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November 29th, 2006
On Saturday, L and I, despite being warm and comfy, and possessing of a large pile of Docty Who DVDs and takeout menus, dragged ourselves out into the weather to attend the Reclaim the Night march from Trafalgar Square up to the ULU Union. We were lazy and skipped out the beginning bit and just went straight to Goodge Street Tube (also nearest station to the Tav, for them that likes a pint and chatting with other Docty Who nerds)
Unsure of the route of the march we stood in the station entrance, staring at the local map, trying to decide which way to go, until we realised we just had to follow the yelling and whistling, which arrived conveniently just outside at that moment. A female black cab driver beeped her horn enthusiatically, and rude gestures from people on buses were rebuffed with such vigour the man in question quailed. I hope he soiled himself. I am Diva, hear the PVC squeak.
Sadly, in our enthusiasm to get on with the demonstrating, we forgot to collect the station on camera, so on Monday on the final leg of our jaunt G and I went back up the Northern Line hoping to walk from Goodge Street to the British Museum for a spot of culture.
( the gaggle of British Museum back room boys standing outside having a fag did not bode well )
Nothing doing. Went back down to see next train in was a District Line to Ealing Broadway. Only one other person on the station, and it was late and dark, so not sensible to accost strangers for photographic help, so no option but to, in L's words' 'straight arm' it and hope for the best.
No time before the train pulled out to get a clear shot...knocked off the bottom end of the District all the way to Stamford Brook though.
Coming into EB on District rather than Central, saw the rather lovely platform name boards are in a different font and style by the staircase. The standard LUL roundel and font asserts itself further along, but nice that they left the originals there.
Guess where?
His little bronze nose has been rubbed shiny by the hundreds of passengers passing through. Bless.
While in London I found myself planning my trip in terms of the stations I could 'get'. If I hadn't overslept on Monday, I was considering riding out to Heathrow to wave
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speedlime on her way back to America and finishing off the bottom spur of the Piccadilly in the process. This is silly. I'm imposing on my friends. Late the night before I had sat up with a pocket map tippexing out the stations I had collected. ( terra incognita )
( terra incognita )
( terra incognita )
Perhaps people here less fraught then Earl's Court, but then, up here they don't have to be worrying about which branch of the District the fickle finger of fate will select next:
Outside the District Line ticket hall is a bank of phones with deco lettering and eau de nile glass tiling surrounds; a forgotten monument to fifties futurism. Signage say 'turn right at the lights and pass under the flyover'. It does not also say, 'oh, there a charity shop here too, that you've never been in, but you have a train to catch so just keep moving...Flyover is ugly, and the Bakerloo station nestles beneath the concrete ribbon. The original oxblood exterior has a newer blue awning stuck onto it, obscuring the lovely Edwardian tiles, but inside the tiled Ticket Office surround remains.
Outside the District Line ticket hall is a bank of phones with deco lettering and eau de nile glass tiling surrounds; a forgotten monument to fifties futurism. Signage say 'turn right at the lights and pass under the flyover'. It does not also say, 'oh, there a charity shop here too, that you've never been in, but you have a train to catch so just keep moving...Flyover is ugly, and the Bakerloo station nestles beneath the concrete ribbon. The original oxblood exterior has a newer blue awning stuck onto it, obscuring the lovely Edwardian tiles, but inside the tiled Ticket Office surround remains.
These fragments are such a delight to find, the odd details that survived a hundred and forty odd years. I am quite giddy with excitement at finding the nouveau styling, squeeing over the architectural fabric. My hopping about in glee cause great amusement for smiley staff member, who not only doesn't mind me taking pics of the above, but takes my pic for me. Sadly, very blurred. Would be rude to make him do it again, so it will have to suffice for the Edgware Road Bakerloo proof:
One stop up and I'm back at Paddington. The tiling here is newer, but has a pattern of fragments of engineering plans across it. No-one else is looking at it. Until I started this project, neither would I have done.
Upstairs, I try the ever popular 'straight arm self portrait' technique, but am saved from horrible results by friendly girl in black tights and cut off denim skirt, who asks if I'd like her to take a picture for me.
And so I get my train home, happily saited at getting four more stations knocked off. As I wait for us to pull out of Paddington, I get the tippex out and remove Earl's Court, Edgware Road x2, and Paddington.
Baywater now bothers me irrationally, standing as the last station on that section of D&C as yet ungathered. It taunts me. I'd passed through going up to Edgware Road, and debated hoping out, but, on sticking my head out the carriage door, as there were no other through trains listed on the platform indicator I'd decided not to risk a long wait, and missing my train home. I stare at it on the map, as though by will alone it willl have the good grace to not exist. I remember that there is a Patisserie Valerie there, and that you can walk easily between it and Queenway, so I can thread in and out via the Central Line on a later jaunt...
