Day 86
Temple - Theydon Bois - Tooting Bec - Tooting Broadway - Tottenham Court Road
So here we go - another letter of the alphabet gets under way!
Before I get into the day's travelling, however, I'm going to share something with you which - though a bit geeky - gave me a bit of a frisson of excitement when I put it together.
In order to keep track of my progress, I've naturally had all of the stations written on a list (alphabetically as they appear on the back of the pocket tube maps) and have been ticking them off one by one as I visit them.
So far so obvious - but in addition, to give me a more visual representation of how I'm doing, I recently decided to create an electronic version of the map, and to blank out all the stations I've visited (including today's).
And here it is...
Wow.
That's a lot emptier than when I started, and looking far more do-able!
I'm particularly pleased to see that there are whole sections or branches of the network that have no more stations left to visit on them. So, for example, I don't need to go back to the Heathrow branch of the Piccadilly Line, the Richmond branch of the District line, the Edgware branch of the Northern, or the Beckton branch of the DLR. There's definitely a sense of achievement at seeing long stretches of lines entirely bereft of stations.
There are now more empty sections of the map than there are full ones, and in fact some lines are very close to being completely finished. There are only four stations left on the whole Bakerloo line, for example, and only one on the Waterloo and City line!
You know I think I might just be able to do this...
***
Today we start off with a bit of historic London.
I know pretty much every bit of London has some historic significance attached to it, and many have at least one or two ancient buildings tucked away behind the office blocks and supermarkets, but here at Temple the history fairly screams at you from every corner.
There are offices and shops here, of course, but on the whole they've been incorporated into the several-hundred-year-old buildings, rather than brashly elbowing them out of the way as they do in other parts of town.
Temple station - and the indeed the whole area - is named after the 'Temple Church', to which I'll come in a little while. First though, since it's right next to me, I take a couple of minutes to visit the river just south of the station on Victoria Embankment.
It's a typical busy day on the river, with tourist cruisers and working boats chugging long side by side.
To my right is Waterloo Bridge, with Westminster in the background, and across the river from me is the National Theatre and what looks like a forest of construction cranes towering above both it and its neighbours.
But that's the modern face of London - I'm about to head to somewhere much older.
The area known as Temple stretches east from the station almost as far as Blackfriars Bridge, and is bordered to the north by the Strand and Fleet Street. It is divided roughly in half to form Middle Temple to the west and Inner Temple to the east.
In the middle sits the Temple Church, and - though there are a few other things to show you before we get there - it's probably best to explain its history before we delve into the narrow passageways and venerable buildings of the wider area.
It was built in the 12th Century by the order of the Knights Templar as their English Headquarters, though their name actually comes from Solomon's Temple in Jerusalem. After the abolition of the order in the 14th Century, the Temple passed into the possession of King Edward II and was eventually passed on to two colleges of lawyers, who moved in to separate sets of buildings but shared the use of the church. The two colleges of lawyers, and the separate buildings they inhabited, became known as two of London's four Inns of Court - Inner Temple and Middle Temple. The Inns of Court - where traditionally all barristers have lodged, trained and practiced - have remained here ever since.
My first view - entering the western edge of Middle Temple from Temple Place - is of the rear of Middle Temple Hall.
Way back on Day 58, while visiting the replica of the Golden Hinde near London Bridge, I mentioned in passing that I had appeared in a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream here at Middle Temple Hall, so I'm familiar enough with the building.
It's closed to the public today, unfortunately, so I can't take any photos of the elaborate interior, but I can assure you that - as the venue that saw the first recorded performance of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night - it is a uniquely atmospheric place. It is where all the formal dinners for the Inn of Court are held, and its wood panelling, beamed roof and huge portraits lining the walls are positively dripping with history.
Heading gradually east through the cobbled streets, and covered passages, I come eventually to the Temple Church itself.
The original church was just the round section at the western end, but the rest was added only 50 years or so later. It was in the gardens of this church that (according to Shakespeare at least) the opposing houses of York and Lancaster first plucked their respective white and red roses, thus signalling the beginning of the Wars of the Roses. It has survived both the Fire of London and the Blitz, though it has had some renovation and rebuilding over the centuries.
Outside the church is a column topped with a representation of a Knight Templar, though how old this is I can't say.
The normal entrance to the church is through a door on the southern side, but the main entrance - and the one through which the original initiates hoping to join the Knights Templar would have passed at dawn - is on the original western end of the round church.
This is very ornate and - like everything else around here - seems to speak of its long and complex history.
From the Temple Church I now head north, out of the Temple grounds, and onto two of London's best known streets (at least, to anyone who's ever played Monopoly) - first Fleet Street and then west onto the Strand.
Fleet Street is probably best known for two things - it was the former home of most of the British press, before it all moved out to Wapping in the 1980s, and it was also the home (in legend at least) of the fictitious 'demon barber' Sweeney Todd.
The legal profession seems to have taken over from the newspapers in most of the buildings, with the majority of them now containing solicitors' offices - those that haven't been turned into pubs or coffee shops that is.
Walking eastwards to the Strand, the legal connection continues, as I stand opposite the entrance to the Royal Courts of Justice. This is where both the 'High Court' and the 'Court of Appeal' are located, which deal with anything from business law and administrative matters to adoption or divorce proceedings.
Further west still is the church of St. Clement Danes, which - to me at least - is less interesting in itself than for the statues that stand outside it. Originally founded by the Danish in the 9th Century, the current church dates from the 17th Century and was built by Sir Christopher Wren.
It is now the central church of the Royal Air Force.
There are, as I have mentioned, various statues outside the church. At one end is Samuel Johnson, who lived just north of Fleet Street, and wrote his famous dictionary there.
At the other end - to the front of the church - are various figures. Two of them are related to the Air Force, though I only recognise the name of one of them - Air Chief Marshall Sir Arthur "Bomber" Harris.
He was the Commander-in-Chief of Bomber Command during WWII and was convinced of the efficacy of 'area bombing' - the bombing of whole cities rather than purely military or industrial facilities. The most famous - and perhaps controversial - of these bombing raids, was the bombing of Dresden in 1945, in which between 23,000 and 25,000 people were killed.
Continuing along the Strand in the direction of Waterloo Bridge, I come to one of London's disused tube stations - though unlike many, the entrance to this one is at least still fairly obvious, even if its name is not.
Despite the signs clearly visible on the front, Strand Station isn't actually Strand Station at all, but Aldwych Station.
It started life as 'Strand' in 1908, but was renamed in 1915 as a result of the very confusing name changes going on at the other end of the road, which - as you may recall - I went into a very detailed explanation of when visiting Charing Cross.
The station closed in 1993 but the platforms and tracks are still accessible, and are now used as a film set, standing in for pretty much any other station as and when required.
Just before Waterloo Bridge is Somerset House, originally a Tudor palace and home to Queen Elizabeth I (before she actually became Queen) but later remodelled and improved in the 17th and 18th Centuries.
Designed as a 'national building' the new Somerset House was designed by Sir William Chambers in 1776 (though not completed until 1819). It housed many public offices, such as the 'Salt Office', 'Navy Office', 'Stamp Office', 'Tax Office' and so on, and in later years was the repository of all Birth, Marriage and Death certificates in England and Wales (until these were moved elsewhere, and online versions made available).
Waterloo Bridge is just around the corner, and of course I'll be seeing this from the other side of the river when I visit Waterloo Station itself, so rather than crossing it, I descend the steps leading down to the Embankment beneath, and head back towards Temple Station.
I've one final curiosity to see before I get there though, if at all possible, and that's up a small side alley called Strand Lane.
At the top end of this, behind an anonymous arched window, is the so-called "Roman Bath" - 'so-called' because in all probability they are nothing of the kind, but are instead a 17th Century cistern that provided water to a fountain in the grounds of the old Somerset House.
Although it's a National Trust property, and there's a sign outside giving a bit of the history of the 'Bath', it isn't what you'd call a typical 'tourist attraction'.
You can only visit the inside of the building by prior arrangement (and seemingly only as part of a group).
Instead, your average interested passer-by has to press the light-switch on the exterior wall to turn on the timer-controlled lights inside, then crouch down to try and peer through the pretty grimy panes of glass forming the lower half of the arched window.
Even then, all you can really see is a bit of brickwork around a rectangular pit in the gloomy interior.
I attempt to take a photo for your benefit, the result of which is the pretty poor effort shown here. What with the dim light, the grubby window, and the reflection of my own two legs getting in the way no matter what angle I tilt my camera to, it's the best I can do I'm afraid.
And that's it for Temple - at least as far as today's visit goes. There's so much history here that it would be impossible to cover it all in one go, and I have other stations I need to see. So, having barely scratched the surface, I move on to my next destination.
***
And it has to be one of the most eccentrically named stations on the whole tube map.
Theydon Bois (pronounced "Boys") gets its name from the 'de Bosco' or 'Bois' family who owned the manor house here in the 12th and 13th Centuries. The 'Bois' part has had various spellings over the years but apparently its current spelling (which, as you may know, also means 'forest' in French) was officially settled on thanks to its proximity to Epping Forest.
It's a mainly residential, and very picturesque, village next to the Forest and the last station before Epping on the Central Line.
It's also a little quirky (even for rural England) in that it is almost entirely devoid of any form of street lighting. Apparently the local residents feel that to introduce this would detract from the 'village-y' feel of the place, which may be true - but it must be an eerie place to wander around late at night...
It has a large village green, and this has an impressive avenue of trees cutting across it, which were apparently planted to celebrate Queen Victoria coming to the throne. Some of these are now, sadly, at the end of their lives and a new line of trees has been planted parallel to the current ones, which will eventually take over.
It's not an especially big or exciting place - it's a village after all - but that's actually it's charm. As well as the green, there's a short shopping street and a couple of pubs, and that's about it. On the other hand, it is connected - however remotely - directly to the centre of London via the tube, and it therefore feels less like somewhere remote and cut-off, and more like a friendly and enthusiastic puppy being let out on a very long lead...
All of which fanciful stuff brings me to the end of my time here, as I head back to the station and on to my next two destinations.
***
Ok, so it's really one destination, with two stations in it. The place is Tooting, and the stations are Tooting Bec - to the north - and Tooting Broadway - to the south. Both stations were designed by Charles Holden, and both opened in 1926 as part of the Morden extension.
In complete contrast with the rural idyll I've just left, Tooting is very much part of the hustle and bustle of London and - though the two stations aren't especially close to each other - their environs are pretty much of a muchness.
I start (of course) with Tooting Bec, which is about a kilometre north of Tooting Broadway on the Upper Tooting Road.
The name 'Bec' comes from the 'Abbey Of Our Lady Of Bec' in Normandy, which owned this land following the Norman Conquest - not that there's much evidence of French influence these days. Instead there's a mixture of ethnicities, including a large Muslim community. London's current Mayor - Sadiq Khan - was MP for Tooting before his assumption of office.
Having looked up the area in advance, I know that - other than the shops on this road - the main things I want to try and have a look at are Tooting Bec Common and Tooting Bec Lido, both of which are to the east of this station.
So, I could either head there first, and then south to Tooting Broadway, or - and this seems to make more sense - get both stations under my belt, and then visit the 'sights' afterwards.
This is what I decide to do, and I walk the fifteen minutes or so down to the second of Tooting's stations.
Tooting Broadway feels much more like the 'centre' of things in Tooting. It's busier, for a start, with more shops and cafés, and a statue of Edward VII outside the station gives it a slightly grander air than its neighbour to the north.
I stop for lunch - briefly - but other than taking a photo of His Majesty, there's not a lot else in the immediate vicinity to keep me here for long.
And so I head north again, or rather north-east, to bring me to Tooting Bec Common, and the Lido that it holds.
I've been calling it Tooting Bec Common but actually there are two Commons here that have been joined together. Tooting Bec Common forms the north-eastern half, and Tooting Graveney Common the south-western half. Together they are properly known as Tooting Commons.
The Lido opened in 1906, and is one of Britains oldest open air pools.
It is of course a sad fact of modern life that, were I to spend too long standing outside the railings pointing my camera at all the children happily splashing away inside, I would instantly be branded a child-molesting monster, rather than an innocent passer-by trying to capture the essence of a British institution for the purposes of a (hopefully) enlightening and informative travel blog.
I'm therefore forced to settle for the hurriedly snapped photo of the entrance above, and the following colourful, if fairly uninstructive, image of the backs of some of the changing cubicles.
And that's it for Tooting.
Well, almost.
Back at the station I notice - while waiting for my train back northwards - the clock above the platform.
It bears the name of the 'Self Winding Clock Company' of New York, and is an example of their electromechanical clocks, whose winding mechanism is powered by battery rather than by hand.
In this digital age, that might sound an obvious, and now old-fashioned, mechanism, but when it was first introduced in the late nineteenth Century it was a real innovation.
Prior to this, all clocks had to be wound by hand, which meant that someone had to remember to do so. And if they forgot, the clock would no longer be accurate. 'Exact Time' had become a commodity to be bought and sold as much as anything else, thanks to the increased accuracy of Observatories' equipment and the ability to transmit the current time via Telegraph around the world.
Railways in particular recognised the need for accurate, synchronised time, both for efficiency and safety, and the Self Winding Clock Company made clocks for stations across the world - including Grand Central Station in New York, and - of course - the London Underground.
***
As I'm borne slowly upwards by the escalator to the entrance of my next station - Tottenham Court Road - I'm surprised at the large crowd gathered in the doorways. This is unnaturally busy, even for a Friday afternoon in Central London.
At first I wonder whether there's a parade or something going on outside, but the reason soon becomes apparent, and unfortunately it's nothing so exciting.
Despite leaving Tooting in warm weather and sunshine, I emerge from Tottenham Court Road into a torrential downpour.
I'm not the only one huddling in the station entrance who is ill-prepared - clothing-wise - for this weather, and there are many using newspapers and carrier bags as improvised umbrellas.
I don't mind the rain itself - it's actually quite refreshing - but it isn't very camera-friendly and photography tends to get a bit awkward in weather like this.
I dash across the street to another crowded doorway, in order to get a photo of the station, wondering how long the rain is likely to last, and whether I can still salvage anything from this visit.
Luckily, there's a large multi-storey bookshop just south of the station on Charing Cross Road, and if there's one place I can happily while away a pleasant half-hour or more, it's in a bookshop.
This one is Foyle's Bookshop - which has long been a feature of Charing Cross Road, though it has recently moved slightly north of its original location.
Thankfully, the rain doesn't last all that long, and I can head outside again to have a look around the Tottenham Court Road area.
I mentioned when I visited South Tottenham that the 'Tottenham' of this road is not the same as the 'Tottenham' of the north London Borough. To re-iterate, there was a manor house (the 'Court') at the top of what is now Tottenham Court Road in the 13th Century, owned by a certain William de Tottenhall - and it's from this that the road gets its name.
The road runs north from the station (which is at the crossroads with Oxford Street), with Charing Cross Road running south from it. Tottenham Court Road itself has long been a centre for electronics shops, whereas Charing Cross Road is more famous for its many and various bookshops, including the famous - though sadly long-gone - Marks & Co, more commonly known by their address: 84, Charing Cross Road.
The major landmark that dominates the area is the 33-story tower known as Centre Point.
This is a 1960s construction that is the tallest building in this part of town. It was built as office space by property developer Harry Hyams, despite the fact that at the time of construction (and for several years afterwards) no-one was actually interested in moving into it. It stood empty until 1975.
The problem was that for some reason, Hyams was only interested in leasing it in its entirety to a single company, rather than on a floor-by-floor basis. He stubbornly refused all requests to lease individual floors, causing anger among some who felt that it could be used to alleviate London's housing problems at the time.
Today it's a Grade II Listed building, and has - in recent years - been converted into luxury flats, no doubt sending Mr Hyams spinning in his grave....
And that's your lot for today boys and girls.
I've well and truly broken the back of the 'Ts' and with any luck I'll only need two more trips out before I'm on to the next letter. So, until next time - toodle-pip!
Before I get into the day's travelling, however, I'm going to share something with you which - though a bit geeky - gave me a bit of a frisson of excitement when I put it together.
In order to keep track of my progress, I've naturally had all of the stations written on a list (alphabetically as they appear on the back of the pocket tube maps) and have been ticking them off one by one as I visit them.
So far so obvious - but in addition, to give me a more visual representation of how I'm doing, I recently decided to create an electronic version of the map, and to blank out all the stations I've visited (including today's).
And here it is...
 |
| That's a lot of London I've already crossed off! |
Wow.
That's a lot emptier than when I started, and looking far more do-able!
I'm particularly pleased to see that there are whole sections or branches of the network that have no more stations left to visit on them. So, for example, I don't need to go back to the Heathrow branch of the Piccadilly Line, the Richmond branch of the District line, the Edgware branch of the Northern, or the Beckton branch of the DLR. There's definitely a sense of achievement at seeing long stretches of lines entirely bereft of stations.
There are now more empty sections of the map than there are full ones, and in fact some lines are very close to being completely finished. There are only four stations left on the whole Bakerloo line, for example, and only one on the Waterloo and City line!
You know I think I might just be able to do this...
***
Today we start off with a bit of historic London.
I know pretty much every bit of London has some historic significance attached to it, and many have at least one or two ancient buildings tucked away behind the office blocks and supermarkets, but here at Temple the history fairly screams at you from every corner.
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| Temple |
There are offices and shops here, of course, but on the whole they've been incorporated into the several-hundred-year-old buildings, rather than brashly elbowing them out of the way as they do in other parts of town.
Temple station - and the indeed the whole area - is named after the 'Temple Church', to which I'll come in a little while. First though, since it's right next to me, I take a couple of minutes to visit the river just south of the station on Victoria Embankment.
It's a typical busy day on the river, with tourist cruisers and working boats chugging long side by side.
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| Waterloo Bridge |
To my right is Waterloo Bridge, with Westminster in the background, and across the river from me is the National Theatre and what looks like a forest of construction cranes towering above both it and its neighbours.
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| Cranes at work |
But that's the modern face of London - I'm about to head to somewhere much older.
The area known as Temple stretches east from the station almost as far as Blackfriars Bridge, and is bordered to the north by the Strand and Fleet Street. It is divided roughly in half to form Middle Temple to the west and Inner Temple to the east.
In the middle sits the Temple Church, and - though there are a few other things to show you before we get there - it's probably best to explain its history before we delve into the narrow passageways and venerable buildings of the wider area.
It was built in the 12th Century by the order of the Knights Templar as their English Headquarters, though their name actually comes from Solomon's Temple in Jerusalem. After the abolition of the order in the 14th Century, the Temple passed into the possession of King Edward II and was eventually passed on to two colleges of lawyers, who moved in to separate sets of buildings but shared the use of the church. The two colleges of lawyers, and the separate buildings they inhabited, became known as two of London's four Inns of Court - Inner Temple and Middle Temple. The Inns of Court - where traditionally all barristers have lodged, trained and practiced - have remained here ever since.
My first view - entering the western edge of Middle Temple from Temple Place - is of the rear of Middle Temple Hall.
 |
| Middle Temple Hall, and surrounding chambers |
Way back on Day 58, while visiting the replica of the Golden Hinde near London Bridge, I mentioned in passing that I had appeared in a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream here at Middle Temple Hall, so I'm familiar enough with the building.
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| Middle Temple Hall - main entrance |
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| On the way to the church |
Heading gradually east through the cobbled streets, and covered passages, I come eventually to the Temple Church itself.
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| Temple Church |
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| A Knight Templar |
Outside the church is a column topped with a representation of a Knight Templar, though how old this is I can't say.
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| Western Entrance |
This is very ornate and - like everything else around here - seems to speak of its long and complex history.
From the Temple Church I now head north, out of the Temple grounds, and onto two of London's best known streets (at least, to anyone who's ever played Monopoly) - first Fleet Street and then west onto the Strand.
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| Fleet Street |
Fleet Street is probably best known for two things - it was the former home of most of the British press, before it all moved out to Wapping in the 1980s, and it was also the home (in legend at least) of the fictitious 'demon barber' Sweeney Todd.
The legal profession seems to have taken over from the newspapers in most of the buildings, with the majority of them now containing solicitors' offices - those that haven't been turned into pubs or coffee shops that is.
Walking eastwards to the Strand, the legal connection continues, as I stand opposite the entrance to the Royal Courts of Justice. This is where both the 'High Court' and the 'Court of Appeal' are located, which deal with anything from business law and administrative matters to adoption or divorce proceedings.
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| Royal Courts of Justice |
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| Samuel Johnson |
It is now the central church of the Royal Air Force.
There are, as I have mentioned, various statues outside the church. At one end is Samuel Johnson, who lived just north of Fleet Street, and wrote his famous dictionary there.
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| "Bomber" Harris |
He was the Commander-in-Chief of Bomber Command during WWII and was convinced of the efficacy of 'area bombing' - the bombing of whole cities rather than purely military or industrial facilities. The most famous - and perhaps controversial - of these bombing raids, was the bombing of Dresden in 1945, in which between 23,000 and 25,000 people were killed.
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| Strand Station |
Despite the signs clearly visible on the front, Strand Station isn't actually Strand Station at all, but Aldwych Station.
It started life as 'Strand' in 1908, but was renamed in 1915 as a result of the very confusing name changes going on at the other end of the road, which - as you may recall - I went into a very detailed explanation of when visiting Charing Cross.
The station closed in 1993 but the platforms and tracks are still accessible, and are now used as a film set, standing in for pretty much any other station as and when required.
Just before Waterloo Bridge is Somerset House, originally a Tudor palace and home to Queen Elizabeth I (before she actually became Queen) but later remodelled and improved in the 17th and 18th Centuries.
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| Somerset House - courtyard |
Designed as a 'national building' the new Somerset House was designed by Sir William Chambers in 1776 (though not completed until 1819). It housed many public offices, such as the 'Salt Office', 'Navy Office', 'Stamp Office', 'Tax Office' and so on, and in later years was the repository of all Birth, Marriage and Death certificates in England and Wales (until these were moved elsewhere, and online versions made available).
Waterloo Bridge is just around the corner, and of course I'll be seeing this from the other side of the river when I visit Waterloo Station itself, so rather than crossing it, I descend the steps leading down to the Embankment beneath, and head back towards Temple Station.
I've one final curiosity to see before I get there though, if at all possible, and that's up a small side alley called Strand Lane.
At the top end of this, behind an anonymous arched window, is the so-called "Roman Bath" - 'so-called' because in all probability they are nothing of the kind, but are instead a 17th Century cistern that provided water to a fountain in the grounds of the old Somerset House.
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| The "Roman Bath" |
Although it's a National Trust property, and there's a sign outside giving a bit of the history of the 'Bath', it isn't what you'd call a typical 'tourist attraction'.
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| Information outside the 'bath' |
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| View through the window |
Instead, your average interested passer-by has to press the light-switch on the exterior wall to turn on the timer-controlled lights inside, then crouch down to try and peer through the pretty grimy panes of glass forming the lower half of the arched window.
Even then, all you can really see is a bit of brickwork around a rectangular pit in the gloomy interior.
I attempt to take a photo for your benefit, the result of which is the pretty poor effort shown here. What with the dim light, the grubby window, and the reflection of my own two legs getting in the way no matter what angle I tilt my camera to, it's the best I can do I'm afraid.
And that's it for Temple - at least as far as today's visit goes. There's so much history here that it would be impossible to cover it all in one go, and I have other stations I need to see. So, having barely scratched the surface, I move on to my next destination.
***
And it has to be one of the most eccentrically named stations on the whole tube map.
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| Theydon Bois |
Theydon Bois (pronounced "Boys") gets its name from the 'de Bosco' or 'Bois' family who owned the manor house here in the 12th and 13th Centuries. The 'Bois' part has had various spellings over the years but apparently its current spelling (which, as you may know, also means 'forest' in French) was officially settled on thanks to its proximity to Epping Forest.
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| Village Green |
It's a mainly residential, and very picturesque, village next to the Forest and the last station before Epping on the Central Line.
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| Duck Pond |
It's also a little quirky (even for rural England) in that it is almost entirely devoid of any form of street lighting. Apparently the local residents feel that to introduce this would detract from the 'village-y' feel of the place, which may be true - but it must be an eerie place to wander around late at night...
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| Avenue on the Green |
It has a large village green, and this has an impressive avenue of trees cutting across it, which were apparently planted to celebrate Queen Victoria coming to the throne. Some of these are now, sadly, at the end of their lives and a new line of trees has been planted parallel to the current ones, which will eventually take over.
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| Forest Drive - the 'main' street |
It's not an especially big or exciting place - it's a village after all - but that's actually it's charm. As well as the green, there's a short shopping street and a couple of pubs, and that's about it. On the other hand, it is connected - however remotely - directly to the centre of London via the tube, and it therefore feels less like somewhere remote and cut-off, and more like a friendly and enthusiastic puppy being let out on a very long lead...
All of which fanciful stuff brings me to the end of my time here, as I head back to the station and on to my next two destinations.
***
Ok, so it's really one destination, with two stations in it. The place is Tooting, and the stations are Tooting Bec - to the north - and Tooting Broadway - to the south. Both stations were designed by Charles Holden, and both opened in 1926 as part of the Morden extension.
In complete contrast with the rural idyll I've just left, Tooting is very much part of the hustle and bustle of London and - though the two stations aren't especially close to each other - their environs are pretty much of a muchness.
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| Tooting Bec |
I start (of course) with Tooting Bec, which is about a kilometre north of Tooting Broadway on the Upper Tooting Road.
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| Upper Tooting Road |
Having looked up the area in advance, I know that - other than the shops on this road - the main things I want to try and have a look at are Tooting Bec Common and Tooting Bec Lido, both of which are to the east of this station.
So, I could either head there first, and then south to Tooting Broadway, or - and this seems to make more sense - get both stations under my belt, and then visit the 'sights' afterwards.
This is what I decide to do, and I walk the fifteen minutes or so down to the second of Tooting's stations.
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| Tooting Broadway |
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| Edward VII |
I stop for lunch - briefly - but other than taking a photo of His Majesty, there's not a lot else in the immediate vicinity to keep me here for long.
And so I head north again, or rather north-east, to bring me to Tooting Bec Common, and the Lido that it holds.
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| Tooting Common(s) |
I've been calling it Tooting Bec Common but actually there are two Commons here that have been joined together. Tooting Bec Common forms the north-eastern half, and Tooting Graveney Common the south-western half. Together they are properly known as Tooting Commons.
The Lido opened in 1906, and is one of Britains oldest open air pools.
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| Tooting Bec Lido |
It is of course a sad fact of modern life that, were I to spend too long standing outside the railings pointing my camera at all the children happily splashing away inside, I would instantly be branded a child-molesting monster, rather than an innocent passer-by trying to capture the essence of a British institution for the purposes of a (hopefully) enlightening and informative travel blog.
I'm therefore forced to settle for the hurriedly snapped photo of the entrance above, and the following colourful, if fairly uninstructive, image of the backs of some of the changing cubicles.
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| The outside wall |
And that's it for Tooting.
Well, almost.
Back at the station I notice - while waiting for my train back northwards - the clock above the platform.
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| Self Winding Clock |
It bears the name of the 'Self Winding Clock Company' of New York, and is an example of their electromechanical clocks, whose winding mechanism is powered by battery rather than by hand.
In this digital age, that might sound an obvious, and now old-fashioned, mechanism, but when it was first introduced in the late nineteenth Century it was a real innovation.
Prior to this, all clocks had to be wound by hand, which meant that someone had to remember to do so. And if they forgot, the clock would no longer be accurate. 'Exact Time' had become a commodity to be bought and sold as much as anything else, thanks to the increased accuracy of Observatories' equipment and the ability to transmit the current time via Telegraph around the world.
Railways in particular recognised the need for accurate, synchronised time, both for efficiency and safety, and the Self Winding Clock Company made clocks for stations across the world - including Grand Central Station in New York, and - of course - the London Underground.
***
As I'm borne slowly upwards by the escalator to the entrance of my next station - Tottenham Court Road - I'm surprised at the large crowd gathered in the doorways. This is unnaturally busy, even for a Friday afternoon in Central London.
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| Busy 'ere innit? |
At first I wonder whether there's a parade or something going on outside, but the reason soon becomes apparent, and unfortunately it's nothing so exciting.
Despite leaving Tooting in warm weather and sunshine, I emerge from Tottenham Court Road into a torrential downpour.
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| Tottenham Court Road |
I'm not the only one huddling in the station entrance who is ill-prepared - clothing-wise - for this weather, and there are many using newspapers and carrier bags as improvised umbrellas.
I don't mind the rain itself - it's actually quite refreshing - but it isn't very camera-friendly and photography tends to get a bit awkward in weather like this.
I dash across the street to another crowded doorway, in order to get a photo of the station, wondering how long the rain is likely to last, and whether I can still salvage anything from this visit.
Luckily, there's a large multi-storey bookshop just south of the station on Charing Cross Road, and if there's one place I can happily while away a pleasant half-hour or more, it's in a bookshop.
This one is Foyle's Bookshop - which has long been a feature of Charing Cross Road, though it has recently moved slightly north of its original location.
Thankfully, the rain doesn't last all that long, and I can head outside again to have a look around the Tottenham Court Road area.
I mentioned when I visited South Tottenham that the 'Tottenham' of this road is not the same as the 'Tottenham' of the north London Borough. To re-iterate, there was a manor house (the 'Court') at the top of what is now Tottenham Court Road in the 13th Century, owned by a certain William de Tottenhall - and it's from this that the road gets its name.
The road runs north from the station (which is at the crossroads with Oxford Street), with Charing Cross Road running south from it. Tottenham Court Road itself has long been a centre for electronics shops, whereas Charing Cross Road is more famous for its many and various bookshops, including the famous - though sadly long-gone - Marks & Co, more commonly known by their address: 84, Charing Cross Road.
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| Centre Point |
This is a 1960s construction that is the tallest building in this part of town. It was built as office space by property developer Harry Hyams, despite the fact that at the time of construction (and for several years afterwards) no-one was actually interested in moving into it. It stood empty until 1975.
The problem was that for some reason, Hyams was only interested in leasing it in its entirety to a single company, rather than on a floor-by-floor basis. He stubbornly refused all requests to lease individual floors, causing anger among some who felt that it could be used to alleviate London's housing problems at the time.
Today it's a Grade II Listed building, and has - in recent years - been converted into luxury flats, no doubt sending Mr Hyams spinning in his grave....
And that's your lot for today boys and girls.
I've well and truly broken the back of the 'Ts' and with any luck I'll only need two more trips out before I'm on to the next letter. So, until next time - toodle-pip!
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