Our little country railway halt (it used to be a full-blown station with sidings, a booking office and all the rest) stands on an embankment overlooking the river that marks the boundary between our county and the next. I arrived a little early as usual this morning so as to be able to switch to Plan B if there was nowhere to park. The work on the car park is now almost complete, so in addition to the half-dozen tarmac spaces and a length of muddy verge, there are now an extra thirty or so tarmacked and marked parking places. No ticket machines yet, though I'm sure it won't be long; but the fact that two-thirds of the spaces were empty suggests that they may have overdone it for the time being. Beautiful crisp morning, with a songthrush haranguing me and my two fellow passengers from a tree by the river. Treacherous black ice on the plaform, though, and the knobbly paving slabs (for the benefit of the visually impaired) were extremely slippery.
One of the reasons I use this station is that the line is cheaper than the main line, which is operated by a different franchisor. So it was a surprise when the conductor asked me for about 50% more than the web site had led me to expect. Eventually, the penny dropped - I hadn't mentioned my old-geezer discount card. It's a moot point whether I get the railcard subscription back, but it does save me £5-7 pounds (depending on the line I choose) over the standard fare, so I'm ahead of the game if I do four or five London returns in the year. My meeting today was in Fitzrovia, so I got the bus from Trafalgar Square to Warren Street and back, and got an upstairs front seat in each direction. It's a good, if slow, way to see a bit of London on a fine day. Sometimes if I have time to spare I take a train into the suburbs and do the rest of the journey by bus. I'm not a huge fan of the Underground, and it's particularly loathesome at busy times. Granted, it has improved vastly in terms of cleanliness and frequency in recent years. But it can't compete with the bus pass!
On the way back to Charing Cross, the bus goes down Gower Street. Back in the 1920s and 30s, that's where my father would go to buy and sell his cars. Dad and his friends would drive down on the Friday night, wheel and deal on the Saturday, then head back up to Scotland with their new purchase on the Saturday night or Sunday. Even in my earlyish London days, the Aldwych was the place to go to buy or sell a motor caravan. A largely Australian seller population would gather there at the end of their European tours and attempt to flog beat-up Type 2 VW campers after they'd thrashed them the length and breadth of Europe, often to the next wave of impoverished young Australian tourists. Not now, of course, with almost total parking restrictions and the congestion charge. Also much changed, of course, is the London skyline. As the train comes into London Bridge, you get a fine view of the latest vast office block going up. The Shard is now finished, and the Gherkin is practically a heritage landmark now. One intriguing-looking building is going up at the moment, gradually curving outwards from the vertical on the side facing the river. Don't think I'd fancy that a whole lot. Nor the vertiginous upper reaches of the Shard - but if any of you would like to make me a present of one or two of the apartments up there from the 65th floor on, I'd not say no.
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