'Changes'

Day 20

 

Charing Cross - Chesham

 

Two posts in one week! You lucky devils!

 

Having started the 'C's with some relatively easy journeys (all those lovely Camdens and Caledonians clumped together) the last couple of trips have been rather more taxing expeditions - heading out to such far-flung places as Canonbury and Chalfont & Latimer.

 

Given that the next few stations include Chesham (another trip to the Chilterns) and Chigwell (way out east) with Charing Cross and Chiswick Park either side - not exactly rubbing shoulders with each other on the map - it seems to me to make more sense to do a couple of shorter journeys in quick succession, rather than spend so long travelling that there's no time left for actually looking around.

 

So today I plan to visit just two stations - Charing Cross and Chesham - and we'll start off with a little history...

 

***

Charing Cross Tube Station (not to be confused with the railway station of the same name) has had various name changes over the course of its history, and trying to follow these changes can prove very confusing. The fact that nearby Embankment station (which of course I'll be visiting sometime in the future) has shared the same fate, and indeed some of the same names, only adds to the befuddlement.

 

So, bear with me, and do try to keep up…

 

The Underground station we know today as 'Charing Cross', was originally two separate stations - one for the Bakerloo Line (which was originally called 'Trafalgar Square' station), and a separate one for the Northern Line (which was called 'Charing Cross' and which was at that time the terminus of the Line). Then the Northern Line was extended south to join with the existing station at what is now called Embankment, but which at the time was rather unhelpfully also called Charing Cross.

 

To avoid confusion (hah!) The northernmost of these two Charing Crosses was renamed Charing Cross (Strand) while the southernmost was called Charing Cross (Embankment). These names lasted only a year, and in 1915 Charing Cross (Strand) was renamed simply Strand, while Charing Cross (Embankment) adopted the original name – Charing Cross.

 

So at that point, what we now know as Charing Cross was called Strand, and what we now know as Embankment was called Charing Cross. Got that? Sure? Ok...

 

Fast forward to the 1970s, when the station then known as Strand was temporarily closed so that it could be connected with the station originally known as Trafalgar Square (Remember that one? Read back a bit, you’ll find it right at the beginning). While this was happening, the station that was at the time called Charing Cross (but which we now know as Embankment) was renamed Charing Cross Embankment.

 

When the newly-combined Strand/Trafalgar Square station was opened in 1979 it was renamed for the final time (so far) as Charing Cross, and the other station, Charing Cross Embankment, was given its current name of Embankment.

 

Only in this country…..

***

Charing Cross (unless they've
changed the name again)

What all this means in practical terms is that Charing Cross tube station disgorges you (or rather me) into one of the major tourist attractions in London - Trafalgar Square. And since this blog is, if anything, an attempt to discover things about the capital I wouldn't otherwise have come across, I'm going to try to avoid the obvious attractions and look instead for one or two things the guide books may not mention.

 

 

However, I don't suppose I can get away with not mentioning the one feature of Trafalgar Square everyone knows about - so let's get it out of the way quickly, and then we can get onto the interesting stuff...

 

Charing Cross Station - and some bloke on a pillar.

Nelson's Column is such a major feature of the square that it's almost impossible to take a photo here and not include it. I suspect that, like me, many Londoners tend to take it rather for granted - just something for the tourists - but standing at the bottom of its 169ft 3in (18ft of which are the great man himself) you can't help but be impressed. The column and base are granite, the statue is sandstone, and the lions and panels on the pedestal are bronze - the latter being cast from cannons captured from the French fleet during the various battles they depict.

Landseer Lion

It is also the work of not one, but several different artists. While the overall design is that of William Railton, the statue was sculpted by Edward Baily and the lions by Edwin Landseer. The four bronze panels were by four more sculptors - Musgrave Watson, William F Woodington, John Ternouth and John Edward Carew.

Anyone who's ever had any building work done will at once appreciate that getting seven different sub-contractors to work together harmoniously is a far more impressive feat than sinking a few French ships, and as far as I'm concerned should merit a monument all of its own.

***
The rest of the square is hardly bereft of monuments, although some of the names are no longer familiar to anyone but scholars of naval and military history. George Washington is there, as are James II and George IV, but it is the statue that stands on the traffic island just to the south of the square that first draws my attention - though in fact, it's not the statue but the point it stands on that I'm interested in.

Charlie and Nellie

The statue is of Charles I - and was erected here in 1675, though it had been commissioned and made much earlier and been hidden from the Parliamentarians during the English Civil War. It stands on the site of an earlier monument - the Eleanor Cross - which had been placed there by King Edward I in memory of his queen - Eleanor of Carlisle. A replica of this cross now stands in front of the Charing Cross railway station on the strand.

However, the reason for my interest is that since the 18th Century the point now occupied by the statue of Charles I has marked the exact centre of London. All London Boroughs (and places beyond) are still defined by their distance from this spot, and for someone who is planning to visit most, if not all, of the capital, it's a place to take stock.

The exact centre of London - it's like standing at the North Pole (only a little warmer)

***

In the south-east corner of Trafalgar Square, largely ignored by the hundreds of tourists creating such immortal works of art as 'selfie with Lion', stands a little black door inserted into a column supporting an old lamp.

Through the windows you can, if you choose to look, see a couple of brooms and a bucket or two, and you would naturally (and correctly) assume that it is some sort of store-cupboard.

Britain's Smallest Police Station

What you may not realise, since as usual the powers-that-be have chosen largely to ignore this curiosity of British history, is that it is (or was) in fact a Police Station - the smallest in Britain, and quite possibly the world.

Trafalgar Square has long been the site chosen by demonstrators to voice their disgruntlement, and so in 1926, the Metropolitan Police installed this claustrophobic little sentry-box, so that officers (or rather one officer at a time) could keep an eye on any potential troublemakers. It had a direct telephone line to Scotland Yard, and apparently the light on top used to flash whenever this phone was used, so as to alert any nearby coppers, who would of course immediately rush to the aid of the poor mug who was stuck inside with a riot going on all around him...

***
Before leaving the Square and exploring a few of the surrounding streets, I wander to the north-east corner and the 'Fourth Plinth'.

Two phallic symbols
in one Square

The plinth, originally intended to hold an equestrian statue of William IV, has since 1998 been the site of various specially commissioned pieces of art. The current offering, 'Hahn/Cock' by Katharina Fritsch, is a visual and verbal response to the overtly male-centric posturing of the other monuments here. The German 'hahn', like the English word 'cock' has a phallic connotation as well as a farmyard one - and as the artist herself has stated, a woman creating something so overtly male is clearly a feminist statement, though one with a huge side-order of humour.
***

Bit of a one-sided
chat this Oscar

To the east of Trafalgar Square, round the back of St Martin-in-the-Fields church, is another monument - this time to a writer rather than a fighter.

'A Conversation With Oscar Wilde' was sculpted by Maggie Hambling in 1998 and is in the form of a seat (though a rather uncomfortable-looking one) so that passers-by can have a sit-down and a chat with the great 19th Century wit.

I ask him what he thinks England's chances are in the World Cup, but he doesn't seem to care very much so I move on.

Round the corner I think I might have stumbled across a slightly confused glamour model...

Really not sure what to make of this...

Fully dressed, and (shall we say) of a certain age - the woman certainly seems to be striking a pose, and (though I try not to look too closely) there does seem to be something in the nature of a thong around her lower-half. Is this an open-air brothel I've inadvertently walked into? Or is she posing for a modern-day Reubens (presumably hiding out of sight somewhere) who plans to artistically remove the clothing in his studio later...?


***
Back in the Square, and just before I head out to Chesham, I grab a coffee from the Costa on the first floor of Waterstones, and sipping it, I realise how much I like the arches and decorative panels on the pavement here.

I've seen them, walked on them, and ignored them a hundred times - so it's nice to stop and enjoy them for a few minutes.

And just for fun, in
Black & White too

Arches outside Waterstones

Finally, however, it's time to carry on with my journey - and once again I find myself heading out to the Chilterns, and to my next stop - Chesham.

 

 

***

Chesham is one of the various north-western termini on the Metropolitan Line. There's Uxbridge below it, Watford to one side, and between them on the map, both Amersham and Chesham - each nestling on its own little stretch of the line, which have diverged at one of the stations I visited the other day - Chalfont & Latimer.

I know from my advance research that Chesham is a market town, and being way out here in the Chilterns, is likely to be somewhat quieter than the bustling tourist trap I've just left.

I enjoy the journey though, and notice a couple of things for the first time.

Firstly, I don't recall being quite so impressed by the rolling countryside on my earlier visits to either Amersham or Chalfont & Latimer, and yet they're not that far away. Maybe I just wasn't looking, but shortly after leaving Chalfont & Latimer on the short branch-line to Chesham, the vista opens up and I get a fantastic view of hills, streams, trees, and general greeniness.

Passing through Chalfont & Latimer again so soon, gives me once more the sense that there's something a little odd about the place. This is exacerbated by the fact that of the half-dozen or so name-signs along the length of the platform, only one of them gives the station name as it appears on the tube map, i.e. 'Chalfont & Latimer' (with an ampersand), while all the others spell the word 'and' in full.

Curiouser and curiouser...

The second thing I notice on my way here is the fact that the Metropolitan Line doesn't have a single stop in Zone 3.

Now, at first glance this might not seem so unusual - after all, neither do the Circle Line or Waterloo & City Line. But they're unusual in that they don't (apart from a bit of the Circle Line) actually leave Zone 1. Every other line has stations in all of the Zones they pass through - except the Metropolitan.

It just skips over Zone 3 as if it weren't there.

There are stations - several of them - and the Jubilee Line which uses the same route stops at all of them between Finchley Road and Wembley Park, but the Metropolitan Line goes blithely by, ignoring them completely.

It really is very odd in this part of the world...

Chesham - the end of the line...

 Be that as it may, I arrive in the pretty little market town of Chesham and despite the gathering grey clouds, spend a pleasant hour or two wandering around its quiet streets.

Rather a quiet place...

The main shopping area is pedestrianized, with a clock tower at one end, a war memorial at the other, and the usual collection of shops in between.

Historically the town was apparently known for 'The Four Bs' - Boots, Beer, Brushes and Baptists - which were the main industries and religious affiliation of the place. But, despite enjoying the alphabetical bent of the epithet, I find little evidence of it, other than a couple of churches.

Stephen Fry spent his early years in Chesham before moving to Norfolk, and he writes in his first autobiography 'Moab Is My Washpot' of his brief time at Chesham Prep school. It was here that he broke his nose, giving it the distinctive deviation from the plumb that it maintains to this day.

He also returned here several years later, on the run from home, and stole a credit card from his friends' father's wallet - going on a spending spree that would shortly land him in prison.

Other notable residents have included Aneurin 'Nye' Bevan, D.H. Lawrence, and Guy Siner (who played the camp aide-de-camp Lieutenant Gruber in 'Allo 'Allo).

It's pleasant enough here, but like Amersham, and Little Chalfont, there's a sense of 'otherness' that leaves a stranger like me feeling out of place.

After a nondescript lunch in a Caffe Nero, I head back to the station, and leave (for the moment) this curious corner of the Metropolitan Line to its own devices. Perhaps one day I'll understand it, but perhaps not.

Perhaps, like Quantum Theory, or rap music, or a Tom Stoppard play, we're just not meant to understand it - but should simply accept it and move calmly and sensibly to the nearest exit...