London Transport

London lament :-(
Yes, I'm having a brief grumble about my chosen place of habitat....
London.
Or rather London Transport.
I grew up on the Misery Line, that's the Northern Line to you foreigners.
But I loved it.
I never felt let down by the tube.
It started early and finished late, sometimes later.
As for buses, what could be better then a slow ride across London Town, taking in all the sights on the way to work.
And the night buses saved me many a time when I was a 'bit' younger after a night out clubbing.
We, en masse, would make our way down to Trafalgar Square, hoards of the youth of North London, finding our own personal bus home.
I have so many fond memories of wending my way home in the wee hours of the morning, turning the key in the door, creeping in and up to my room, not wanting to wake the parents. Going to bed as the sun is starting to rise and the dawn chorus is beginning to sing, has it's own particular sort of magic.
But last night I felt failed by London's wonderful transport service.
I had to walk along a busy road, round the corner and there is the bus stop. But what is so unfair, is that every time I do this journey, the bus (no matter what time I arrive) goes past the corner just as I'm getting to it.
This was last night's scenario.
Except that I ended up sitting there for a further half an hour, much to my chagrin.
It's amazing the array of different people that went past me at that time of night.
Older couples coming back from the theatre, young gaggles of girls drunk on too much 'whatever', looking barely legal. A father and son, same in profile, both chewing gum.
Finally, along came my bus.
I sat down and closed my eyes, knowing that I had a way to go, my bed getting ever closer.

2009 KINDNESS of STRANGERS TOUR a la lulu

....before....

Most people come to London via an airport or major train station. They visit us with eyes wide open and cameras at the ready.

I think that tourists love to feel that they have discovered a little bit of London that no-one else has seen, at least not in the last 5 minutes.

So in writing this post, I will attempt to take you to a part of London that I hold very dear to me.

It is a place that I call home of my heart.

I have lived many places, but this would be, as Paul Young once sang, "wherever I lay my hat, that's my home".

Many little villages of old, like Highgate, all grew together to make up the city that we now call London.

To find it, either hop on the Northern Line tube, nicknamed 'the misery line' and black in colour, or just head due north from Centre Point, for about 6 miles.

It's up hill all the way, in fact the top of Highgate is level with the top of St. Paul's Cathedral (apparently).

Highgate is one of those wonderful areas in London that still retains its village feel. The high street still feels traditional, no mass market shops, just little boutiques, some of which have been there for centuries.

It is also a village filled with pubs. As a teenager, I was told that it had 26 public houses within a one-mile square radius - not sure how true that is, so if you find out, let me know.

Apart from it's quaintness, it's Public schools and many pubs, the one thing that seems to attract the most visitors is it's cemetery.

Highgate Cemetery is filled to it's brim with amazing people, Karl Marx and Sir Ralph Richardson to name but two of it's residents. It's West Cemetery was opened in 1839, with the newer East Cemetery opening in 1854. The old part is fascinating, as it has the Egyptian Avenue and the Lebanon Circle.

It also has catacombs. Or should I say.....The Catacombs.

When I was a rebellious teenager, I was persuaded by so-called friends to climb over the walls with them one Halloween.

Oh what a fool I was back then.

A very scared fool.

There was probably about 8 of us and we crept through the dark, dank night, close to midnight, down into the catacombs.

Things whispered, rattled, little creatures ran through the undergrowth, eerie sounds echoed through the night.

This was not fun.

Something made us all jump and scream and with that, we all scarpered as fast as our legs could carry us.

I am definitely not recommending that as a tourist you attempt this, but a day-time visit with one of the very friendly tour-guides is a must for any happy visitor.

After which, a walk back up Swains Lane to Pond Square, will find you surround by a number of excellent pubs.

One that has still retained it's flavour of old, is The Prince of Wales, which on a Tuesday evening, used have wonderful old jazz bands playing.

North London is a very green part of London and by that I mean that there are a great many trees and open spaces. Highgate ajoins Kenwood and Hampstead Heath, but also has it's own ancient woodland, Queens Woods and Highgate Woods.

It is a beautiful place to be outside.

To stroll up and down the tree lined avenues, gaping at the amazing houses or to stand in awe surrounded by several hundred year old trees, oaks that tower over you. If the weather is being unkind to you, then stop in at one of the many cafes for a warming cup of tea.

It is historical but not lost in time.

Need directions, head north and just follow the slope up hill.

Or to quote C.S. Lewis:

"Onwards and upwards, Narnia and the north".

....after....