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Piccadilly line

36. The terminus at Uxbridge

15 July 2012
Architecture, Metropolitan line, Numbers 26-50, Piccadilly line, Zone 6
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Yes, another oneWelcome to the other end of the line.

The terminus at Uxbridge was conceived and designed to mirror that at Cockfosters, so it makes sense for me to salute them sequentially.

There are differences between the two, but not substantially. Uxbridge is slightly taller and longer than its crosstown cousin, but keeps the same overall shape and sensibility. Statistically it is four times busier than Cockfosters, but is still just as elegant and, despite the hubbub, just as atmospheric:

IlluminatingI know I’m a sappy simpleton, but I find the way these massed ranks of regal arches diminish and fade into the distance really rather special.

If you can forget the bustle and sidestep the people loitering not for a train, or to meet someone, but just for the sake of it, there’s a bewitching ambience to Uxbridge station.

The presence of stained glass, which I’ve already mentioned, makes the whole place feel slightly hallowed. Except nobody departs to another life, or a hole in the ground, from Uxbridge; the most they can hope for is a swift connection to Rayners Lane.

Go in peaceUnlike Cockfosters, this isn’t the one and only station building to have existed in this location – or to be precise, in and around this location.

The first incarnation of Uxbridge station was opened by the Metropolitan Railway in 1904, north of where it is now. The second and current incarnation dates from 1938. Regular readers will have no trouble guessing whose estimable hands were responsible for drawing up the blueprints.

Holden back the yearsDespite being dozens of miles and countless stations apart, Uxbridge and Cockfosters help remind you what the Underground is and always should be: one network, serving one London, whose similarities are greater and stronger than what many, especially London’s one newspaper, would often have you believe.

35. The terminus at Cockfosters

11 July 2012
Architecture, Numbers 26-50, Piccadilly line, Zone 5
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To the end of the lineWelcome to the end of the line.

I hope I’m not alone in finding this and other London Underground terminuses (or termini, to be classically correct) hugely beguiling. They have an atmosphere you do not find anywhere else on the network. It’s one of precarious, precious stillness. Nothing and no-one can rush in a place like this. Life feels half-suspended, having drifted in from somewhere, but not entirely sure when it will drift on somewhere else. Trains creep in, loiter, and creep out. Time does the same.

These feelings are amplified and embellished when you’re in a terminus like the one at Cockfosters.

Another Charles Holden masterpiece (yes, him again) dating from 1933, the building seems almost to shiver with languid splendour. Those great grey arches yawn invitingly; the soft lights wink and glow with dapper charm; and all around you the space, the generous, stylish space, circulates with airy, effortless ease.

Beginning to see the lightAll the signature Holden motifs are present and correct: reinforced concrete and glass well to the fore, as much natural light as possible, an emphasis on simple elegance rather than fussy ornamentation, and sleek, smooth lines that curve, criss-cross and sidle in every direction.

But there are surprises as well, like this grill, which reminds me of one of Ken Adam’s stark and memorable set designs from Dr No:

Oh, NoOr this modest attempt at a flower bed:

Insert another "blooming" pun hereNecessity means you have to linger in Cockfosters; the station’s glorious interior makes it expedient to do so as well. It is one of the finest places to begin or end a journey to or from anywhere in London.

To make an end is to make a beginningSomething happened here

33. The viaduct at Arnos Grove

6 July 2012
Architecture, Numbers 26-50, Piccadilly line, Zone 4
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I dream my dreams awayWhen the Piccadilly line was being extended northwards from Finsbury Park to Cockfosters in the early 1930s, the planners faced the challenge of how to get round, get over, or even avoid completely the Pymmes Brook valley. It being the early 1930s, however, this was seen not so much as a vexatious conundrum but a delightful problem meriting an equally spirited solution.

This turned out to be an absolutely enormous viaduct made of 34 arches, opened in 1933 and an instant architectural landmark. It’s still breathtaking today, even if it doesn’t quite live up to the suburban idyll suggested in the initial marketing:

Bridge of sighsFor one thing it’s not nearly that high:

A river runs through itNor is it possible to get that clear a view of the trains passing overhead:

Southbound trainHowever you can wander at will among the magnificently imposing and meticulously aligned arches, whose nooks and crevices conjure up a deceptively never-ending maze of brickwork:

A maze, amazingIt is also, like its cousin in the Dollis Brook valley, an Underground highlight that’s not best appreciated when you’re actually on the Underground. You need to leave the train, indeed leave the station and network entirely, to savour the viaduct’s full splendour. Which it’s well worth doing, even if the reality doesn’t quite match the artist’s impression. But then when does it ever?

The real thing