'C Jam Blues'

Day 25

Crossharbour - Crouch Hill - Croxley

I have a confession, and an apology, to make.

I'm not proud of it, and I know I've let you down, but I'm afraid I've fallen back into a bad habit. It's been creeping back in for some time now, but it's only recently that I've really noticed it, and I hope it's not too late to put things right.

The truth is, I've been reading.

 

I know - I feel terrible - sorry.

 

I started this blog with the best of intentions. I prided myself on not being one of the silent majority who bury their heads in their Dan Browns or Sophie Kinsellas or sit glued to their tablets or smartphones.

 

I looked about me and observed my fellow passengers. I looked out of the window (even when we were underground - I was that dedicated) and I enjoyed the thought that I was seeing things with a fresh eye.

 

However as the weeks have gone by, I've become complacent. I felt I'd seen it all. I could just kill time by picking up a book.

 

'Kill time' - says it all really. How about, breathing life into time? How about giving time a nudge in the ribs and saying, come on - let's do something fun!

 

So, with a guilty conscience, and a new found resolve, I'm sitting on the tube today with my eyes wide open. Bring it on world!...

 

***

...Obviously the world is in a bit of a huff and isn't coming out to play today.

 

The journey to Bank, from where I'll catch the DLR to Crossharbour, is unremarkable. Admittedly most of it is underground on the Central Line, but my fellow travellers add very little to the experience. They're the usual mix of day-trippers (with additional children, since we're in summer holiday season) and office workers - not an eccentric pensioner or wildly-dressed tourist among them.

 

Having said that, I realise that I do always look forward to travelling on the DLR, with its elevated view and modern-feeling trains. So the last part of my journey does at least give me something to see out of the window.

 

***

Crossharbour lies pretty much slap-bang in the middle of The Isle Of Dogs, between Millwall Docks to the west and Cubitt Town to the east. (Cubitt Town, named after William Cubitt, the Lord Mayor of London between 1860 and 1862, was a centre for pottery, brick and cement production.)

 

Crossharbour

The station is on the rather uninspiring East Ferry Road, which is lined with tower blocks and offices. However, just a few minutes walk to the west toward the Millwall Docks, the area looks like it's been redeveloped - and fairly recently. There's a semi-pedestrianized shopping parade called Pepper Street, and at the end of this are the docks themselves - Millwall Inner Dock to the north, and Millwall Outer Dock to the south.

Millwall Inner Dock

Millwall Outer Dock

 

As well as providing mooring for several Dutch Barges, there's a pleasant walk around the perimeter and there's even a yachting club, which is currently keeping the local school-children occupied.

 

Yachting Club



Not sure you've quite got the hang of this...



 

Three Cranes

There are signs of the docks' former working life as it's still dominated by the cranes that used to offload the boats that arrived here from around the world, but the general feel is that of the rest of the Docklands Development - modern, clean and vibrant.

 

I'm intrigued by a couple of signposts I see, as I walk around the Outer Dock, pointing me to 'The Newspaper Education Trust'. I'd love to know what form this education takes, and who the pupils are. Is it a kind of 'Hogwarts' for journalists, where they can take classes in phone hacking in the morning and learn how to make bad puns in the afternoon?

 

Since I never actually find it I allow my imagination free reign, and it's only later, at home, that I discover that it was (until it closed down in 2009) a charity that gave children the opportunity to edit their own front page for the day. It operated for 15 years before the credit crunch got the better of it and forced it to close down.

 

I finish my stroll alongside the docks, and make my way back to the station.

 

***

I head back to Bank and then north to Crouch Hill via a convoluted route involving the Northern Line, Victoria Line, a bus, and my own two feet.

Crouch Hill

In contrast to the fresh-faced exuberance of Crossharbour, Crouch Hill seems rather tired and dilapidated. There's really not much to see or do here, unless you're in need of second-hand furniture, shellac-ed nails, or any of the various cuisines catered for by the numerous take-aways.

I give it a chance to surprise me, by walking up and down for ten minutes or so in search of anything unusual or noteworthy, but sadly it fails to provide.

Back on the road then, or rather the rails, to my next station - Croxley.

*** 

There's a bit of a delay, however, as in their wisdom Transport For London have a rather imaginative approach to time-tabling on the Metropolitan Line.

Croxley is the penultimate station on the Watford Branch of the line - the same line that heads out to places like Uxbridge, Amersham, and Chesham - and the Tube Map shows the Line as being continuous to all stations from Aldgate. A simple matter then, it would seem, to head down to King's Cross from Finsbury Park and then change to the Metropolitan Line there.

Well, yes, except that - for some reason - there are no trains from King's Cross to Watford between 11am and 4pm Monday to Friday. They'll happily provide trains to all the other destinations - oh yes - but Watford must have annoyed them somehow, so they're teaching it a lesson.

And of course, there's no obvious information announcing this fact to the unsuspecting traveller, who wastes a good half an hour waiting for a train that isn't coming...

Tsk! Those wily old tricksters at TFL, eh?

Eventually however (having finally worked out that I need to get to Baker Street to catch the train to Croxley) I'm on my way out of town to Hertfordshire, and enjoying the countryside views as I leave the Metropolis and head to Metroland.

***
Croxley Station is in Croxley Green - which I'm expecting to be another of the pretty little Market Towns that proliferate in this neck of the woods.

Croxley

The station certainly has that 'old-world' feel about it I've come to recognise, especially given the scarcity of trains. It sits on the main Watford Road running through Croxley Green, which has a smattering of shops opposite the station, but is otherwise mainly residential.

I wander for a few moments in either direction, in order to get my bearings and in the hope of finding the main shopping street, but all I can see is houses. Google Maps isn't much help, as it shows very few shops of any kind, and only a couple of pubs. I make a choice, and head west along the Watford Road, but there's nothing until I reach 'The Green' (presumably the same Green the area is named after) and a pub called 'The Artichoke' - where I decide to stop for lunch.

It's a nice place, and the food is good, and moreover I discover the reason for the local retail-vacuum. It appears that Croxley Green is not, in fact, a town or village as I had supposed, but is instead a suburb of Rickmansworth - which itself is not a huge place. The locals all head into 'Ricky' (as the landlady of The Artichoke' calls it) for their shopping, and indeed, anything else approaching fun and excitement.

That's not to say it isn't a pleasant place to walk - The Green is a wide expanse of grass bordering what is now quite a main road, and my walk back to the station takes me along 'New Road' (although most of the houses have dates on them from the 19th Century) where one or two shops - a Co-op and a butcher's - have managed to cling on to life.

It's been another day of stations spread far and wide, with lengthy journeys between them - not always with much reward awaiting me on my arrival. Still - every station I visit brings within sight of the finishing line of the 'Cs', and with any luck I should finish this section on my next trip out.

Until then, I'm homeward bound once again, and looking forward to putting my feet up.