London North East One From a well-known unknown corner of London

Schnee

So I was out in town today, and dropped in to see my fine showbiz pal Geoff to anorak for a while and conduct a little bit of business. (I just realise that makes me sound like I'm dealing or buying drugs. I'm not. Honest. I'm too much of a scaredy cat.) I exited into the cold and rain, and headed underground as any sane individual would. Upon arrival at Kings Cross, I was intending to change from the dark blue to the black, as I had business to attend to in Angel. (Pick up photos from Boots.) Incidentally, since the new northern ticket hall opened at KX, you now have to walk about half a mile to change from the Piccadilly to the Northern, through labyrinthine new tunnels, three escalators and one flight of steps. However, to change from the Northern to the Piccadilly requires one short bendy corridor and a flight of steps. Why is this? Surely people heading home from the West End to the north of London are more likely to be carrying bags, or just grumpy after a long day's work. It should be the other way around. Or there should be a contraflow. Or I should be running bloody TfL.

Anyway. I was on this long trek in a circle to get to the Northern Line, when my eyes alighted on this sign, illustrated here on the right. (Incidentally, I'm still getting my head around the formatting on this site, so this bit of text may be ridiculously squeezed, depending on your screen resolution. Sorry if it looks daft.) Not just one, either. At every turn of the corridor, at every escalator, there was the sign again. Why, I pondered to myself, would one need directions to the Regent's Canal? I internally applauded the use of the apostrophe, but even so - what new delights had been added that warranted a sign directing the mass hoards using Kings Cross interchange towards the Canal? "Blow the Northern Line!" I thought to myself, and followed the sign to Regent's Canal.

Well, the escalator finally tipped me out opposite the SouthEastern trains ticket gate line in St Pancras Station, and there were no further signs pointing me towards Regent's Canal. To be honest, thinking about it, the only way from there was down along the taxi queue in Pancras Road to the bottom of the hill, then right up Goodsway, then perhaps into the Camley Street Wildlife Sanctuary, which would get you to the canal. Otherwise, you've got to walk all the way back up the hill to York Way, cross over the road and then drop down to the canal. Quite a long way, up a steep hill and certainly not warranting signs in Kings Cross Underground Station. Anyway. As I pondered all this, I noticed that it was snowing. Not just snowing, but big fat whopping snowflakes that were settling nicely and making London look that rare thing that one only normally experiences towards the end of an alcohol-assisted evening in the West End - sparkly and magical. I slid my way down the side of St Pancras station before I finally succumbed to taking a photo, knowing as I do the bad results when you combine cameraphone with darkness and snow.

So, this is the best I could come up with.

But London was fab as a result, and so I decided to walk home, if only for the entertainment value of watching bad driving skills coming to the fore as people tried to get up Pentonville Road to the Angel summit. I wasn't disappointed. What did disappoint me was that after my visit to Boots in Angel (where I had a very nice conversation with the girl behind the counter about various things including commuting from Chingford and how her collegue was useless because he didn't know what eye shadow was even though he has three sisters and works for Boots. I couldn't disagree with her) it had stopped snowing. This didn't stop the sliding however, and I was a little peturbed walking down Essex Road to see a 476 heading towards me at approximately 20% skew. I stood to one side until it had passed. Anyway. I had a point but it escapes me at the moment.

London. Snow. Good.