| Tubewhore ( @ 2007-01-13 22:55:00 |
| Entry tags: | euston, highbury & islington, tiling, warren street |
Euston, Warren Street & Highbury & Islington
Once I return to the depths of the Underground, in need of an earlyish night after all this walking, an obsessive thought crept into my head - it was only one stop down the Northern Line to Euston...that would take out both the Euston Stations...before I'd really thought about it, I found my feet taking me on the Northern Line escalator.
At Euston there's no name marker to say 'Euston', just a bloody great roundel in the ceiling; that will have to suffice.
I bother woman who isn't as harried looking as the others that rush past to the escalator. She seems baffled by the request but dutifully points the camera and as she takes the shot I see she presses the 'off' button rather than the shutter. I see the camera switch itself to sleep...however, duty done, she seems eager to get on her way and stop having to deal with the pink haired nutter so I just smile, take the camera back and say 'thank you'...I then get an attack of nerves; all around me people are rushing homewards, or stand about finishing phone calls before they go out of reception underground. It must take me a good three minutes to summon the nerve to ask someone else, but even though he too seems baffled that I should want such a thing as a picture of me under the Euston Underground roundel he does the job, even getting down on one knee to frame a better shot.

Down on the platform, there's only one chap on his own, so I ask him to do the honours with the station ident behind me. He takes it all very seriously and asks pertinent questions such as if I want the picture landscape or portrait, does he want me to zoom in...I tell him he's the artist, and to make the choices he find best. After all the concentration the picture is blurry. I chose to believe it's the camera's fault in not focusing clearly...chap is interested in the project so I tell him the webaddress (if you're reading this, do say 'hi')

Once on the train at Euston I can't shake the bug; I'm bitten bad...Warren Street is but one stop down...I find myself getting off...upstairs, still rainy, so quickly grab nearest passerby, who carefully balances his McDonald bag on a railing while taking the photo. He tells me apologetically that he's rubbish at photos, but any difficulties are due to low light meaning slow shutter speed which means blur, but I don't want the helpful souls's supper to get cold farting about trying to get something better...

Back underground, despite tiredness and it getting late, I can't help but notice that Warren Street is also on the Victoria Line, and Highbury & Islington is but a few stops North - getting that would fill in a nice hole, and leave just four stations on the Victoria Line to get.
I give in to the bug. On the Northbound Victoria Line platform at Warren Street, I ask an elegant creature for help. She's beautifully groomed in a way I can never achieve.

We both board the next train out. The floor at the entrance to the train is peppered with pages from some dodgy gay porn mag. We are confronted with hilarious collages of large erections which people are studiously ignoring...sadly the judder from the train means I can't take a good picture as proof, plus it looked bloody mad to be taking photos of porn mags.
I know people who live at H&I. The last time I was here it was to do a wedding dress, the most technically complex dress I've ever made. It took nearly five hours just to hand roll the hem,as well as nights of anxiety dreams about the cowl draping going wrong and the bias cutting going badly; it was terrifying to do...the stress of that dress is one of the reasons I've decided not to doing wedding dresses again unless a) I get a huge amount of money for it b) I really, really love the person who's getting married. Otherwise, wedding dreses are just to emotionally draining, people have so much invested in them the pressure is enormous...it's way too late to visit them anyway, so I don't call, instead just a quick 'upstairs-and-about-face' trip.
Aboveground my stomach growls at the heavenly site of the Highbury Creperie. I get the nice chap running the stand to take a picture as I lean on the counter. He snaps me while the halloumi cheese for my pitta bread grills.
Aboveground my stomach growls at the heavenly site of the Highbury Creperie. I get the nice chap running the stand to take a picture as I lean on the counter. He snaps me while the halloumi cheese for my pitta bread grills.

I'm not usually one for fast food, but this is just so good, having that extra savour that the perfect solution to rampant hunger often has. I am very happy stuffing it in my face as I walk back to the platform, where I am just about the only person there.
As the only other people waiting are way down the other end, I just have time to get a shot of the tiling before the train pulls in...
As the only other people waiting are way down the other end, I just have time to get a shot of the tiling before the train pulls in...

...so all in all, 23 stations today, 1 the day before, making a total of 24 done this trip up, gives me a running total of 88 leaving 186 to go...not too shabby.