What caught the eye on the signage was not the fear of mugging, but the plaintive little 'why' added on? It's an official 'why?' as well, not a graffitied addition, as though in a lonely control room, some world weary copper rails against the unfeeling world, fist to sky crying 'why can't we all just be nice to each other?'.

( the darks waters closed over their heads )
Too dark for pictures of the Whitechapel Art Gallery facade, so we retreat back underground, sad to have missed out on Shoreditch:


The last day of operation for Shoreditch chronicled more ably on primitivepeople   's blog, for them that cares.

From above ground at Whitechapel towards Shadwell we descend into the East London Line proper, under the Thames. The tunnels here are the oldest of the Underground, opening to train traffic in 1869, a full hundred years before I was born. The tunnels themselves were built by the Brunels in 1843 and were used by horse-drawn carriages and foot traffic - how marvellous to have seen crinolined ladies strolling through the bricklined tunnel under the Thames, although being near to the docks it was not a reputable area. For its day it had generous headroom and was an engineering marvel, the first tunnel of its kind under a navigable river. You have to love the Victorians daring - but then no H&S regulations so drowning a few navies in the name of progress was taken as inevitable risk.

I love the curved brick ceilings.

I left New Cross after graduation in '95 so wasn't there to see the tarting up of this the second shortest tube line. When I was using it, it was distinctly shabby, with constant arguments in the press about closing it down and fights to save the historic tunnels from destruction and neglect.

Since my time the stations have been cleaned up with shiny new metal fascias all sporting various artists interpretations of the area. Shadwell's art is of the splashy open modern style; not really my thing. Picked a piratical sailing ship for the pic as the least irritating:



However, heading up to street level was marvellous fun climbing up the metal gantry staircases.


Standing on the platfrom, right up against the 'no passengers further than this point or risk a grizzly death' signage, one could hear what sounded like a waterfall. Gave one a real sense of the mighty Thames being held in check by human ingenuity, of Victorian confidence, of really being under the water not merely under the ground. And of course a slight sense of nerves as should one be able to hear what sounds like and awful lot of water rushing past, just beyond sight?

On to Wapping. At least the art here is more draughtmanlike, being pseudo-Victorian copperplate engravings. The platforms themselves, though, incredibly narrow and all lit in an eerie golden glow.


And again, climbing from the deepest part of the Thames tunnel to the surface means going up gantry style staircases, perfect for clambering on to peer over the high mesh. All is industrial, utiltarian styling, but somehow warmed and humanist with the more organic brick surrounding. It is what it is, no frills, and yet not souless. Perfect place to film Blake's Seven episodes.


More of the same at Rotherhithe. Behind the station is the Brunel Mueum, a good companion museum to the Museum of the Docklands at West India Quays - something to look forward to visiting when I do the DLR. Inside, find signs of life in the dark:




We rattle on, towards the first new built station on the East London, the Jubilee Line extension at Canada Water. All the clambering about on filthy metal mesh has left me with interesting addition to the macillage...