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District line

A big hand, pleaseStepney Green station opened in 1902, and while the booking hall still boasts many of its original fixtures and fittings, for me the best spot in the whole building is – as with so many locations in life – halfway down the stairs.

Here you’ll find, stencilled on to the wall, a fading but impressively legible instruction to anyone confused as to where they should progress having purchased their ticket, and to those also curious as to where this angled sequence of steps may conclude.

The vintage of the stencil isn’t obvious, but the lettering suggests something richly antiquated and the whole design is saturated with nostalgic charm:

All in the wristLondon’s Underground: it isn’t really anywhere, it’s somewhere else instead.

Give my regards to (55) BroadwayIt was only a matter of time before 55 Broadway, administrative headquarters of London’s Underground since the 1930s, cleared its throat on this blog.

But I hadn’t expected it to do so as a wall tile on a platform at Aldgate East. And a pretty impressive one at that, nicely capturing the building’s mix of enduring majesty and shameless self-importance.

The tile is one of a number of designs embedded sporadically, almost whimsically, along the side of both platform walls. They lure your gaze away from the all the familiar apparatus of an Underground station and occupy you with something new, something unexpected, something… a little baffling:

Hats off to WestminsterOK, so that’s the Houses of Parliament, and that’s a crown, and that’s another crown, and that’s… a bowler hat?

And while this looks like a coat of arms, perhaps belonging to one of the counties through which the Underground passes…

A call to arms …heaven only knows what this is:

Erm...It’s a bit like the sort of half-arsed monster that frequented Peter Davison-era Doctor Who episodes, but sporting a face that looks like a character from Once Upon A Time… Man.

I think we’re on safer ground with this one:

Yes, againThe S stands for Stabler – Harold Stabler, the designer who worked on the remodelling of Aldgate East station in the 1930s, and who helped established and popularise the influential ceramics company Poole Pottery.

Stabler’s tiles are charming little bulletins of whimsy from a time when art could be both stylish and fun. They elevate a rather humdrum station into something teasingly special. They’re also the smallest things – so far – to merit an entry on this blog all to themselves.

The sun always shines on Charles HoldenA bit of luck with the clouds, plus a bit of derring-do with the traffic, led to this picture. Granted, the station is strutting rather shamelessly in the light. All its finery is on display. But what’s not to love? West Kensington spends its life squeezed among buildings squatter in size and inferior in style, a plucky player in the jamboree of architecture that unfurls along the North End Road. Why begrudge it an occasional moment in the sun?

Go, West!Vehicles pummel the tarmac yards from the entrance. It’s possibly one of the least best locations for a generous slab of between-the-wars Charles Holden. You can’t fully appreciate it on your way in or out. You have, like an aesthetically-picky aircraft, to be on the right approach.

And one of these approaches is, to be granted, not especially practical if you’re hastening for a train:

Barbed remarksBarbed wire had to be navigated to take this picture. No, there was no trespassing involved. And there was no loss of dignity either – only a few stitches.

You can see how West Kensington dwells in less than exceptional street-level surroundings. But it’s always nice to come across a bit of the Underground’s lower anatomy exposed for perusal.

That’s a fine set of alcoves, as the draughtsman said to the stationmistress.