Jessica McFarland

There are those who would consider the London Underground to be a kind of hell; certainly it is hot, crowded, and inevitable.

But I’ve just this week been awarded a fully-functioning line in the form of New Cross Gate station and the newly-opened East London branch of London Overground. It’s not precisely the Underground, but it does connect seamlessly to the Jubilee Line, as well as going under the ground (and under the water). It’s on the new maps and everything. Six of one, half a dozen of the other: I’m satisfied.

And to celebrate, I’ve decided to make a list of ten things that don’t suck about the London Underground:
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It’s late; time to go home. Luckily, the bus stop is just across the street. Let’s see when the bus is arriving…

14 minutes, are you kidding me? But the red LED sign tends to be surprisingly accurate. Still, this bus is supposed to run every 10-13 minutes. That’s what it says on that sign there. 14 minutes is a joke. And why is the one after that only 6 minutes later? Clearly there is some sort of conspiracy going on.

You know what? I’ll go a different way. Docklands Light Railway. It’s just down the road a bit. I have a travelcard, it won’t cost anything. And trains can’t get caught in traffic. Which way to the platform? It’s just one stop to Deptford Bridge, there will be plenty of buses there. This is a brilliant idea. How long till the next train?

8 minutes?! Darn, I’ve just missed one! But there’s no point going back to the bus now. I’ll just stand here and try not to look like I’m paying attention to this guy trying to hit on that Japanese exchange student.

Oh good, a train. Not long now till I’m home. No drivers on these things, I hope I don’t get stuck in the door and dragged to Lewisham.

Okay, Deptford Bridge. How do I get out of here? There’s the stairs. I’m out. Where am I again? Look, there’s a bus stop. Look, there’s a bus! Quick, I need to get over there! Come on, little red man, change into a little green man! I need to get that bus!

Darn, missed it. And another. Ooh, I’ll get that one there. I’m nearly home! Just need to get on the bus…

Why is that bus pulling over and turning on its emergency lights? “Excuse me, bus driver, where can I get a bus to New Cross?”

The other side of the street. Darn. Have to go back to where I was just a minute ago. Come on light, change, change, oh no! That’s the bus I actually want. Probably the bus I’d have been on in the first place if I had been willing to wait 14 minutes. Although, I could also get that bus…oh, I’ve missed it as well.

Right. It will be ages now before another one comes. I’ll just start walking, it’ll give me a sense of getting somewhere.

Hmm, I’m between bus stops now. Wouldn’t it be ironic if…oh, great, there’s a bus. No, of course it won’t stop. Of course I can’t run forwards or backwards quickly enough to catch it.

You know what? Screw the bus. I’ll bloody walk. How far is it to my house, like, a mile? Or so? Not more than two. I think. I don’t care. I’ve had it with these stupid buses stupid DLR stupid Transport for London conspiracies. It’s not raining, and these people probably have better thing to do than kill me tonight. I don’t care, that there’s another bus, and there’s yet another. I’ll just walk, and put one over on the stupid bus. I win. You lose, bus.

Tonight, as I stood at the bus stop, waiting a very cold 14 minutes for the 177 towards Peckham, I happened to spare a thought for where I was–Greenwich, London. The small portion of my mind that was not in the process of succumbing to hypothermia thought about how very close I was to the Greenwich Meridian, 0 degrees longitude.

Well that’s pretty cool, right? Only a short walk and I would have been in the Eastern hemisphere. That should be far more significant than crossing measly state lines in the U.S. But there’s not even a sign. Yeah, sure, there’s the Royal Observatory, Greenwich Park, and shops with big clocks. But I’m unsatisfied. At least between the states they put signs on the roads, a time zone boundary, or perhaps an absolutely enormous river. But in London, one can roam idly between whole hemispheres and not even notice.

According to Wikipedia, at night there’s a laser beam, and what looks like a blurry picture of a doorway I’ve never seen. This is weak.

We need big fence, or a wall. Big one. I’m not saying it should go the entire longitude line. Maybe just through Blackheath. And since the two hemispheres aren’t at war with each other, it wouldn’t have to be guarded. Or even opaque. It could be made from perspex. And then you could go visit it with your friends, and stand on either side, and wave at each other from different hemispheres.

Or if there was no budget for perspex, there could at least be a line. Again, a big obvious one. And then you could stand with one foot on one side and one on the other. Sort of like at Four Corners Monument, U.S., where you can be simultaneously in the states of Utah, Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico.

Oooh, there should be a Four Corners Monument for the Equator and the Prime Meridian. Then you could be in four hemispheres simultaneously, though I guess everyone’s always in at least two. Unfortunately, 0 degrees north, south, east and west is in the ocean, off the coast of Western Africa. So next we’re going to need an aircraft carrier….

Oh, dotted orange line
Dotted for so long
Why can’t you be solid?

Oh dotted orange line
You hold within your dots
So much promise, so much hope
A 9-minute journey to Wapping
A direct route to Shoreditch
But no, as long as you are dotted
These things cannot be.

I see you on the map
You stare back at me
As I take National Rail.

I change at London Bridge
I change at Monument
You torment me.
You disturb my mind
As I walk from Tower Hill.

At New Cross Gate station
All await your coming.
New signs herald your arrival
Trains pass along your tracks
And your line is solid.

Alas, it is a tease
The trains, like promises, empty
The signs are vicious lies
For still, you remain
A dotted orange line.