Somewhat romantically overexposed view from Sheffield train station.
An unusually empty carriage; just me, Callon and tea.
I have come to realise that my enjoyment of time spent in London is directly correlated with the amount of time I have to spend there - the clearer the deadline, the more I appreciate it, and the less I despise it. Knowing I was leaving after three days, it was with a veritable bounce that I exited the train to step into the sunny glory of St Pancras.
A waiting group.
The overall view.
Into the modern guts of the station.
Not only has St Pancras been recently renovated, it has also been recently expanded and now connects seemlessly with Kings Cross through a long series of well lit tunnels (have a look at a very funny description of the endless underground journey by Simon Hoggart here). It was very busy, I got there just for the rush hour. The instinct to kick shins of those bumping into me was hard to surpress.
By the time I have emerged at Victoria, which is amongst the most horrid places in London to navigate (second only to the Centrepoint area), my good will towards mankind had significantly eroded. While in the Tube I was looking around with interest and joy at the wonderful variety of faces and expressions around me (the white-haired woman in a purple jacket, the red-headed short-tempered one on the seat opposite, the Japanese teenager in skinny jeans), and as usual in these kinds of situations wished for a pair of powerful spy glasses to snap impromptu portraits of their amazing individuality; by the time I reached Victoria I had been treaded on so many times, treated to so many bland, expressionless looks of self-involved misery that it was all coming back to me - the point-to-point thinking, people as moving obstacles to be manouvered around, the necessary disengagement which makes it possible to survive the horror of a daily commute..
Typical student cell at a UCL halls of residence.
My room for the next three nights was a very agreeable student cell on the 7th floor, overlooking nothing in particular. I smiled at its sobriety, and even the all-plastic bathroom, with a crammed arrangement you'd find in a camper van, was not offensive (for the lack of space the whole room, including the toilet area, becoming a shower cabin). It reminded me of my uber-geeky days of incessant studying as an undergratuate - ah, what misery, and what delight at the same time!
Dumped the suitcase and headed out again, to pick up my pack and start planning attendance of the presentations over the next few days. It was great fun this year.
No comments:
Post a Comment