No. 26 Bus Part 1

Last week I (for complicated logistical reasons) had to drive unto the big smoke and then journey onwards to Devon from Waterloo. I left the car in Hackney and decided to catch the bus directly to Waterloo, despite the TfL Journey Planner’s insistence that the bus & tube was the modern 21st Century way to go.

Time was when you wanted to get on a bus, you got on it and paid with money. Now you run the risk of being chucked off if you try that trick. They have new-fangled Oyster cards and ticket machines at some stops but those machines aren’t evident in Hackney – I didn’t wonder why. So rather than face humiliation by the bus driver for having the temerity to wave a pound at him (I was informed by control HQ it was “at least £3 to go on the bus these days”) I ripped myself off at a shop buying a highly expensive travel card. To salve that annoyance I left it in the ladies at Waterloo (I hope someone found it and used it to travel round Zones 1&2 until midnight, otherwise I have paid over a fiver for one bus trip). On the upside, the 30p wee at Waterloo was a free wee, due to a broken turnstile. Little things etc.

I used to take the No. 26 Bus when I worked in the City so it was a bit of a memory lane trip. It was also a practical solution to needing a semi to urgent wee – far better to sit still and clench (if necessary) than get involved in bus/tube/tube interchanges whilst lugging luggage. Plus you get a window, so I made the most of it and sat on the top deck. Then at the risk of behaving much like Japanese tourist I snapped away. I also wondered if having had two children in Homerton hospital I could still be considered an honorary Londoner (I was thinking forever if anyone reading has this kind of thing in their gift)? How terrible if I have to take on visitor status when I am not a visitor at all.

Anyway, they’ve been busy since I last took a seat on the No. 26 – building enormous buildings that I don’t recognise, knocking things down and excavating great muddy holes out of which I’ll warrant more enormous buildings will rise. What I want to know is: who the hell is paying for all this and what the hell is this one called?

This meets with my approval (even if they built it behind my back)

Posted on February 22, 2010, in Architecture, Consumerism, Travel and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. ‘I also wondered if having had two children in Homerton hospital I could still be considered an honorary Londoner (I was thinking forever if anyone reading has this kind of thing in their gift)? How terrible if I have to take on visitor status when I am not a visitor at all.’

    I thought everyone down south was a Twiglet-loving Cockerney?

  2. Thus spake the Northern Custard Monkey unto the Sparra innit.

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