sidestreets. The latest young child on the top deck is using her imagination to spot mice, lions and tigers on the pavement and point them out to Mummy. That shiny tin helmet displayed outside the This 'N' That bric-a-brac shop could prove useful. One final 1930s shopping parade draws us into Elmers End, where the pub looks like a Swiss chalet, and then we pull off into the so-called Interchange beside the tram stop. It's all a bit bleak, dwarfed by the unforgiving maelstrom of a doubledecker Tesco car park alongside. Only two of us remain to disembark, the tram connection having proved unpopular, and that's another year done and dusted.
You don't get a birthday on a Saturday very often. This is my 8th, and I'm unlikely to see twelve.
Saturday 9th March 1968 (age 3): I don't remember this one, or at least I think I don't. My very earliest memory is of a birthday party in the back room at home, but it might not have been this one, and it might actually have been my brother's, and it's perfectly possible I'm entirely wrong in my perception. Whatever, my Mum would definitely have made sandwiches, cheesy cubes and sausages, possibly on sticks, and there would have been a cake topped off with a blue plastic number '3' holding three candles.
6 year gap Saturday 9th March 1974 (age 9): This was just before we moved house, so my last birthday before I got a bedroom of my own. I don't know what I did in the morning, but BBC1 was showing Mary, Mungo and Midge, Josie and the Pussycats and Casey Jones, so they may have featured. Later in the evening Doctor Who was fighting the Daleks, but I probably missed that episode because a birthday tea with carefully-invited friends would have taken precedence. What I do remember is that in the evening we went out to see Captain Pugwash, a swashbuckling musical show for kids in central Watford, either at the Palace Theatre or the Town Hall Assembly Rooms, and I thank my parents for their forbearance.
11 year gap Saturday 9th March 1985 (age 20): I was at university for this birthday, living out, and passed from teenagerdom at midnight while playing Frogger on the in-house BBC Micro. Altogether I received 23 birthday cards, the envelope from my grandmother having to be retrieved from a wrongly-addressed house up the road. Amongst the day's treats were putting the bins out, going to Tesco to buy Creme Eggs and tackling the prize alphabetical jigsaw in the paper. In the early evening I was treated to a new Doctor Who episode, except it was Timelash, widely regarded as one of the worst stories ever broadcast. And then a large group of students went out for my birthday meal at the restaurant above Debenhams, where I had a cheeseburger (because I didn't fancy going Italian) followed by chocolate profiteroles. The bill came to just over five pounds each, including the bottle of wine they almost forgot to charge us for. I decided to skip the collective invitation to watch to late night films at the arthouse cinema, and headed home alone.
6 year gap Saturday 9th March 1991 (age 26): I was woken by my Mum, who wanted to open her birthday cards, so I quickly scribbled in hers and crossed the landing to join the rest of the family. My gift to her was a chopping board, and her gift to me was a cross stitch tapestry of Windsor Castle. I spent the morning eating bacon sandwiches and watching Going Live, then lunch involved eating battered corned beef and enduring Saint and Greavsie. I spent the afternoon stapling the Red Nose Day project that'd get me onto the front cover of the local paper, and climbing up into the loft to retrieve boxes of readymade nostalgia. In the evening the whole family went out to a Beefeater for a joint birthday treat, where I enjoyed soup, steak and profiteroles, and the bill came to £49.95. Back home we played some of the now-embarrassing cassettes my parents had recorded of my brother and I when we were very young, and somehow ended up discussing the music we wanted played at our funerals.
5 year gap Saturday 9th March 1996 (age 31): Arrived home very late, after our team came first at the annual workplace quiz night. Woke up early to open not many cards, one of which (embarrassingly) was from a unreciprocated secret admirer. Then took the coach to Cambridge and the train to Norfolk where I was picked up by my eighteen-month old nephew and his parents. Wished Mum a happy 61st. Her brother and sister and their respective families turned up for lunch, which was serve-yourself chicken, and obviously I picked lemon meringue pie from the selection of four puddings. For reasons I do not remember, one of my presents was a kettle. Spent the afternoon being amused by the under-2s and not going for a walk because it was raining. Nobody felt hungry enough to eat much birthday cake, relations gradually drifted away, and I ended the day watching a video of Gina G winning last night's Song For Europe.
6 year gap Saturday 9th March 2002 (age 37): I kicked off my 37th standing in the coat queue of a well known London nightclub. My birthday was toasted with plastic bottles of Smirnoff Ice and a floorful of nostalgic tunes, until at 3am I was aghast to discover I'd lost my coat check ticket. Thankfully they handed back my jacket anyway. Got the nightbus home. After not enough sleep I urgently tidied the flat, dashed to the dry cleaners and then went to meet my parents at Stratford station. This year's swapped gifts were candles for my Mum and another cross-stitch tapestry for my collection. It was then time to meet up with my Dad's side of the family and go for lunch at Garfunkels. We had a booking on the London Eye at three, which was the last thing I ever thought my Mum could be persuaded to do but she coped just fine. Afterwards we headed downriver to walk across the Millennium Bridge (ditto), then tubed back to my flat where Dad hung some curtains. And once everyone else eventually left, BestMate drove round and I ended my 37th birthday on the threshold of another London nightclub. Cheers!
11 year gap Saturday 9th March 2013 (age 48): The thing to do when you haven't had a birthday on a Saturday for ages is take a day trip to France. That meant an alarm clock set for 4, a nightbus at 5 and squinting to read my seat number aboard Eurostar at 6. London was grey, cold and wet, but Paris thankfully proved mild, dry and sunny. First stop was the Eiffel Tower, before the queues got too long, walking up to the 2ème étage for €5. My second destination was Père Lachaise cemetery, to track down Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde, plus as an excuse to ride the 3bis. Next I went to the Musée d'Orsay to enjoy the impressionists, then did a lot of cross-city flâneuring until it was time to get the late train home. I was very impressed when the customs officer checking passports wished me a happy birthday. But you know most of this already, because this is my one Saturday birthday since I started blogging.
6 year gap Saturday 9th March 2019 (age 54): tbc
5 year gap Saturday 9th March 2024 (age 59): A five year gap is the shortest possible (and comes round every 28 years). At least I still get to be in my fifties for this one.
6 year gap Saturday 9th March 2030 (age 65): Here's my tenth Saturday birthday, fingers crossed. When I was younger, this was the day I was due to receive my state pension and become old. It is no longer either of those things.
11 year gap Saturday 9th March 2041 (age 76): An eleven year gap is the longest possible (and comes round every 28 years). 6+5+6+11=28, and repeat.
6 year gap Saturday 9th March 2047 (age 82): I'm not due to reach this one. I checked on an actuarial website, and the average life expectancy of a 54 year-old man in 2019 is 81 years 7 months. Even tweaking all the additional risk factors (never smoked, doesn't over-drink, not especially overweight, walks quite a bit) doesn't yank the calculated estimate past my 82nd birthday. That doesn't mean I won't reach it, of course, but it does put the probability below 50/50 so it's more than likely I won't. Never try this kind of calculation yourself, especially on your birthday, because it's mildly depressing.
5 year gap Saturday 9th March 2052 (age 87): Ahh.
6 year gap Saturday 9th March 2058 (age 93): Hmmm.
11 year gap Saturday 9th March 2069 (age 104): Nah.
I'm planning a day out every Thursday this month, with each trip further than the last. Starting here...
Gadabout: BRACKNELL
When Oscar Wilde named his most famous character after Bracknell, it was a small Berkshire market town. In 1948 it was selected as one of the first postwar New Towns, thanks to a convenient railway station and an abundance of poor quality agricultural land. Today it has a population of over eighty thousand, strung across thickly wooded residential neighbourhoods surrounding a twice-rebuilt core. It's not unpleasant. Here are ten places of interest I tracked down yesterday. Hang on in there for the last one. [9 photos]
The Lexicon
Bracknell's original town centre was erased in the 1950s and replaced by a Brutalistheart. You might have liked it. But the appeal of the concrete walkways faded, and shoppers started preferring trips to Reading, so the council moved in with a brave redevelopment plan. Much of the town centre was demolished, making the retail offering temporarily worse, and reopened in 2017 as a sprawling outdoor mall called The Lexicon. It's now very much the kind of place that people who like shopping like - a gamble won. The council thus have their eyes on surrounding blocks, including the bus station, a former department store and the entirety of the CivicSquare, so come quickly if concrete is your thing.
The Bull
A tiny handful of properly old buildings have survived double redevelopment, and now sit incongruously amid a landscape of chainstores, restaurants and office blocks. One of these is a 14th century pub called The Bull, which looks fabulous until you spot the hideous glass restaurant extension grafted on at the rear. Alongside the ring road is a Tudor manorhouse with a priest hole, currently a Wetherspoons. I also spotted a half-timbered smokehouse grill, an isolated cottage inhabited by estate agents and the old parish church, but my word, playing Spot The Old Building is hard. If you ever visit Bracknell, award yourself 100 points every time you spot a building over 100 years old, and 500 points if you ever spot two such buildings next to each other. I scraped 1000 only by trawling the suburbs.
Weather Way
Until 2003 the Met Office was based in Bracknell, after which they scarpered to Exeter to give a less prosperous region a chance. Today the only reminders they were ever here are the Met Office Roundabout alongside and the delightfully named Weather Way (which now serves a dead end car park and nothing much else).
Bill Hill
When you're a new town you cling to your ancienthistory, so Bracknell makes a big deal of its midtown Bronze Age barrow. This can be found atop Bill Hill, a minor knoll surrounded by housing beyond the dual carriageway, although most of the earthworks have collapsed and visitors have to rely on several wooden sculptures and an information board for vintage presence.
Easthampstead
This village was once the dominant settlement, so much so that the Bracknell area remained part of Easthampstead Rural District until 1974. Now entirely swallowed, its oldest building is the parish church of St Michael & St Mary Magdalene which has five sets of Edward-Burne-Jones stained glass windows within and a 1000-year old yew tree without. The only taller building is Point Royal, a seventeen storey hexagonal block of flats completed in 1964, and "one of the most distinctive architectural features in any of the English New Towns". Percy Shelley rented a cottage on Reed's Hill for few months, his blue plaque my most serendipitous stumble of the day.
Great Hollands/Crown Wood/Birch Hill/etc
Bracknell has many residential neighbourhoods, each spacious and green, linked by spine roads and a separate network of pedestrian cycleways. Houses are varied, generally desirable without being exclusive, including three bedroomers for prices that'd get you nothing in the capital. The neighbourhood shopping parade invariably contains a fish and chip shop, and probably an architecturally misjudged pub, and always a decent sized car park. Planners enjoyed giving individual cul-de-sacs one-word names, with almost 100 of these arranged alphabetically clockwise around Ringmead.
South Hill Park
The town's largest (and best-landscaped) park can be found in Birch Hill, and was formerly the private estate of South Hill Parkmansion. Built in 1760, its most famous wealthy resident was Prime Minister George Canning. Today it acts as Bracknell's arts centre, with studio and gallery space, a sculpture trail, a well-frequented cafe and the Wilde Theatre (whose first play in 1984 was obviously The Importance Of Being Earnest). Very nicely done.
Swinley Forest
Much of Bracknell was once forest, but a line was drawn south of Nine Mile Ride, beyond which an enormous area of woodland has been preserved. This is Swinley Forest, four square miles of Crown Estate at the southwest tip of Windsor Great Park. One small corner contains a Go Ape attraction, plus child-friendly science hub and tourist information centre, called The Lookout. But the remainder is magnificent pine and birch forest, commercially run, but threaded through with walking tracks and mountain bike trails. In no time I was out in the middle of nowhere, revelling in the vertical landscape, and top marks to the Queen for allowing her subjects full access.
Caesar's Camp
It's badly named. We now know this huge hillfort on the edge of Swinley Forest is of Iron Age origin, but in the 18th century it was thought to be Roman because only they'd've had the skill to build it. An oakleaf-shaped rampart surrounds 18 acres of gorse-covered heath, once defended by our ancestors, now a brief footpath away from the outer suburbs. I had it entirely to myself, because that's Thursdays for you.
Picket Post Close, Martins Heron
You'll know this street, because it was used for the openingscenes of the very first Harry Potter film. The Dursleys lived at number 4 Privet Drive, which in reality is number 12 Picket Post Close, an otherwise insignificant cul-de-sac on the eastern edge of Bracknell close to a Tesco superstore. I followed in Dumbledore's footsteps round a short bend to a run of four identical brick townhouses, with Harry's lodgings being the last before a larger mock Tudor neighbour. One of the green bins fell over as I approached, which was likely the wind but might just have been magic. For all subsequent films the producers used a filmset on their Leavesden backlot, this being cheaper than paying residents for the inconvenience. I bet they're still sick of inquisitive daytrippers. Sorry.
50 years ago today, on Friday 7th March 1969, the Victoria line was officially opened. It had been running along a shorter stretch of line from Walthamstow Central to Warren Street since December 1968, but this was the day it finally reached Victoria. It was also the day the Queen opened it, naming it after her great-great-grandmother and going for a ride. Getting the Victoria line built proved a financial and engineering struggle, but taking the modern approach proved a blinding success and today London'd be lost without it.
A (very) quick history: Plans to link Victoria and Finsbury Park by tube first emerged in 1937, identifying a need to link mainline stations and provide an alternative to the busy Piccadilly and Northern lines. It took years to settle what the northern terminus of the line should be, with early suggestions including Chingford, Enfield, Cuffley and Waltham Cross, while possible southern destinations included Morden and Croydon. Lack of funding cut back these more adventurous schemes to a Walthamstow-Victoria core, which was tabled in Parliament in 1954 and finally got the go-ahead in 1962. A southbound extension to Brixton was agreed in 1965, and fully completed in 1972. To read more than four sentences on this subject, try here, here or here.
Fifty years ago today: At the start of service the extension wasn't open. Mid-morning the Queen set out by car from Buckingham Palace to Green Park station. Here she bought a fivepence ticket from a machine, used it to pass through the automatic ticket gates and took the escalator down to the platform. At 11am she stepped into the driver's cab for a one-stop ride to Oxford Circus, pressing the button herself to set the train in motion. Also aboard the Royal Tube train were a large number of official guests, including the heads of a number of overseas transport organisations. At Oxford Circus Her Majesty switched to a seat in one of the carriages and travelled back through Green Park to Victoria. If the line had been built straight her journey would have passed directly underneath Buckingham Palace, but it deliberately wasn't. At Victoria the Queen unveiled a plaque, smiled graciously and was then driven home to Buckingham Palace. The public were allowed aboard the new railway from 3pm. [Pathé news report]
The Queen's first tube ride: St James's Park → Charing Cross → Tottenham Court Road (15 May 1939) The Queen's second tube ride: Green Park → Oxford Circus → Victoria (7th March 1969) The Queen's third tube ride: Hatton Cross → Heathrow Central (16th December 1977)
Victoria line trivia 1: The 'Victoria' name was chosen in 1955, before which the line was known as Route C. Other suggestions were Walvic (Walthamstow–Victoria), Viking (Victoria–King's Cross), Mayfair and West End. Victoria line trivia 2: A key part of the scheme was to provide easy interchange along the entire route, hence every station but one is served by either National Rail or another Underground line. Victoria line trivia 3: The laid-back grey and light blue colour scheme was devised by a consultancy firm called The Design Research Unit, whose view was that dynamism would be provided by the people and adverts. Victoria line trivia 4: The entire line is underground, apart from the staff-only connection to the depot at Northumberland Park. Victoria line trivia 5: Victoria line tunnels are a bit bigger than their Edwardian counterparts, allowing Victoria line trains to be 4cm wider than those on the Piccadilly, Northern, Jubilee, Bakerloo or Central. Victoria line trivia 6: The latest Victoria line trains seat 324, and have an official passenger capacity of 864. Victoria line trivia 7: Although not the busiest tube line, the Victoria line is by far the most intensively used. Victoria line trivia 8: Trains now run just 100 seconds apart at peak times - that's 36 trains per hour. Daytime frequencies are generally 26tph, but 30tph on Saturday afternoons. Victoria line trivia 9: Across the tube network, only the Waterloo & City line is shorter. Victoria line trivia 10: If you fancy 1hr 40 minutes of Victoria line construction documentaries, this link will keep you occupied.
VICTORIA
Opened: 7th March 1969 Originally opened: 24 December 1868 Mainline station opened: 1 October 1860 Interchange with: District and Circle lines, plus mainline services to Kent and Sussex Tile pattern: Showing minimum imagination, but maximum artistry, the silhouette ofQueen Victoria was designed by Edward Bawden.
Nearby development: A mighty amount of redevelopment has taken place around Victoria this century, starting off with Cardinal Place and continuing with Nova, Verde and other shiny spiky office behemoths. Even now the area still resembles a building site, the big hole beside the Victoria Palace Theatre a case in point, and every time I'm forced to dodge across the bus station I wonder if it'll ever be finished. Station development: The first underground station served the District Railway and opened on Victoria Street. For the next 100 years there was no direct connection to central London, which proved increasingly awkward. For the opening of the Victoria line a new subterranean ticket hall was opened between the District line station and the mainline station, with escalators down to the platforms. The 43m foot tunnel connecting the two ticket halls is a 1990s construction. Eventual overcrowding required the building of an additional main entrance beside Cardinal Place (opened 2017) and an extension to the southern ticket hall (opened 2018). Step-free access is now available throughout. Plaques: The plaque the Queen unveiled fifty years ago has been moved to the foot of the Wilton Road staircase. A brand new plaque has appeared this month, commemorating 150 years of the District line, 50 years of the Victoria line and "the recent station upgrade project", although in reality it's more a sheet of paper in a plastic picture frame because there isn't the money to spend on artisan chiselling these days.
Station layout: Never especially easy to fathom, and lately much worse. The additional tunnels threaded through to Cardinal Place serve mainly to divert and deviate, and travellers following official signage often pay a time penalty for their obedience. I think my best advice is never to follow any sign depicting a lift unless you need one. [pre-2017 map][post-2017 map] One-way system: Having given the newly enlarged station a few months to bed down, TfL are taking advantage of fresh connections by closing the Victoria line escalators for repair. A one-way system kicked off a couple of weeks ago, and will continue until summer next year, affecting anyone attempting interchange with or access to the Victoria line. I attempted the trek from the southern ticket hall to the Victoria line platforms and was directed by signs and staff along a sinuous foot tunnel, then sharp left to the shorter escalators usually used for District line access. It only took two minutes in the middle of a weekday, but if this is your regular commute for the next 16 months my sympathies.
Down below: You know what a Victoria line platform looks like by now. One extra thing to look out for here is the black and blue tiling of Design Work Leisure, an Art On The Underground project we last met at Blackhorse Road. Inbetween: The concourse between the platforms is divided into two distinct parts, one of which (normally) leads to the southern ticket hall. The other half has two sets of facing escalators, one to the District line (in the centre of the platforms) and the other to Cardinal Place. One consequence of the odd spacing is that "Please Pass Along The Platform" signs are needed to spread passengers away from the point of entry.
Factnugget: Victoria was the southern terminus of the Victoria line for 868 days... so see you back here in July 2021. Some photos: Twelve, here. All the photos: Ninety-two, here (or slideshow here).
50 years ago tomorrow, on Friday 7th March 1969, the third section of the Victoria line slipped into service. Six months earlier the first section from Walthamstow Central to Highbury & Islington had opened, and in December the line had extended three stations further south, temporarily terminating at Warren Street. Pressing on through Oxford Circus and Green Park to its namesake Victoria stretched the new line across central London, making fresh connections that changed the way Londoners travel. But it'd be another two years until the last push down to Brixton, and another three until the Victoria line was finally complete.
So today I'm continuing my journey down the line, station by station, to see how this cutting-edge forward-thinking initiative is looking fifty years on. If nothing else, it'll be a useful reminder that major transport projects delivered way behind schedule are nothing new, and generally come good in the end.
OXFORD CIRCUS
Opened: 7th March 1969 Originally opened: 30 July 1900 Interchange with: Bakerloo line and Central line Tile pattern: Every Victoria line station has its own bespoke mural in the alcoves on the platforms above the benches. Oxford Circus's design is by Hans Unger and depicts interchange with the Bakerloo and Central lines. This is a reinstatement of the original design, returned in 2009, prior to which a snakes and ladders motif had appeared instead. A larger version of the design appears in the ticket hall. Alas no tiles are present on the northbound Victoria line platform because this was severely damaged by fire in 1984, after which vitreous enamel cladding was introduced to cover the walls, losing the seat recesses and motif.
Architecture: Head to the top of Argyll Street to see the station's original entrances. The Central London Railway building arrived first, with a terracotta entrance by Harry Bell Measures, while the oxblood Bakerloo line building opposite is a classic Leslie Green structure. It's still called Oxford Circus House, and ground floor attractions include a currency exchange kiosk and a tourist-baiting Angus Steak House. A new entrance was needed when the Victoria line opened, so a temporary steel 'umbrella' was built above the main Oxford Circus junction and a new ticket hall excavated underneath. Construction took five years. Health and safety gone mad: The digital nameboards above each entrance staircase display the station name for one second, then the scrolling warning "Caution Floor And Steps May Be Slippery When Wet" for nine seconds, even if it hasn't been raining. Nearby development: Oxford Circus has resisted major redevelopment of late, even fending off part-pedestrianisation, although a lot of the street frontage is but a heritage veneer.
Station layout: Quite the rabbit warren, with separate threaded passageways for entering and exiting. To get your head around how it works, the Central line platforms are the lowest, while the Bakerloo and Victoria line platforms are coupled together a bit higher up. The northbound Victoria line platform was dug beside the northbound Bakerloo line platform, with a new passenger concourse inbetween making northbound interchange quick and simple. Southbound connections were designed exactly the same way. Crossing between northbound and southbound is less simple, however, achieved via narrow passageways which wend over the top of the Bakerloo line. [map][map][map]
Down below: The two Victoria line platforms have contrasting designs, courtesy of the aforementioned fire, not that I expect most passengers have noticed. Southbound is 60s original, with grey tiles and wooden benches, but northbound is somewhat more bland with bog-standard metal seats. These are both particularly busy places, hence the provision of nine platform exit passageways on the southbound platform and eight on the northbound. At present the entire advertising collateral on the northbound platform wall has been bought up by a single marketing campaign for Australian hair products, not just the posters but also the digital adverts projected during the brief pauses when no train is in the station. Next train indicators: Both platforms have two of these, but additional dangling infrastructure makes them hard to read from certain areas. On the northbound it's impossible to identify the next train if standing alongside the front carriage, and impossible to read the time until the next train from alongside the second. Bulky ventilation units suspended from the ceiling are to blame. On the southbound it's impossible to identify the next train if standing alongside the rear three carriages, thanks to a Way Out sign, while a tiny panel designed to indicate the location of the nearest help point has been thoughtlessly hung at a height where it can cause the greatest concealment.
Factnugget: That 1984 fire on the northbound platform, which occurred during renovation works, led to a network-wide ban on smoking on all subsurface platforms. Some photos: Seven, here.
GREEN PARK
Opened: 7th March 1969 Originally opened: 15 December 1906 Previously known as Dover Street (until 1933) Interchange with: Piccadilly and Jubilee lines Tile pattern: Green Park's design is again by Hans Unger and depicts trees from nearby Green Park viewed from above. Tiles on the Jubilee line platforms show individual falling leaves.
Station development:Green Park is the station where the Underground's two most-recently-constructed lines meet, so has seen two major reconfigurations during its history. The original Piccadilly line station had lifts emerging in Dover Street, but a 1930s upgrade saw the construction of a new ticket hall under Piccadilly linked by (very long) escalators. Construction of the Victoria line saw the ticket hall upgraded, a separate escalator connection added and a (short) passageway burrowed between the two lines at platform level. Construction of the Jubilee line in the 1970s required a further double-escalator descent, plus a shortpassageway to the Victoria line and a footsloggingly long passageway to the Piccadilly. If trying to change lines here, passengers heading to/from the Victoria line get the better deal. [map] Architecture: Ever since the closure of the Dover Street entrance there's been very little to see at ground level, just a couple of staircases disappearing underground past a branch of M&S Food. However in readiness for the Olympics in 2012 Green Park was selected as the one central London station worthy of a step-free upgrade, so a striking new entrance was constructed on the southern side of Piccadilly. Level access was constructed from Green Park itself, funnelled between earth embankments, while a long shelter with Portland Stone cladding topped things off at street level. This features an artwork by John Maine called Sea Strata incorporating depictions of the fossils which formed in the limestone 150 million years ago. Ahem: The poster above the Sea Strata plaque incorrectly states that TfL Rail will become part of the Elizabeth line in December 2018.
Down below: Green Park's Victoria line platforms look pretty much like the Victoria line's other platforms. Both have raised central sections to aid level access. The southbound platform is noticeably less brightly illuminated than the northbound. In the concourse between, the single digit on the sign pointing towards "Victoria line northbound platform 3" has been written in blue pen and stuck on top of whatever number it used to say underneath. Vinyl maps: Last December TfL covered over the vinyl tube maps on both platforms with heritage posters. The heritage poster on the southbound platform remains, but the northbound poster has been replaced with a fresh vinyl map (despite the fact that another tube map exists further down the platform).
Peoplewatching: Because Victoria line trains are so frequent, there's rarely any need for passengers to spend more than two minutes here. They feed in from the Piccadilly line and lifts at one end, the Jubilee line at the other end or the main escalators in the centre, congregating until the next train rushes in. This disgorges hordes onto the platform who either know where they're going or linger briefly to work out where to head. Various streams file off to the various exits, with tourists bringing up the rear, and then the platforms return to passenger-accumulation mode as the next glare of halogen headlights appears in the tunnel.
Factnugget: The loo-oong passageway between the Piccadilly and Jubilee lines has more blue tiles at the Piccadilly end and more grey tiles at the Jubilee end. Victoria line passengers should never need to use it. Some photos: Nine, here.
Local journalism is in decline, so I've picked up the baton.
Here's the very latest news from our local street.
BOW ROAD NEWS
Barclays to close bank on Bow Road
Barclays have announced that their bank at 92 Bow Road is to close. Doors will shut at 4.30pm on Friday 7th June, after which customers will have to bank online or elsewhere. The Nat West across the road also closed in 2017, hence in three months time there'll be no banks anywhere along Bow Road.
A Barclays spokesperson admitted that the number of transactions at the Bow Road branch had increased over the previous 24 months, with the number of cash deposits rising by 15%. "However 87% of our branch customers also use other ways to do their banking such as online and by telephone," she said. "Also we've calculated that 51% of this branch's customers also use neighbouring branches, so we're pressing ahead and closing it anyway." Over 4500 regular customers will be inconvenienced.
"I've been coming here for years, even though it's a bit grim inside," said one customer who refused to give their name. "Now I'll have to travel to the Barclays 0.7 miles away on Roman Road, or the Barclays 1.3 miles away in Poplar, or the Barclays 1.6 miles away in Stratford, at least until they close those down too. I know people in other parts of the country would kill to have an alternative bank within one mile, but it's a sad day for Bow Road and no mistake."
Hotel speculation
Barclays Bank is located immediately alongside the City Stay Hotel, whose most famous Russian guests checked out exactly one year ago. There has been speculation that the hotel's owners might want to buy up the empty bank premises and knock through, but this has yet to be confirmed.
Mosque Opens New Sweet Shop
Worshippers at Bow Central Mosque now have the added opportunity of shopping before or after their daily worship. That's because Tijarah Tours and Sweets has opened in what used to be one of the downstairs rooms, offering money transfer, air tickets, passport services and sweets.
In an age of online travel, local residents can now drop in after prayers for friendly advice on travelling abroad whilst buying Haribo-style confectionery. The number of destinations is somewhat limited, with pilgrimages a speciality, but the variety of sweets available in store is particularly extensive. The owners have also set their sights on becoming Bow Road's go-to repository for Fed Ex packages, delivered with a smile and a friendly sugar high. Why not visit before Jumu'ah and see for yourself?
ANCHOR'S AWAY
Residents on the Bow Bridge Estate have found themselves overlooking a demolition site as what used to be Jolles House is reduced to rubble. Poplar Harca plan to build 70 residential units, 96% of which will be affordable, on the site of a block of flats, a basketball court and a Victorian pub. Demolition of the pub, which has been derelict for several years, has not yet begun.
The Blue Anchor pub was built in the 19th century and is one of the last surviving heritage assets on Bromley High Street. A council planning officer said "The Blue Anchor has been renovated and altered over time and has limited historic fabric remaining. The demolition of the pub is considered acceptable given the benefits of the proposed scheme and the quality of the replacement buildings."
Former regular Percy Baxter, 82, said "I've had many a happy night in the Blue Anchor, but now it's being turned into flats which'll look like every other new development in London. Admittedly I've been living in Romford for the last thirty years, so heaven knows who was still drinking there at last orders, but it'll be criminal to see that empty boozer destroyed."
Legible London Minilith Repaired
After months of local despair, the enamel map outside Bow Police Station has been repaired. Local youths sadly smashed the top and bottom panels months ago, leaving two useless holes through the middle of the pillar. But now the council or TfL or whoever's job it is to repair these things has finally come along with replacements, and visitors can once again negotiate their way around the surrounding streets.
Local campaigner May Dupname, 62, said "This sign has been an eyesore ever since it was destroyed by mindless thugs. I had given up all hope of it ever being repaired, what with austerity and everything, because these things can't be cheap. But it just goes to show that mindless pessimism is sometimes wrong. I just hope the new panels are properly vandalproof."
Other Commercial News
• The entire car lot at Enterprise Car Rentals has been demolished. In the 1960s this stretch of Bow Road was the site of the Kray Brothers famous Double R Club. The business continues to trade around the corner in Paton Close and will return once works are complete. A new portakabin is to be built, reorienting the site with a new pedestrian entrance on Bow Road.
• The Bow Pizza and Grill, whose underwhelming carb options were squeezed into an arch under the railway line, has closed down. However feet and cleaning materials have been spotted under the shutters, so expect some kind of deep-fried rebirth.
• Meanwhile at 163 Bow Road, internal reorganisation at the former Kebabish continues unabated. Workmen have been busy inside shifting counters, tweaking plumbing and slotting in new electrics, in readiness for a marginally-fresh venture which it's just been revealed will be called the Myra Grill.
Portaloo Departs Bus Stop Bypass Roadworks
Disruption at Bus Stop M opposite Bow Church may be coming to an end, as a contractor has turned up to take the Davlav portaloo away. Removing the blue plastic cubicle proved somewhat problematic as it was briefly abandoned in the middle of the new mini zebra crossing, then dragged slowly down the cycle superhighway towards the back of a truck. No more than one cyclist was inconvenienced by the convenience.
Although it might appear that workmen have been doing bugger all for the last week, tweaking a teensy bit of kerb and eating sandwiches, the temporary yellow covers at the entrance to the bypass conceal considerable digging and a deep square shaft. Possession of the site lasts for one more day, after which piles of signs, slabs and equipment will need to be carted away. Alas it appears that only half of the bus stop bypass will have been converted by this time, and that the rear island will be left with its original kerbstones and less prominent tactile paving, possibly forever.
Noon update: Unexpectedly on Day Six a bunch of additional workmen have arrived and are attacking the central hump with drills. Now reduced to irregular chunks, all the tarmac is being lobbed into the back of a truck and piled up ready for disposal. Today's workers have no portaloo facility.
2pm update: A new tarmac hump is being laid, longer than before, to create broader public access between pavement and bus stop. Much mini-steamrollering is occurring. The extended ramp has entirely covered a former drain in the cycle superhighway, which explains the extra guttering and additional sinkhole one metre distant which the workforce spent so many hours constructing.
4pm update: The workmen have packed away most of their equipment and left. Cyclists are already whizzing over the freshly-laid tarmac hump. It has not yet been painted, so has no markings and does not resemble a mini zebra crossing. No work has taken place on the ramp leading to the other half of the island. Bus Stop M is open again, and should stay that way.
This is London's most average bus stop, geographically speaking.
It's on Lambeth Palace Road, between St Thomas' Hospital and Lambeth Palace. It's served by northbound buses on routes 77, 507 and C10. It's just across the River Thames from the Houses of Parliament. If you take the location of every London bus stop, then average out all the x-coordinates and all the y-coordinates, this is where you end up.
As central London goes, it's pretty damned central. There's a good reason for this, which is that bus stops are fairly evenly distributed across the capital, buses being the go-everywhere means of public transport.
And I'm fairly confident this is the right spot because TfL recently released a database of all London bus stops and their GPS coordinates. I'vehadsomefun with previous versions of this spreadsheet, but this time I thought I'd calculate the average location. I disregarded bus stands, hail and ride sections and other superfluous data, and juggled the remaining sixteen thousand grid references, ending up with 530630 east and 179351 north.
London's most average bus stop: ST THOMAS' HOSPITAL/EVELINA LONDON Exact spot: Lambeth Palace Road (530630, 179351) [map]
So that's interesting. Even better, the FoI request which released this information also included a separate datafile for the official locations of tube stations and other TfL modes of transport. So let's have some fun with that.
London's most average tube station: ST JOHN'S WOOD Exact spot: St Johns Wood Park (526735, 183721) [map]
This one might surprise you, because it's not in central London. If you average out the locations of all 270 tube stations you end up in Zone 2, a mile beyond the Circle line, roughly halfway between St John's Wood and Swiss Cottage stations. The precise point is bang on the boundary between Westminster and Camden, further north than Regent's Park, a bit to the west of Primrose Hill. Intriguingly it's very close to the disused tube station at Marlborough Road, but we can't count that because it's been closed for 80 years so it's not in the dataset.
And the reason for this out-of-town location is that London's tube stations have a distinct north and west London slant. A paltry number of tube stations exist south of the river, as most people know, plus there are also relatively few tube stations out east. Meanwhile six different tube lines serve the suburbs of northwest London, with the legacy of Metro-land yanking the centre of gravity further towards stations in Herts and Bucks. Few things confirm the tube's geographical bias more clearly than its average station being St John's Wood.
London's most average DLR station: EAST INDIA Exact spot: Jamestown Way (538938, 180660) [map]
Whereas this is entirely appropriate. The DLR network is essentially a long east/west axis from the City to the Royal Docks, plus two links north to Stratford and one south to Lewisham. Its geographical centre turns out to be on the central connection between Poplar and Canning Town, close to East India Dock Basin, thus in an area that could justifiably be called Docklands. The precise spot on the Thames waterfront is marked by the Virginia Quay Settlers Monument, commemorating Britons who set out from Blackwall Quay to establish a colony at Jamestown in 1607, which makes for a nice historical bonus.
London's most average Overground station: CALEDONIAN ROAD & BARNSBURY Exact spot: Caledonian Road & Barnsbury station (530754, 184306) [map]
Although the Overground notionally covers the capital, the wholesale takeover of West Anglia suburban services has yanked its centre of gravity firmly northeast. Before 2015 the network's geographical centre would have been close to Great Portland Street station, balanced out by branches to Watford, Richmond and West Croydon, but the abundance of fresh stations up the Lea Valley has changed all that. The new average location is a direct hit on Caledonian Road & Barnsbury station, appropriately part of the Overground's original loop, and will likely remain here until the Mayor acquires control of further commuter lines elsewhere.
London's most average tram stop: WEST CROYDON Exact spot: Spurgeons Bridge (532449, 166745) [map]
Confirming that the tram network properly serves Croydon, its most central stop turns out to be West Croydon. The central loop is perfectly balanced, east/west, by the line out to Wimbledon and the three eastern branches. But the average point ends up being slightly north of that loop because Wimbledon and Beckenham are significantly north of Croydon, and the New Addington branch doesn't have enough stops to even things out.
London's most average railway station: VAUXHALL Exact spot: Ethelred Estate (531071, 178618) [map]
This time I've turned to geospatial data provided by the ORR and numbercrunched over 300 stations in London with a National Rail service. And this time we've ended up inside a triangle bounded by Waterloo, Elephant & Castle and Vauxhall stations - closest to the latter. We're about half a mile from London's most average bus stop, but deeper into south London, which is only fair. If the tube network is better north of the Thames then the rail network is better south, reflecting the importance of non-TfL travel across this part of the capital.
Let me circle those last five average stations on a tube map - the tube in red, National Rail in blue, DLR light blue, Overground orange and tram light green.
You might now be thinking "ah yes, now I understand why it's located there", but equally you might not because the tube map is a famously poor representation of geographical truth.
And while we're doing this...
London's most average river pier: WESTMINSTER[map]
The averaged-out location of publicly served river piers falls within St James's Park, conveniently close to Westminster Pier.
London's most average TfL Rail station: (LONDON FIELDS)[map]
TfL Rail is currently two disjoint lines on either side of the capital. At present the east is winning out...
London's most average Crossrail station: (WESTBOURNE PARK)[map]
...but if and when Crossrail is finally complete, all those extra stations out towards Reading will be enough to overwhelm the shorter Abbey Wood branch, leaving the network's central point just west of Paddington.
Chickens: 170 million Humans: 66 million Sheep: 35 million Cattle: 10 million Dogs: 9 million Cats: 8 million Pigs: 5 million Deer: 2 million Horses: 1 million Hamsters: 0.3 million
Approximate percentage of the UK population born...
...this decade 11%
...this century 21%
...before the world wide web 65%
...since Margaret Thatcher came to power 50%
...since the last man stood on the Moon 59%
...before me 31%
...before Elvis Presley's first hit 20%
...after WW2 92%
...before WW2 5%
Approximate percentage of the world's population born...
...this decade 16%
...this century 32%
...before the world wide web 50%
...since Ronald Reagan came to power 62%
...since the last man stood on the Moon 75%
...before me 18%
...before Elvis Presley's first hit 10%
...after WW2 96%
...before WW2 2%
London's most Christian borough: Havering London's most Hindu borough: Harrow London's most Jewish borough: Barnet London's most Muslim borough: Newham London's most Sikh borough: Hillingdon London's most Buddhist borough: Camden London's most irreligious borough: Islington
born in the UK: Havering (87%) (then Bexley, Bromley, Richmond) born outside UK: Newham (43%) (then Brent, Westminster, Hounslow) born in the EU: Haringey (19%) (then Westminster, Hammersmith & Fulham, Harrow) born in Eastern Europe: Harrow (12%) (then Waltham Forest, Newham, Brent) born in Asia: Newham (12%) (then Tower Hamlets, Hounslow, Redbridge) born in Africa: Brent (12%) (then Southwark, Greenwich, Harrow) born in South America: Lambeth (8%) born in North America: Westminster (5%) born in Oceania: Camden (4%)
Everything is normal at Bow's favourite bus stop bypass. Buses stop. Passengers embark and alight. Cyclists whizz by.
But there is a problem - the interface between pavement and bus stop is indistinct.
What the designers of the bus stop bypass hoped was that pedestrians would cross to and from the pavement via a short raised section. Those requiring level access do, else their pushchairs, wheelchairs or whatever would get stuck. But other pedestrians generally cross wherever they like, stepping across the blue channel either with or without looking, creating inevitable conflict.
What the designers of the bus stop bypass also hoped was that cyclists would slow down when they passed through, taking care in case pedestrians were trying to cross. Some do, some are forced to slow down because oblivious pedestrians are standing in the blue lane, and some speed through anyway ringing their bell to clear the path ahead.
Bus Stop M is not alone in this respect. The entire first tranche of bus stop bypasses on segregated cycle lanes were constructed this way. But things are about to change...
Tuesday 26th February
Here come the contractors. They have two truckfuls of equipment, including cones, signs, barriers and a portaloo. It's half past ten in the morning and they're just about to shut Bus Stop M down. A ring of orange plastic will surround the shelter, the cycleway and adjacent pavement. Cones will seal off one of the lanes of traffic so that everyone heading towards the Bow Interchange is funnelled into single file. Cyclists will be informed that the cycle lane ahead is closed, and left to decide whether to join the traffic or to ride up on the pavement. The blue Davlav will take pride of place beside the kerb.
The zebra-fication of Bus Stop M's bus stop bypass is about to begin.
Wednesday 27th February
Here's the view from the top of a passing bus. Bus Stop M is longer than your average bus stop because it's split into two parts with a driveway through the middle. All the action is taking place on the front half at the moment, but eventually the rear half will need the same treatment because that's a separate island.
While the bus stop is coned off buses are temporarily unable to stop. This is not popular. A woman waiting by the kerb waves at our driver to try to get him to stop, but he is well trained and will not do so. She continues to wave, more angrily now, because the bus is stuck in a queue of traffic immediately alongside. Eventually she gives up and strides off towards the next bus stop, five minutes walk beyond the roundabout. This is also where passengers trapped unexpectedly aboard the bus are heading, because the iBus system thinks the stop is open and no announcement was made in advance.
Other drivers take a different approach. A 425 driver stops just before the closed bus stop to let passengers off. A 276 driver stops just afterwards. A 108 driver opens the doors alongside the rear set of cones while the traffic isn't moving. But most drivers do the right thing and pass by, to the temporary annoyance of all.
The temporary cover over the top of Bus Stop M reads "Bus stop closed during dates and times described below". A yellow poster amid the timetables does indeed have this information, but none of the detail can be read because the bus stop is closed and barriered off. The poster confirms that Bus Stop M is closed each day from Tuesday 26th February to Tuesday 5th March between 8am and 4pm, but you'd only know this if you'd visited the stop while it was open.
The advice you can't read says "Passengers are advised to board their buses at the next bus stop". This is very poor advice on route 488 because the next bus stop is the last one. It's not particularly helpful advice on route 8 because the next bus stop is one kilometre's hike away, up near Roman Road. On the other four routes much better advice would have been to board your bus at the previous stop, because that's a much shorter walk. Alas there isn't a previous stop on route 8 because this is the first stop, and basically if you want route 8 you're stuffed. This is not a good week to be trying to use Bus Stop M.
Thursday 28th February
Weather's turned. The contractors are back for their third day, parking up in the middle of the bus stop bypass and returning to their work. These guys are experts in paving, because most of what needs doing is updating and/or replacing slabs and kerb. One job being undertaken is making the crossing point a little wider. Another job is to replace the bumpy yellow blocks with bumpy red blocks, to better aid the visually impaired. Another job is to ensure there are more red blocks than there were yellow blocks, to make the route from pavement to bus stop more distinct. And a consequence of this is a lot of grinding, bashing, scraping and re-laying, with spirit levels poised, so that the end result can endure for many years. The yellow blocks only managed three.
I should point out that the bus stop is only in full-on roadworks mode for a few hours a day. At the end of the afternoon the workmen remove their cones so that traffic can again flow past using two lanes rather than one. They also shift their barriers and shrink their corral so that the bus stop can be returned to operation. By restricting work to the hours between the morning and evening peak, congestion and inconvenience are being kept to a minimum. That portaloo isn't ideal, though, especially if the bus draws up and opens its middle doors immediately adjacent.
Friday 1st March
It's amazing how long tweaking a few slabs and kerbs takes. Here we see the new red blocks snaking off towards the roadside, plus a slight hole where additional red blocks need to be added. The workmen have a special grindy pumpy contraption which they fill with liquid from a plastic canister before attacking another section of edge. They have shovels, pickaxes and tape measures, as well as more modern bits of equipment. They have sand for brushing over the newly-laid tactile blocks to infill all the gaps. They have snacks and lunch, which they retreat to their trucks' cabs to eat when the time is right. They do not appear to have lengthened the hump, but they have extended access to it.
Saturday 2nd March
Alas work on the front half of the bus stop bypass wasn't quite completed before the weekend kicked in, with one final bit of kerb not yet in place. A mysterious tarmac slope has been added, and covered with temporary yellow plastic, for reasons which may become more apparent next week. That means there are currently two humps rather than one, so it's a bit like negotiating part of a mountain biking course, but cyclists can again whizz through and pedestrians can reach their buses. No work has started on the second island yet, so that'll be next week's task, and everything had better be finished by Tuesday evening because that's when possession ends.
Next week
Here's what the finished product ought to look like, because similar work has already taken place at every other bus stop bypass along Bow Road. Where previously there was a featureless hump there's now a painted mini-zebra-crossing, showing pedestrians where they ought to cross and hinting to cyclists that they might need to give way. It's such a simple idea it's amazing it wasn't implemented when the segregated Cycle Superhighway was first built in 2015, but hindsight is a marvellous thing. 43 bus stop bypasses are being retrofitted in this way, and Bus Stop M is one of the last. The entire project is due to be completed by the end of the month, increasing visibility and reducing risk for all, fingers crossed.
Fri 1: The battery in my bathroom scales blipped out, and it's an awkward flat size, so I had to go out to buy a new one. My first thought was Woolworths, dammit, my second was Maplin, dammit, and eventually after half an hour's wandering round Stratford I found one in Wilko. Sat 2: Gosh it's chilly. I wonder if this will be a record-breakingly cold February... Sun 3: Walked along the Grand Union Canal from Paddington to Greenford. At Old Oak Common I spotted two dozen of the purple trains they're not using to run Crossrail at the moment, idling in the depot.
Mon 4: Olivia Colman is damned good in the damned good film The Favourite, isn't she? Not a chance of an Oscar, obviously, but damned good. Tue 5: I do not enjoy the art gallery experience when, on entering the room, the attendant gets up from their chair and watches me looking at the art, then sits down again when I leave. Wed 6: A man started knocking repeatedly on my front door, saying something about coming inside to make a video, so I ignored him and thankfully nextdoor let him in instead (and then he went away). Thu 7: Yes, there is another pre-Worboys roadsign in Sydenham.
Fri 8: Well that's not the Song For Europe I'd have picked. The clubby one was so much better than the histrionic chav. Sat 9: As part of today's explorations I needed to go from Abbey Wood to Paddington, so bemoaned the fact that the purple trains aren't operational yet. On the bright side, by diverting via the DLR at Woolwich, then taking the Underground, I can confirm that I was charged the Crossrail fare :) Sun 10: One joy of early February is that even if the clouds don't clear until 4pm, there's still time for an hour-long walk before sunset. Mon 11: Proving that software is less reliable than a librarian with a datestamp, I managed to renew three books at the Idea Store for 36 days rather than the more usual 21. Staff behind the counter were as baffled as I was. Tue 12: Schoolchildren on the top decks of buses at hometime are just as loud as they always used to be (but not necessarily badly behaved). Wed 13: Emily emailed saying she had "a guide to photography in London I feel would be of great value to your readers". I checked out her webpage and her photo of Oxford Street was actually a street in Oxford, so I don't believe she was the expert she claimed to be. Thu 14: Brixton's Market Row is teetering on the brink between authentic local provenance and gentrified cuisine.
Fri 15: Whitehall has been brought to a standstill by two simultaneous demonstrations - one a group of angry schoolchildren campaigning against climate change, the other a bunch of angry older taxi drivers sitting in a queue of diesel vehicles. Sat 16: One of the little trains from the Ffestiniog Railway was pushed intothe centre of King's Cross station overnight, and I was pleased to see it being photographed by more people than Harry Potter's Brick Wall. Sun 17: The odd thing about my Art Pass is that so far nobody has checked the date on it, just waved me through. Mon 18: I haven't taken out the recycling for so long that there were ten empty 4-pint milk bottles in my pink bags. Tue 19: Whilst at the top of a tall building, I managed to unexpectedly bump into a friend I first met at the top of a tall building in 2009. Wed 20: I saw Dot Hill on a map of London and realised I'd never heard of it, let alone been there, so I rectified that and can confirm it has quite good views of estuarine wind turbines.
Thu 21: That awkward moment when someone accidentally copies you into their private text message and it arrives by email. Fri 22: Some ladies from the new management company for our block of flats decided to clear up our communal noticeboard, taking down all the grubby useful notices and replacing them with pristine bland exhortations, so now nobody remembers what the code for the bins is. Sat 23: This month's edition of The Parish Magazine, Grantchester, includes a double page interview with BAFTA nominee James Norton. Sun 24: Went to Baker Street to see the London Transport Museum's 1938 stock train on one of its last ever inner London journeys. But Baker Street was busy with photographers, so I went to Euston Square instead and that proved much emptier.
Mon 25: On the warmest winter's day on record I walked a decent chunk of the Regent's Canal, peering up at London Zoo's African wild dogs for nothing. Tue 26: On the warmest winter's day on record I walked London Loop section 5 again, including the heights of Riddlesdown, gliders landing at RAF Kenley, the secluded beauty of Happy Valley and the full hump of Farthing Downs, and it was glorious. Wed 27: On and around Hampstead Heath shorts are being worn, the magnolia trees are flowering, cherries are in blossom, bumble bees are collecting, topless sunbathing is occurring, but ice cream vans are sadly lacking. Thu 28: Pizza Hut's salad bar still serves up those tiny flavourless cubes of beetroot that once helped make 1990s dining so exciting.
Route 54: Woolwich to Elmers End
