Tubewhore (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} tubewhore) wrote,@ 2008-04-19 19:14:00 |
|
Completing the Jubilee Line - Kilburn to Neasden: Part 3
Neasden on the Jubilee and across to Stonebridge Park on the Jubilee, by way of one of the Wonders of the World:
..after finding art treasures in the pedestrian tunnels at Dollis Hill, we close up the final gap on the Jubilee Line by conquering the ticket barriers at Neasden.
Glad to leave - well the area; not the temple...not enough time there. I call the Cadogan from the train and we head there for afternoon tea. Weird day of strange weather and stranger juxtapositions of locations and architecture, which I suppose is one of London's great strengths.
Neasden on the Jubilee and across to Stonebridge Park on the Jubilee, by way of one of the Wonders of the World:
..after finding art treasures in the pedestrian tunnels at Dollis Hill, we close up the final gap on the Jubilee Line by conquering the ticket barriers at Neasden.
Neasden station itself is jauntily painted in china blue and white sailors stripes, but not a lot can be done to pretty up the fact that it's lost in an urban sprawl of estates and ring roads. Wembley Stadium hovers on the skyline...this is the miserable face of city living - chain link fencing, litter and cracked tarmac as land has been swallowed up for housing and light industrial use with an emphasis on cheap and quick rather than attractive or humane.
We have a specific destination in mind, and consult the local map. Inconveniently the station building itself is small, meaning the map has been stuck above a ticket barrier so you have to block the exit in order to reach it. We are advised on routes and buses by station staff, so as the weather continues in its schizophrenic switch between blinding sun and sleet, we take the momentarily blessing of sunshine to stroll towards the less than salubrious environs of the bus stop opposite Neadsen Parade by way of 30's architecture.
This is what London beyond Zone 2 looks like; I want you to have an idea of the general area, because it contains a surprise:
This is what London beyond Zone 2 looks like; I want you to have an idea of the general area, because it contains a surprise:
From here we take a bus towards the big retail park containing a massive ugly Tescos, car dealerships and IKEA. Sleet starts as we continue our peregrinations towards Stonebridge Park. Following road signs we cross the North Circular, duck down a small side street - just another standard road in the suburbs, except that at the bottom of this one is the largest Hindu temple outside of India, carved from white marble and limestone. It appears on the skyline like something made from royal icing.
This is perhaps one of the most surreal things I've ever seen. Usually large monuments like this kind aren't sandwiched between rail depots and retail parks. I can't adequately express how peculiar it is to find something just this huge, this spectacular, hidden away in this part of London.
As we get closer, and the detail emerges it just gets more impressive.
As we get closer, and the detail emerges it just gets more impressive.
Passage to India via a one day travelcard:
We drop our bags at security, and head inside, leaving shoes behind in one of many little pigeon-holes and skate around in stockinged feet on polished marble floors. Outside, dirty Old London has begun to take the shine of the stonework, but inside is a crisp and pristine as if it was carved yesterday, which in truth, it very nearly was. I'm used to visiting ancient monuments - things that have had centuries to weather into softened lines, but this was only finished in 1995. It's gives an impression of how precise places like Whitby Abbey would have been several hundred years ago before sculpted into froth by salt-laden winds, and gives hope that people can still make things like this. No photographs allowed inside, so you'll just have to visit for yourself to see the halls of marble carved into fretted curlicues and arabesques, the stone made to seem weightless, made of dreams. Truly a wonderous experience; I promise it's well worth the trek. We stroll in silence, drinking in the frosted milky light glittering from the frozen music of the stonework.
Naturally, the gift shop supplies plentiful postcards, and I bought extra, so first person to email a snail mail address to my inbox (sbamford AT uwclud DOT net) will receive a souvenir from the temple in the post. I'm also keen to visit again, so if anyone is free the first week of July company on the visit would be very welcome.
From here we walk back into mundane suburbia again, cross back over the tarmac expanse of the North Circular to find Stonebridge Park on the Bakerloo Line. After the delicate, shining marble and serene atmosphere of the temple, the noise and dirt of London crashes back in on us...Stonebridge Park is utterly charmless. I spent a week temping here once - commuting in from Welwyn GardenCity, 30 miles to the north; just awful. I don't remember who I tempted for or what I did apart from it was photocopying, but I remember that the journey was a terrible slog, and that I didn't feel especially safe. It's a grim jolt back to reality.
Stonbridge Park station has no external signage:
Naturally, the gift shop supplies plentiful postcards, and I bought extra, so first person to email a snail mail address to my inbox (sbamford AT uwclud DOT net) will receive a souvenir from the temple in the post. I'm also keen to visit again, so if anyone is free the first week of July company on the visit would be very welcome.
From here we walk back into mundane suburbia again, cross back over the tarmac expanse of the North Circular to find Stonebridge Park on the Bakerloo Line. After the delicate, shining marble and serene atmosphere of the temple, the noise and dirt of London crashes back in on us...Stonebridge Park is utterly charmless. I spent a week temping here once - commuting in from Welwyn GardenCity, 30 miles to the north; just awful. I don't remember who I tempted for or what I did apart from it was photocopying, but I remember that the journey was a terrible slog, and that I didn't feel especially safe. It's a grim jolt back to reality.
Stonbridge Park station has no external signage:
Glad to leave - well the area; not the temple...not enough time there. I call the Cadogan from the train and we head there for afternoon tea. Weird day of strange weather and stranger juxtapositions of locations and architecture, which I suppose is one of London's great strengths.
