Time to go home, and from London, journeys home invariably start at King’s Cross. Platform 5 for us today, though still with half an hour to go from this point in time before the 9:40 departure to Bradford Forster Square, changing at Leeds.
“The future belongs to those who prepare for it today”, says the text on this latest bit of street art. Well, I’m saving for retirement — or trying to. Will that do, do you think? I guess I’ll find out at some point, for sure.
On my regular visits to London I have been walking past this statuesque chap since 2016. The sculpture is of Sir Nigel Gresley, designer of the famous Mallard locomotive, which still holds the speed record for a steam locomotive. The statue is about 7 feet high — Sir Nigel wasn’t, though. Apparently, the design was to have originally featured a duck (that is, a mallard) as well as Sir Nige, but this was left off in the end, after, and I quote the Guardian (via Wikipedia) here; “possibly the most acrimonious argument in the long, pedantic history of the railway hobbyist”.
Judging by the number of ads that covered his pedestal (you see only a small portion of them here), this is what this guy does, full-time. But we all have our social media presence, don’t we.
I spent the whole day, from 1.30am in Toronto when we boarded the plane, until 6.45pm when arriving back in Hebden Bridge, on a series of rather overcrowded tin pipes. If we included Heathrow Airport itself as number 2, this train at King’s Cross was the fourth, and the most overcrowded pipe of all — the East Coast main line going into spasm once more thanks to some ‘operational incident’ or other. But at least I was in a seat. Home now, anyway, and no more flying aboard for a while. I need a rest.
And so breakfast, and then home again. Had the shot not captured the eye of the woman in the kitchen, there would have been nothing to show here: though I guess his ears are shapely enough.
Another weekend in London — the third in three months — ends where they always do, namely King’s Cross station. This war memorial stands facing platforms 1-3, and has always interested me firstly because my name (Whitworth) appears on it twice, with an unseen pillar to the right of this shot commemorating Whitworth, F. and Whitworth, W. A., who as with everyone else named on here was an employee of the Great Northern Railway lost in action. I also like this just because it looks good; it was unveiled just over ten years ago, when the station was rebuilt.
Almost every one of my trips to London ends here. Now and again I might leave in a different direction, but mostly it’s on one of the half-hourly Leeds services: we all watch the departures board over there, to see if this will be one of those times where LNER give us all more than about eight minutes’ notice. (Today, they did.)
And so, the trip back from London, and that invariably means King’s Cross is the departure point. I quite like the Giraffe café, on the balcony above the concourse — it’s a fairly agreeable railway station all round, in fact. Maybe the guy eating the sandwich might feel his depiction is a little unflattering but at least it catches the lunchtime moment.
The latest in an occasional series on this blog — Abandoned Shoes, n+1. (A previous episode is here, for example.) As this one is waiting at the top of the subway that leads down and into King’s Cross station, perhaps it’s just trying to get home. I am reminded of a joke from an early series of Red Dwarf about “shoes having souls”.
Being 42 