TfL are considering going cashless on buses. You may remember they launched a consultation back in August to ask Londoners what they thought of the idea. I mention this because the consultation ends tomorrow. And I think it's a fair bet that, unless the consultation comes out strongly against, TfL will be going cashless on buses some time next year.
I can't remember the last time I used cash on a bus. I've had an Oyster card for ten years now, so I'm perfectly used to flashing my plastic. More importantly, I have an annual travelcard on my Oyster. A travelcard means I can ride any London bus on any route for no additional fare, no matter which zones it passes through, so I never ever need to Pay As You Go on buses. It doesn't matter to me whether TfL goes cashless on buses because I went cashless a decade ago. But I'm not everyone.
Earlier this year my niece and three of her friends came down from Norfolk to London for the weekend. I met them in North Greenwich, after some musical event at the O2, with the intention of heading back to Bow to kip down for the night. It was close to midnight so we caught the bus, a quick and simple journey under the Thames on the 108. Three of us waved our Oyster cards, because we'd come prepared, even those from the farthest parts of East Anglia. But one friend had no card, only a high value note which she waved somewhat ineffectively at the driver. We cobbled together the cash fare between us, and sped on our way shortly afterwards. But if buses had gone cashless, as TfL plan, I'm not sure how we'd have managed. The WH Smith in the bus station was long closed, and they don't do Oyster anyway. There is an Oyster Ticket Stop at a newsagents inside the O2, but I wouldn't have thought of going there, and they were probably closed too. The second nearest Oyster Ticket Shop is a mile away, in the wrong direction, on the Woolwich Road. And the ticket office at North Greenwich station closes before 8pm on a Saturday, so that's a fat lot of good. We couldn't have walked home, because there's a river in the way. We might have got the tube, assuming it was still running, but that would have cost more and taken longer. Or we could have got a taxi, but can you imagine the fare charged to muggins departing the O2 late at night? Cash, it turned out was the ideal solution.
I'm intrigued by the main argument TfL is putting forward in support of going cashless.
First they tell us only 1% of passengers make cash journeys, as if to suggest that making this change won't affect many people. Then they claim that going cashless will lead to faster journey times, except they just said very few journeys involve paying cash, so that's not much of a time benefit for the rest of us. You can't argue it both ways, not and appear credible.
But I take TfL's point that going cashless will save them money. If bus drivers never have to deal with cash then cash never needs to be collected and banked, and those savings will add up. In a time of austerity, every squeezed outlay helps. But is an extra £24m worth the hassle? By my calculations that's roughly enough to buy 60 New Buses for London, enough to convert the whole of route 25. It's less than half of the cost of building the cablecar. And interestingly it's less than half of the amount those 1% of cash passengers are paying annually in fares.
It's also interesting to see who's still paying in cash.
The great majority of cash users have an Oyster card, but it's either empty or elsewhere. And it's not obvious your Oyster card is empty until you try it, at which point in future the driver will chuck you off the bus.
It's not difficult to get an Oyster card, although the £5 deposit puts some people off. Some aren't chuffed that Oyster means TfL can track their progress round London, whereas cash is entirely anonymous. But cash users are paying £1 over the odds compared to Pay As You Go, so you have to wonder why the refuseniks hold out.
This figure seems significant. A very small proportion of all bus journeys in London will be on night buses, but 10% of the cash fares are taken here. It's not usually possible to pop into a local newsagent after midnight to top up your card, and tube stations are shut, so what's a traveller to do? TfL are proposing that skint Oyster users be allowed one free journey (to be paid back later), which is good mitigation, but not alas if it takes more than one bus to get home.
And this figure seems significant too. There aren't many buses that cross the boundary, certainly not many busy ones, and yet 10% of the cash fares are taken here. When Oyster isn't an integral part of your life, of course you're going to want to use cash instead.
TfL are keen to point out that contactless payment cards can now be used to pay on bus services. Apparently 23000 trips per day are made using CPCs, which might sound a lot but is actually a pitiful amount, and less than half of the 1% using cash. Plus we don't all have contactless cards, do we? My bank sent me a bog standard debit card earlier this year, so I won't be CPC-enabled before 2016 at least.
It's clear that London's buses will go cashless one day. The world seems hellbent on moving from cash to plastic, so the change on public transport is inevitable. But I'd argue that 2014 is too early. There are still too many this will inconvenience, even put at risk, because even 1% of a very large population is a lot of people. I think TfL should wait a few years longer, that's my opinion. And if you want to make your cashless opinion heard, be that pro or con, you have one more day to tell the people who matter.
Shall we just talk about stations? You like it when we talk about stations.
Morden: We started here on a journey last week (Charles Holden, yadda yadda). This wasn't supposed to be the terminus, the Northern line was hoped to extend to Sutton (I'm reading this off Wikipedia, you could do that, all by yourself). Merton Council have a major consultation up and running at the moment for their Morden Masterplan which'll see the area around the station redeveloped (but with Holden's facade remaining "a visual focal point and strengthened"). But let's step back a bit and walk up the long footpath beside the station to the point where the Northern line plunges into tunnel. Because it doesn't plunge very deep, not for the first 500 metres, and certainly not deep enough to build houses on top. And so the authorities did what any good developer would do, they slapped a park on top. That's Kendor Gardens, a linear park just wide enough to cover the two tunnels below, and then some. It's nothing hugely special, indeed it's devoid of all amenities (bar a few benches in memory of John Innes). But the council gardeners have done a fine job with the flowerbeds, with one variegated rosebush still ablaze even in October. And then there's the vibrations. Stand (or sit) here long enough and the ground briefly rumbles, a wholly unexpected tremble, as a Northern line train passes directly beneath. If you're at the southern end of the park you might then hear that train whistle as it emerges from its tunnel a few seconds later and brakes to enter the station. But further north there's just a peculiar judder underfoot, and then the ordinary dogwalking parkspace returns. [photo]
South Wimbledon: It's not in Wimbledon, more in Merton. They were going to call it Merton Grove, but eventually they didn't (that's Wikipedia again). Charles Holden did the station (he did all these really) (there's going to be a lot of photos of the same style of Holden station today, but a bit varied depending on what the shape of the street corner was) [photo] Colliers Wood: We did this place yesterday, remember. The station's near the tower block that's regularly voted the ugliest in London (in years when the Archway one doesn't win). Across the road is a pub called The Charles Holden - the ideal drinking spot for tube architecture aficionados (although they seemed to be going for more of the rugby crowd, I thought) (until April this was the Colliers Tup, and before that The Victory, so one senses they're just jumping on the Tube150 bandwagon) [photo]
Tooting Broadway: This is the busiest station down this section of the line, in terms of its location, that is. Its curving frontage faces a teeming crossroads, bustling with shoppers and snarled up with traffic (or it was at the weekend). Outside the entrance, a colourful flower stall, plus a mirrored cross propped up against the statue of Edward VII with a keen-looking vicar sitting alongside. You don't get this in Balham. [photo] Tooting Bec: Blimey don't the shops change as you walk along the Upper Tooting Road. At the Broadway end are more major chains like Sainsbury's, then slowly the retail offering evolves into almost-entirely Asian outlets. Tooting Bec station has entrances on two opposite corners of a crossroads, one extremely narrow, and boasting three glass roundels (plus a chandelier ring light if you venture inside). Holdenesque, obviously, in spades. [photo] Balham: An actual interchange, this with the tube station in dominant position and the less characterful National Rail platforms tucked behind. By this point, to be frank, the façades of al these Holden stations are starting to look a bit samey (but then most people don't deliberately walk past half a dozen of them in a row) [photo]
Clapham South: The final Holden bastion (or the first if you're travelling the other way). Was nearly named Balham North (which would at least have evened out the Balhams and Claphams somewhat). Sort-of alongside, on the corner of Clapham Common, are the surface buildings of a deep-level wartime air-raid shelter (but we did those on this blog in 2007, so you're not getting them again). Clapham Common: For a start, much love for the domed entrance on an island in the street. And for the "To the trains" sign pointing down into the ticket hall. But mostly for the island platform down below (unbelievably once the southern terminus of the line). This is the straight one, and most people don't walk all the way down to the end (unless they have a camera) [photo][photo] Clapham North: This one's none too thrilling on the surface, at least not in comparison with what's gone before. But the uplighters on the escalator have character. And then there's the tube's other island platform, this the curved one (which means you can get a slightly different photo at the end from the tip of the hockey stick). South London may not have many Underground stations, but it has more than its fair share of splendid ones. [photo][photo]
Come with me to Colliers Wood, two stops from the southern end of the Northern line. This historic corner of Merton (William Morris, Admiral Nelson, etc) lies on the Wandle, one of London's non-lost rivers. A 14 mile foot- and cycle-path, the Wandle Trail, follows the stream all the way from Croydon to the Thames at Wandsworth. But in some places, due to inadequate access, the path is forced to deviate from the river along less appropriate routes. And one of these is in Colliers Wood, at Wandle Meadow Nature Park, thanks to the Bridge To Nowhere.
I rather like Wandle Meadow Nature Park. It's not a landscaped beauty, more a patch of scrubby flood plain on the site of a former sewage works with pylons running up the centre. But it's got a bit of character, a splash of unkempt charm, and it's also where I met my very first urban fox in a sudden footpath face-off. The Wandle Trail passes through, but away from the river, forced to deviate on approach from the south up the side of a pumping station. There ought to be a path along the edge of the concrete culvert, indeed there is initially, it's the pavement of a road called Wandle Bank. A row of terraced houses leads downstream to the site of Merton Mill, once one of the largest corn mills in London, now more flats. But then beyond Byegrove Road comes a new estate, built quite recently on the site of the Connolly Leatherworks, and that's where the riverside path runs out. At the Bridge To Nowhere.
The plan was for Bewley Homes to build a footbridge over the Wandle as part of their Section 106 obligation. This bridge would allow the Wandle Trail to pass through the new estate and across the river, entering the foot of Wandle Meadow Nature Park without the need for a diversion. They designed a bridge that sloped down from the estate bank to the park bank, there being a 2m drop from one to the other. But the Environment Agency said no, the low bridge might obstruct the flow in flood conditions, so go away and think again. The housing company took their time, then returned with revised drawings showing the level structure that's in place today. They stated they'd be installing it with "the access being blocked off as we will not be constructing an access ramp", leaving this for the local authority to complete. And somebody at the council signed these plans off, so on 20th June 2007 a Bridge To Nowhere was installed.
It does look bloody stupid today. A wooden footbridge heads off from the riverbank opposite number 15 Bewley Street, part chained-off to prevent non-existent kids from running into the road. Walk part-way across and the Wandle flows beneath, relatively swiftly, then disappears behind a curtain of foliage. Step further and the trees part to reveal a scrubby corner of Wandle Meadow Nature Park. But you can't get down there, the bridge stops in mid-air, reduced in function to little more than a viewing platform. If you stood in this corner of the park you'd see a wooden structure flying in at about head height, supported on a concrete plinth. But there's no way of clambering up or down, not unless you're an urban monkey, this is a split-level dead end.
Merton Council got cross and accused the builders of going back on their legal obligation. The builders waved their planning permission document, finished their houses and moved on. And so the bridge remains incomplete, a pointless missing link requiring a sinuous detour. The Colliers Wood Residents Association recognised the absurdity of the situation early on, in 2008 creating an 'art installation' to draw media attention. On 20th June 2009 they held a birthday party, inviting local residents and the media to turn up for a singsong and cake on the bridge, and they've been holding one annually ever since. [full backstory]
Alas the residents of Bewley Street have never been supportive. They like living in a cul-de-sac on their own private waterfront, and they're happy for the bridge to stay blocked. The estate's builders laid a narrow footpath alongside their parking spaces, wiggling north along the Wandle, but someone's erected a laminated sign saying "Footbridge closed" in an attempt to keep speculative ramblers out. Attempt to walk past the footbridge towards North Road and you're met by an impenetrable fence labelled "Private Road" and "Private Keep Off". There used to be through access here before the new houses came, but no more, and a detour is required for anyone attempting to continue to the north. Inaccessibility is what local homeowners expected when they moved in, and it's how they'd like things to stay.
But maybe not for long. I spotted two unexpected signs attached to the footbridge when I visited at the weekend, one on the Bewley Street side, the other dangling above the park. Each sign announces that "an application has been submitted" for "completion of footbridge via completion of DDA compliant ramp and steps. Hallelujah! The ramp will have a scissor turn at one end where those with pushchairs or wheelchairs can double back, while those more able can head straight down via a flight of ten steps. This steel-framed timber structure will take up a fair bit of space, all to ensure 100% accessibility, but this is a very quiet corner of the park where hopefully a few square metres of vegetation won't be missed. [Elevations][Location plans][Artists impression]
The money's come from TfL, who've funded a local government grant to improve various parts of the Wandle Trail for walkers and cyclists alike. If you'd like to look up the fine detail of this particular footbridge scheme you can - it's Merton Council planning application13/P2573. This went live on 4th September and interested parties had 21 days to submit support or opposition, a period which ended just over a week ago. Merton's planning portal reveals that nobody stood up and spoke in favour - how would they have noticed when the signs went up on two ends of a dead-end bridge? But three residents of Bewley Street noticed, and felt strongly enough to email their objections...
"We are concerned that many people would use this as a short cut through the Nature Park rather than having to go over the main bridge and would bring more people into Bewley Street, with all the subsequent problems that can bring."
"Kindly note that the nature park opposite Bewley Street is a local gathering area for anti-social behaviour. The current incomplete footbridge is the only element preventing much of this anti-social behaviour from spilling over into Bewley Street."
"Furthermore there is only a small number of non-residence petitioning for the completion of the footbridge. It would not seem to make sense to invite additional crime and anti-social behaviour onto Bewley Street and potentially put the safety of the residence (including a number of young families) at risk just so that a handful of non-residence don't have to walk a small extra distance around the block to access Wandle Meadow Nature Park."
I met some of this anti-social element when I walked down, along, back up and across to reach the parkside end of the Bridge To Nowhere. A bunch of kids on bikes rode in from the estate opposite, gabbling in some Eastern European language, to hide away in the thicket and perch atop some logs. To be honest they looked like they were having a great time exploring their own local wilderness, as if taking part in some nostalgic Enid Blyton adventure. But evidence elsewhere suggested not every visitor to the park behaves so well, indeed I spotted enough used tinfoil discarded by the end of the footbridge to wrap a brace of Christmas turkeys.
The council initially demanded a footbridge to complete a missing link along the Wandle Trail, and to give residents of the new estate access to their nearest recreational amenity. Merton's planners have already declared the status quo "unfit for purpose", so I'd expect the voices of the three Bewley Street complainants to be outgunned by the needs of the wider community. If all goes to plan construction could begin next month, with completion due in spring 2014. And by next summer there'll be ramblers and cyclists passing through, and a valuable shortcut provided for nearby residents, and a brand new circuit those kids on bikes will be able to enjoy. Because the Wandle shouldn't be a private river, it's for everyone, and what's needed here is clearly a Bridge To Somewhere.
I've been to Henley before, back when Boris was its MP and not (quite) Mayor of London. It remains a moneyed town, where ladies and gentlemen brunch in the High Street, where cyclists with £1000+ bikes muster for a jaunt, and where men were wearing maroon trousers long before they became fashionable. This nine mile hike along the Thames Path begins at the town bridge, which'll be the last road to cross the Thames until the other end of my walk. Just north of Henley the Thames conspires to be straight, thus the ideal spot for the first Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race in 1829, and for all the rowing events in the 1908 Olympics. Visit in high summer and the banks of the river are lined by regatta-ready grandstands and hospitality pavilions, whereas by October all you'll see are folk out practising. Various sculls and fours and eights row by, most pursued by a coach on a bike yelling instructions (or abject scorn) through a megaphone. "What are you doing Anthony?! Is that what I told you?!" Coxes have to guide their boats through the choppy wash left by cruisers and motor launches, and occasionally avoid turbo-charged swans flapping headlong down the centre of the river. Sooner them than me.
The folly on Temple Island at Remenham is often used as a finishing line for oared races. It's also where I passed a local man shouting "Boris Boris Boris!", although this turned out to be the name of his Cairn terrier, a mischievous little soul. Here the Thames bends east, which is the general direction of travel for the rest of the walk. Ahead are wooded slopes rising to low hills beyond, with the first shades of autumn beginning to appear (thus far, it seems, leaf-minered horse chestnuts only). The big white mansion on the bend is Greenlands, built by W H Smith out of the not inconsiderable profits from his newspaper business. Next comes Hambleden Lock, the limit of travel for all those in rowing boats (and where strollers from Henley tend to turn back). Larger craft queue until the lock-keeper is ready to beckon them in, while those on foot wait for him to close the gates so they can walk across. Be sure to divert here briefly to view the weir, a long thundering torrent of water with a narrow metal footpath zigzagging above - a most unexpected river crossing. And to view Hambleden Mill at the other end, its glorious weatherboarded frontage crying out to become a 1000-piece jigsaw (whereas in reality it now contains £2000 per month flats).
That's it for the busy part of the walk. The meadow that follows is much quieter, and much more open, at least as far as Ferry Lane. Here the riverbank ahead is blocked, forcing a detour up a muddy potholed lane into the village of Aston. If you like pubs the Flower Pot will do nicely, else continue uphill through the grounds of Culham Court. This is one of Britain's most expensive country houses, last sold in 2006 to the Swiss financier Urs Schwarzenbach for £35 million. It therefore comes as a pleasant surprise that the Thames Path retains a public right of way through his estate. This passes directly between the front garden and the river, on a slope with panoramic views across the Thames Valley, then beneath considerable contoured landscaping designed to shield the house from view. However several signs advise walkers to keep off the rest of the estate, and umpteen implore "no cycling" (not that anyone on two wheels was paying a blind bit of notice yesterday).
The Thames beneath Medmenham is a secluded highway for those with expensive white motorboats. Retired couples and family groups chug by, along with the occasional public school party messing about on the river. Meanwhile the Thames Path has returned to the water's edge, via cattle-filled meadows and horse-trampled tracks. At Frogmill a suite of posh converted barns switches swiftly into an estate of lovable prefab-style bungalows, each set on stilts a few feet above ground level to prevent flooding. The Neo Tudor building on the clifftop ahead (yes, clifftop, who'd have imagined?) is Danesfield House, now a hotel with what must be stunning views over the Thames below. For mere mortal walkers a series of meadows lie ahead, well frequented by Sunday daytrippers. One extended family group had split into men playing volleyball and women nattering round a half-eaten picnic, while two daughters sat in the car with bhangra blaring out for entertainment. I spotted an ice cream boat on the opposite bank, a giant plastic cornet on the roof, but going nowhere while its owner gave the deck a mopdown.
The next lock (and the next village) is Hurley - a little less highbrow than Henley, which you can tell because mooring fees here are three pounds lower. The Thames Path nips across a high bridge to Hurley Lock Island, one of a small archipelago in this bulge in the river. I would have stopped for an ice cream but the queue at the kiosk was too long (even in October). At Temple an even higher footbridge spans the entire Thames - this opened in 1989 to replace a passenger ferry. The path now follows the Buckinghamshire side of the river, having spent the rest of the walk in Berks. There follows yet another lock, where captains must steer their craft away from the big red signs screaming "Danger" for fear of tumbling over the weir. But everyone looks far too able a boatman for that, on what must be their umpteenth journey from marina to wherever and back again.
On the opposite bank is Bisham Abbey, parts of the main building three-quarters of a millennium old, and home to one of England's five National Sports Centres. That's not to be confused with Bisham Church, a lone building with fine Norman tower more immediately adjacent to the river. And here the meadowside path becomes busier, as a hint that we're now within Sunday strolling distance of Marlow. Even Nan and kids on trikes can manage this stretch, so it seems, as an adjunct to their visit to Higginson Park. Here picnics are taken, and balls are kicked, and swans and geese gather expectantly by the towpath in anticipation of chucked bread. Welcome to Marlow. The scenic road bridge ahead can only support traffic up to three tonnes, because it dates back to 1832, and is the only suspension bridge on the Thames upriver of London. The capital's still nearly 40 miles downstream, so this is a good time to stop and investigate Marlow's town centre (very nice, but not quite Henley), and then head home.
Travelling by train: Depart Paddington and change at Twyford for the train to Henley, which runs hourly at weekends. I bought a return, which I flashed to the guard at Marlow and he accepted it as valid for the way back, though you might not be so lucky. Marlow trains double back at Bourne End, then run to Maidenhead, again hourly.
Walking in the opposite direction: Read this, it's a much better description than mine.
Overall verdict: A splendid walk, and quite possibly even more picturesque once autumn kicks in properly.
One year and two summers after its opening, the Dangleway isn't doing as well as it could. Visitor numbersare low, currently bubbling along just under 30000 passengers a week, and on the decline compared to this time last year. Ridership is also strongly skewed towards the weekends rather than weekdays, because TfL have a tourist attraction on their hands, not a viable commuter option. We know this already about the cablecar. And we know there are two major reasons why.
i) It doesn't go anywhere useful
ii) It costs extra
Alas, these are two immovable problems. TfL can't relocate the cablecar somewhere else to link two genuinely desirable locations, its position is fixed. And TfL show no absolutely signs of backing down and absorbing cablecar journeys into existing Travelcard zonal fares, despite considerable pressure from the London Assembly. So those who genuinely need to cross the river between North Greenwich and the Royal Docks use the Jubilee line instead. And those who want to spend £3.20-£8.60 for a skyride come solely for the views, and tend to come just the once.
But the cablecar has one enormous plus.
iii) It's a cablecar ffs
So TfL have been trying various means of promotion to increase passenger numbers, based on the cablecar's innate appeal as an aerial experience. Here are some of the things they've tried already.
• Stocking full colour 4-page leaflets in all tube stations (TfL must have printed tens of thousands of these, they're everywhere)
• Plugging the cablecar prominently on the TfL website homepage(it'll be even more prominent on the new updated TfL website, rolling out later this year)
• Slapping up cablecar adverts at stations, on buses and in trains (for example at Stratford International DLR station, where nobody else wants to advertise, so cablecar promotional posters are on all the walls)
• Offering a Frequent Flyer discount(make five or more journeys this week, then get half your fare back when you travel next week) (yeah right)
• Running an upbeat promotional Twitter account(although, amusingly, they seem to spend half their time apologising to would-be fliers that they're not the proper airline)
• Offering parties of schoolchildren a ride on the cablecar for just £1 (a damned clever way of making the ridership numbers look more impressive than they really are)
• Opening a cafe and an Emirates Air Linepromotional exhibition at the North Greenwich terminal (for which you pay extra, so no thanks)
• Inviting Lethal Bizzle to perform his latest single, Party Right, 90 metres above the River Thames (as cringeworthy as you'd expect)
• Encouraging £100+coachholidays from the provinces to Greenwich, with the highlight being a trip on "London's Olympic Cable Car" (that's a ten minute highlight, woo yeah)
• Urging visitors to the O2 to pre-book their cablecar tickets(this is new) (they even urge you to "book your boarding passes now to avoid the queues", ha!) (you can only pre-book a full price fare, not the Oyster discount)
• Publishing a jaunty YouTube video to encourage you to view "the lights of London at night" from the cablecar (somehow I thought the lights of London would look more impressive than that, but meh)
But come on, surely we can think of better. Let's help out Cablecar Supremo Danny Price and come up with some even better promotional ideas. The first five are mine. And I'll post the best of yours below.
» Give each rider a Lucky Bingo Number and offer a £100 weekly prize.
» Construct a statue of Justin Bieber at the western end of the Royal Docks.
» Refit 50% of the gondolas as boutique hotel rooms.
» On Tuesday evenings speed everything up so a crossing takes two minutes, to attract thrillseekers.
» Bid for the Olympics again in 2024. » Since it's an airline, set up a dutyfree at each end for departing passengers.
» Extend the cablecar to Tower Bridge to make it a proper tourist experience.
» Do a deal with Excel to include a one way trip in the conference ticket price.
» Say you're having a closing down "event" to encourage people to take their "last ever" dangle on the Dangleway.
» Run a smear campaign against the Jubilee Line, criticising the trains, the reliability, and the fact that you can't see bugger all underground.
» FREE cable car styled cupcake on completion of your journey. [Voucher only valid for redemption at the terminal in which you started your journey]
» Offer a car with curtains and a mattress, and give people the option to join the "90m high" club.
» Your promotional idea here
Morden: We started here on a journey last week (Charles Holden, yadda yadda). This wasn't supposed to be the terminus, the Northern line was hoped to extend to Sutton (I'm reading this off Wikipedia, you could do that, all by yourself). Merton Council have a major consultation up and running at the moment for their Morden Masterplan which'll see the area around the station redeveloped (but with Holden's facade remaining "a visual focal point and strengthened"). But let's step back a bit and walk up the long footpath beside the station to the point where the Northern line plunges into tunnel. Because it doesn't plunge very deep, not for the first 500 metres, and certainly not deep enough to build houses on top. And so the authorities did what any good developer would do, they slapped a park on top. That's Kendor Gardens, a linear park just wide enough to cover the two tunnels below, and then some. It's nothing hugely special, indeed it's devoid of all amenities (bar a few benches in memory of John Innes). But the council gardeners have done a fine job with the flowerbeds, with one variegated rosebush still ablaze even in October. And then there's the vibrations. Stand (or sit) here long enough and the ground briefly rumbles, a wholly unexpected tremble, as a Northern line train passes directly beneath. If you're at the southern end of the park you might then hear that train whistle as it emerges from its tunnel a few seconds later and brakes to enter the station. But further north there's just a peculiar judder underfoot, and then the ordinary dogwalking parkspace returns. [photo]
Tooting Broadway: This is the busiest station down this section of the line, in terms of its location, that is. Its curving frontage faces a teeming crossroads, bustling with shoppers and snarled up with traffic (or it was at the weekend). Outside the entrance, a colourful flower stall, plus a mirrored cross propped up against the statue of Edward VII with a keen-looking vicar sitting alongside. You don't get this in Balham. [photo]
Come with me to Colliers Wood, two stops from the southern end of the Northern line. This historic corner of Merton (William Morris, Admiral Nelson, etc) lies on the Wandle, one of London's non-lost rivers. A 14 mile foot- and cycle-path, the Wandle Trail, follows the stream all the way from Croydon to the Thames at Wandsworth. But in some places, due to inadequate access, the path is forced to deviate from the river along less appropriate routes. And one of these is in Colliers Wood, at Wandle Meadow Nature Park, thanks to the Bridge To Nowhere.
It does look bloody stupid today. A wooden footbridge heads off from the riverbank opposite number 15 Bewley Street, part chained-off to prevent non-existent kids from running into the road. Walk part-way across and the Wandle flows beneath, relatively swiftly, then disappears behind a curtain of foliage. Step further and the trees part to reveal a scrubby corner of Wandle Meadow Nature Park. But you can't get down there, the bridge stops in mid-air, reduced in function to little more than a viewing platform. If you stood in this corner of the park you'd see a wooden structure flying in at about head height, supported on a concrete plinth. But there's no way of clambering up or down, not unless you're an urban monkey, this is a split-level dead end.
But maybe not for long. I spotted two unexpected signs attached to the footbridge when I visited at the weekend, one on the Bewley Street side, the other dangling above the park. Each sign announces that "an application has been submitted" for "completion of footbridge via completion of DDA compliant ramp and steps. Hallelujah! The ramp will have a scissor turn at one end where those with pushchairs or wheelchairs can double back, while those more able can head straight down via a flight of ten steps. This steel-framed timber structure will take up a fair bit of space, all to ensure 100% accessibility, but this is a very quiet corner of the park where hopefully a few square metres of vegetation won't be missed. [Elevations] [Location plans] [Artists impression]
One year and two summers after its opening, the Dangleway isn't doing as well as it could. Visitor numbers are low, currently bubbling along just under 30000 passengers a week, and on the decline compared to this time last year. Ridership is also strongly skewed towards the weekends rather than weekdays, because TfL have a tourist attraction on their hands, not a viable commuter option. We know this already about the cablecar. And we know there are two major reasons why.
