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111. The platform tiles at Hatton Cross
For a long time I was baffled by the opening line of the Beatles’ Back in the USSR. “Flew in from Miami Beach BOAC.” What did those letters mean? Were they some kind of code? A bit of 1960s polari? I...
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112. The romance of the Underground
The arteries of the Underground can pull tight around your heart. The crescendo roar of a train as it rattles through a tunnel towards the platform plays with your emotions in much the same way as that...
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113. The station at Roding Valley
A bit of an atypical choice, this. I’ve included it not because of something, but despite. What’s great about Roding Valley is that despite being the least-used station on the entire Underground, it...
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114. The interior of Chiswick Park
This is my idea of parks and recreation. A turn around the cool, sighing interior of this station is more than a match for a ramble across one of London’s postal districts packed like squares of wheat....
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115. The terminus at Heathrow Terminal 5
“Like the architecture?” a Terminal 5 employee called out to me as I stood taking this photo. “Yes,” I replied, “absolutely.” “I hate it,” chipped in a passer-by, hurrying up an escalator. “That’s...
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116. The roundels at Redbridge
This is possibly the shabbiest thing I’ve included in this blog so far. And frustratingly, it would be one of the easiest and cheapest to remedy. I’m not sure if there’s regulation paint available from...
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117. The end of the line at Amersham
In the top left-hand corner of the Underground map, the short, stubby branch lines that run to Amersham and Chesham sit there like a two-fingered salute to the empty space beyond. You think we’re going...
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118. The memorial plaque at Barbican
I love cats as much as I love the Underground, cups of tea, Carry On films and other things of varying shades of embarrassment. But I’m forever disappointed at how badly cats, specifically those who...
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119. The roundel at Burnt Oak
There’s no burned oak at Burnt Oak. There’s not much to the station either, which is a squat pavilion a bit like Brent Cross and Hendon Central, only not as noble or elegant. What there is, however, is...
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120. The entrance to Park Royal
Royal parks are ten-a-penny in London, and they’re all much of a muchness. Grass, basically. Maybe a monument. Someone pissing against a tree. Park Royal, however, is one of a kind. And it outranks...
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