Showing posts with label tube. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tube. Show all posts

Wednesday, 12 September 2012

Ode to commuting

I wake up at 6 am

All I want is a Krispy Kreme


Shower, clothes, get things ready,

Walk downstairs a bit unsteady



Housemate is up, making coffee

He's on a diet but wants some toffee



Don't slam the door, housemates sleeping

Sun's out, men are sweeping



Oyster, iPad, iPod, phone

Need a Brollie, not my own



I walk agile those few meters

Bag feels heavy, just like liters



7 o'clock, arrive at the station

Train is coming: wind, vibration



Train is crowded, no more seats

Elbow, pushing, no defeat



Famous Circus, change of train

Find the tunnel, don't delay



3 minutes left. WiFi is On

Check your Twitter and some (dot)com



Brown as earth and old as hell

Jolting parts and dodgy old smell


I don't hate it, it's just Bakerloo

Doesnt matter, call at Waterloo *

*i know, i know... this rhyming is sh*te, but how would you rhyme Bakerloo otherwise?



It is done. Tube ride's over

From one transport to another



7:35. Train departs

Stretch your legs. Journey starts



40 minutes is my train ride

Breakfast and sleeping is implied



I wave bye-bye to the Shard

Foggy, sunny... Avant-garde



Passed through Vauxhall, smells like toast

It's where Nero and Costa do their roast


Pimlico Plumbers flashy in December

Tacky lighting since November



Workmates flirting, it's quite funny

Catering trolley: porridge and honey



You nosy, stop staring at my screen

Keep looking, will show something obscene



8:18: we are almost there

Sun is out but not a glare


My location is not disclosed

London and there: juxtaposed


Run for the bus at 8:19

Cross, not looking, light's not green



Taking this bus is like lottery

When I miss it, eyes go watery


Short bus ride to reach the office

8:30. What a journey!



This is it. It's my morning

Don't disturb me. It's a warning







Tuesday, 8 May 2012

Milkshakes and Ice-cream

It is funny how a simple Friday evening can get so complicated all of a sudden. We all have terribly busy weekdays, so that making up for all the 'wasted time' is absolutely essential for the sake of the full enjoyment of our miserable commuting lifes.

Let's say last Friday, we organises a very busy Friday Evening starting by one of the pop-up concerts celebrated at St Pancras Station that have been happening from February until last Thursday. Bringing the subject of pop-up events mentioned already last week, this Station Sessions were so pop-up that although were heavily advertised by Twitter, and in spite of going around the station a couple of time we were not able to find the stage.

Resigne by the epic failure after rushing through the infinite tunnels of the underground at King's Cross, we managed to make it on time, at the announced time. But still, we couldn't find them. Not very happy with the outcome of the start of the little adventure, we located the Eurostar counter, hoping to find a bargain ticket to go to Paris, as one of those crazy improvised things that happen spontaneously every now and then and become absolute topic of conversation for months. Unfortunately, although realisable, the improvisation would have costed us around 200 pounds per person. In stead, we decided to invest that money in ourself by treating us with a milkshake in a nearby coffee shop (while making a pact between us of not to mention the shameful attempt of going to Paris with not so successful result).

While escaping from the masses of the commuting home, I remembered how the new Concourse at King's Cross had just been renovated after months or probably years of works in the area. Looking like one of those very high-end new airports (*cough cough* Madrid Barajas), KC certainly showed an impressive new face, with a very interesting structural mesh at the ceiling, illuminated with an eye-catching pink light. Good one for the Olympics, we all thought.



After a few minutes decided we had enough of architecture for the day, my Twitter advised me of the exact location due to the guys in charge of the event. Turns out, the gig was going to happen, it was just that it was SO pop-up that literally bloomed in seconds. By the time we reached the Eurostar check-in area of the station, we finally bumped into the small crowd around the band: Clock Opera. The super-recognisable beard of the lead singer plus the red stripy jumper of the guitarist were noticeable enough to find them too at the Camden Crawl on Sunday. Small world.


As the time was passing by, the need for a very well reviewed milkshake by our friend K was digging an even bigger hole in our estomacs. After the band finished playing, without hesitation, we run into Drink Shop Do.

If I remember well, the previous weekend, we kind of did the same action of visiting this very quirky Coffee/Cocktail Bar on a Friday Evening with not very big results as it was fully booked and extremely busy. It was a shame as there was a competition going on to carve in clay the face of Lionel Richie.

This time we came earlier, but still, most of the tables were already booked so we had to use one table knowing firmly that we should leave it after an hour or so. 





Still not sure if it was just our imagination being affected by the hunger we had or it was just genuinely bad, but certainly the wait to be served took way longer than our guts wanted. In fact, the feeling of the time ticking to evacuate the table was not in our first wishes. After around 15 minutes of uncertainty, a waitress informed us that the ice-cream, (note that it was barely 5:30pm, on a Friday) had run out and therefore the milkshakes would have none of it. We all shared a common face of odd-ness, like in a cartoon, raising comically one of our brows, at the same time we were giving enormous disapproval looks. 

After recovering for the shock and after a couple of misunderstandings between the staff and us, we decided that the awkwardness was higher than our hunger for a very expensive milkshake, so we waved goodbye (and got our money back) feeling strangely betrayed and went on our hunt to find another place  to feed our empty souls.


Trying to come up with an explanation of actually the failed third attempt to stay at this place, we decided to move on and keep our root of tasks for the day, so we headed to Shoreditch. Blaming it on the uncertainty, we took the longest and most uncomfortable route to the East End, deeply ignoring the presence of the Overground or the "famous three" to Shoredich High Street. In stead, we took the painful tunnel from Pentoville Road up to the Northern Line branch to Moorgate, and have the walk or our lifes until we reached our destination (actually it is not that bad, but felt infinite). 

We finally reached Richmix with a terribly empty stomach. Fortunately arriving on time, we had the opportunity to see first hand a display of the polymeric clay street artist CityzenKane, which I have been admiring since I first set a foot on Brick Lane. Even though the display was not very big, it was a big oportunity to see a good range of his pieces all together, in stead of having to find them on the streets of London, where they usually get vandalised (CZN's Lord Jagannath has been removed recently)




On the Mezzanine floor, a small photography exhibition about British Sub-culture. Really good portraits. And it's free. We all love freebies, don't we? 


The last step for our very elaborated plan involved proper sitting down for a decent meal. Taking the overground back North, at its last stop, Highbury & Islington and a couple of bus stops after we arrived at my beloved The Beach Hut. Our first decision was to study the level of hunger to ask for an appropriate size for their delicious fish and chips. Still, no matter the size you ask for, the portions are always extremely big.



A big piece of cod with proper hand cut chips and a cream soda after, playing some Tic Tac Toe, our stomachs still had some room for the best thing about the Beach Hut: THE ICE-CREAM. Two glorious gigantic scoops of ice-cream, that in my case were Honey & Lavender and Coconut settled the night and we went home to die of joy. 



Friday evening not necessarily as smooth as planned, but definitely worth trying. 

Friday, 23 March 2012

Victory and Misery




If I could choose a tube line to stick to, I would definitely choose Victoria Line. I like the name, sounds very patriotic, like winning, Victory, but apart from the name, that apparently is also known as 'The Banana Line', is its functionality and shape itself.

Never been to Walthamstow, never planned, but Tottenham Hale takes you yo Cambridge, to Stansted Airport and to Ikea, first stop of those that have recently move to north London. Haven't been in ages, literally. Seven Sisters, never been and don't plan to either. Finsbury Park, dearest neighbourhood. Dodgy, most probably, but it is those little gems spreaded around the hood for you to find and not be bored on weekends.  Highbury & Islington, the place where I would choose to life. Quirky little posh area with a hub for the overground, main door to the East End.

Then usual Central London stops. Kings, Euston, Warren Street (Taco night!), Oxford Circus, loved (for the shops) but loathed (for the crowds). Green Park, only used to change, Victoria is your dearest friend when you are catching a flight, Pimlico my first neighbourhood (I was so naïve back then). Vauxhall bad memories, house of the impressive MI5. Stockwell, what? Brixton, new found land and house of one of my friends. Need to explore the South.

Opened back in the 60s, first fully automated line. Fast as hell, North to South, new shinny trains. Last year they retired the '67 stock with a very emotive farewell. Missed that.

Too good to be true. So fast, so reliable that just cannot cope. Already reached its capacity a couple of years ago. Still my loved one.

Then we have the usual hated ones, the pack of District, Circle, Metropolitan and last but not least Hammersmith & City. Clattering all along the line, old tracks, old stock of carriages. Wider and lighter because they are mostly 'overground', but slow, old, smelly and always disrupted. First thing a learnt from there: avoid those lines at all cost. It's a pity, as they take you to remote corners of the city, from the swankyness of Richmond to the very indian East Ham. Not the most pleasant journeys.

We also have Picadilly. I don't like it as much as Victoria, but I consider it her (oh, now I am considering Victoria a 'female' line) little big sister. Slow, as for being one of the oldest (not as old as the previous Dream Team), but quite old. North to North West or South West. From the funny but probably never visited Cockfosters to the very convenient Heathrow Airport. It calls at all central London hottest spots, Leicester, Picadilly, Covent Garden, but so many stops make the journey long and boring. An undisclosed source, in reality a friend of mine, commented that apparently it is considered the Gay Line. Still haven't found a reason or an explanation.

Overground. Lovely new refurbished carriages and extended C-facing-down-shape line that has discovered me the beauty of East London. Back when I moved in, not very long ago, visiting the cockney side involved a very tedious journey on the 653/654 of an hour long. Alternatively, it required to use the dream time line, when not disrupted, walking and engineering to reach the desired point. Now the shinny little trains can take me to the Olympic site in a blink of an eye in carriages that look pretty much as good as the ones from my hometown.

We also have Bakerloo. Hybridised name between Baker (Street) and Waterloo station, is a bland line connecting certainly odd corners of the city. Never gone further up than Marylebone, down to Elephant and Castle, its carriages are most probably from the 70s. The knackered moquette from the seats and unpleasant brown of the line colour made it always look pretty odd to me. There is one little feature that still catches my eye everyday: its moon-shaped wall lamps with very white light. Light that reflects on the glass separators between the sections of the carriage, that act like a mirror multiplying the reflection of the light. Weird vision of infinite moons inside a carriage, like putting to mirrors in front of another and you're in between. Curious effect. I like it.

Northern line, apparently widely know as misery line. It is annoying enough as it is as branched as bushy tree. Chaotic interchange at Euston where you seriously consider tossing a coin to choose the adequate platform for your destination. Must say it is my 3rd most reliable option in case of disruption of my daily commute, but just had to use it once. Trains are a sad stock from the 90s probably. Horrible frequency between trains makes you really think about the misery of using the line. The exchange between Victoria and Misery at King's Cross can give you nightmares of infinite walking along the corridors and feeling of despair in between. I learnt better ways to reach Angel without using it.

Then we have Central. My hero one when I moved in here as it took me to my favourite spots of the city, and its horizonal layout makes it easy, pleasant to the eye and kind of comforting. From Notting Hill Gate to Bank, stopping at Marble Arch, Oxford and Tottenham Court Road. It is a shame that its carriages, similar stock to Northern, are gloomy little cans, kind of sad to travel in. Highly disrupted lately, has lost points on my list of favourite ones. Long time ago.

Jubilee Line. Grey. Disturbing. Disrupted. Eternal fail. One of the newest line. Suicide-proof in some of the stations, has a weird path across the city, from North to Southbank and then to the East. Feels cold. Its newly refurbished stations have been reinforced with metal panels. Looks modern, clean and solid, you can tell it was done for functional reasons. Speedy hubs for City workers. Waterloo, Canary Wharf, Stratford, London Bridge. Just by mentioning the name you picture Suits, coffee in hand, full suitcases and no time for social mercy until they have reached their destination. Big and important line, unexplicably faulty 24/7.

Waterloo & City. Pendular line consisting on just Point A and Point B. Purely functionalised to convey the flow of City Commuters coming from commuter towns around the South West of London. Characterised by its sweet and innocent pastel green, its probably one of the greatest unknowns for ordinary commoners from London. Often closed on the weekends, is one of those lines that none of your friends have ever used. You know it is there, but there is never a reason good enough to trial test it. There is no need for it though. Why would you like to suffer the pain of the most overcrowded station, Bank-Monument just for the sake of your curiosity?

Exactly.

That's what I will be doing my next day off.

But again, that's another story. 
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