Its dinner time in London, and I'm sitting in the hotel lounge. It has been a long day, so long that it actually started yesterday, a quarter world away. I was really disappointed not being able to pull off the Canada trip, I was so close, it was maybe a matter of less than $100, but it was $100 I didn't have. So I forced it out of my mind, and decided that I would strive for London. The final run of the "A Stock", old tube trains which were built in 1960. Running for over 50 years, and honestly, they probably could run for 50 more. They are possibly the most incredible model of electric transit train I have ever seen. Fast, incredibly smooth, quiet, comfortable, classy... with their high back seats, stainless steel coat hooks and luggage racks, jeez... the only thing they lack is air conditioning, not such a big deal in a city like London.
The first time I rode these trains just a couple of years ago I fell in love with them. Since my first ride, I've squeezed many more in and have watched them slowly dwindle. Today, to mark the occasion of the end of its career, the London Underground had a special "Final Run". I knew before I left new york that chances were slim to none that I'd get on this final run, as all the tickets were sold out. But who cares...I least I could see it...and hear it rumble its deep groan as at pulled out.
I was on the first flight to London, arrived in around 6 am. The sun was just coming up, and flying over downtown on our decent was especially cool. The eye of London was lit up in bright blue lights, Big Ben looked like little benny, and I wondered what was happening at (New) Scotland Yard at this early hour on a Saturday as I flew over it. Vauxhall, Battersea Power Station, hyde park, Victoria Station .... Ok, so I don't know London like new york from the sky, but I knew enough to know the above.
More than an hour after leaving the plane, I was still waiting for the shuttle van to the hotel...and it was chilly out...definitely long sleeve weather. A couple of phone calls determined that the driver had somehow went to the wrong airport. Eventually I found myself at my hotel....with less than an hour to prepare and head out to catch this train.
Quick shower...nice and hot, steamy...get some moisture in those lungs...nasal passages so dry, thanks recirculated pressurized plane air. Khakis, tee, polo, sweatshirt, over-sweat shirt, backpack, brown walking shoes (thank you !) and I was off...to breakfast ! Yes..I was starving..and it was a buffet... I stuffed my fat face with British Bacon, eggs sunny side up & scrambled, brown toast and a croissant, beans, grilled tomato, mushroom, small hash brown patty, oh and sausages...2 kinds...regular and Cumberland...they both seemed similar to me. Cup of tea and 2 glasses of fresh squeezed OJ and I hustled out to the tube stop.
Straight thru the gate with my oyster, I took the circle to Baker Street. Having had 1 croissant and egg too many, I was a bit slow and my timing a bit off. I just missed the special and it was running ahead of me. The chase beings...
Up to Harrow station, where I got off to figure out my plan. Harrow is a main junction on the Metropolitan line, all trains stop here. The station agent quite unexpectedly gave me his copy of the special A stock timetable. I did some quick planning, and figured here I could catch the express train and overtake the special and let it come to me, clever me ...mwahhh ha ha ha ... it was fool proof. Of-course, I fucked it up. I blame it on the American factor. What is the American factor you say ?? The American factor is when you first come to England and decide to Jaywalk. You look left, no cars coming, figure its safe to cross and BAM ! You're hit by a cab because they drive on THE WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD STUPID ! Lucky for me, the cab honked first and I jumped back in time.
It works for trains too. See, my whole life riding the subway in New York I've become used to trains running forward on the right. So I up the platform stairs, and see a train on the right, and I'm facing north, the direction I want to go. This must be the express I thought... and on that point I was right. I hopped on, the doors closed right behind me and the announcement came over the loudspeaker and stated the next and final stop would be Central London - Marylebone Station... Dammm !
My tired brain started crunching numbers, guesstimating times, going into contingency mode. I got to London, bolted up from my seat, ran off that train, and got 1 car length down the platform before I realized I left my camera at my seat... double Dammm ! I just bought the thing and already.... !
Got back on the train and started looking, doors closed behind me. Back to my seat...over, under, in, out...nothing. Shit. Ok, gotta get out of here, maybe I can run and see if someone has it....doors wouldn't open. Start running through the train, banging on the cab door, I was trapped...the driver had left. My saving grace was the cleaner who saw me inside from the platform and popped a door open for me....thank you sir ! Running down the platform, chasing the bald train driver who very obviously was ignoring me and my repeated calls. Out of the corner of my eye a woman was quicky approaching me and in the most proper British accent called out Sirhhh ... SirHHH ! I stopped and she then said "Are you missing something??" ... Oh thank god I thought, yes, I'm missing half a brain I almost said.
The express train back, the one going to my original intended destination left a few minutes late....oh I hoped it would at least meet the special. 30 minutes later, I got to Amersham and there it was, The A Stock. They really cleaned her up, shiny and fresh looking with a simple but dignified sign affixed to the front end stating "1960 - 2012 ; A Stock Final Trip" with a special seal on it.
There was a thick crowd around her, cameras flashing, video recorders rolling, people talking, and enough orange reflective vest to fill a safety supply store. I noticed one vest with the Underground roundel on it, and in small letters underneath "Chief Operating Officer"... ah ha ! I thought. This would be an interesting person to talk to. We had a nice 15 minute conversation, I won't reveal the details, but I'd like to believe that because of our conversation I have single-handedly changed the course of the future of transit in London. At the very least, I'm sure next time he goes on a train fan event like this, he'll wear a different vest, perhaps one that says "no one important here" or "Just the sweeper".
My friend Pete would be coming through on his service train soon, so I headed over to the correct platform and in he came. I would ride him to the next stop on the A stock tour, 20 minutes away back at Harrow. We chatted and caught up, he introduced me to some of his friends who were along for the ride.
Harrow came quickly, and I bid my friend goodbye. Right behind him was the A stock and I had the camera out and ready. It slowly rumbled in and came to a stop and who should step out of the rear cab but young Seth, the youngest person ever hired by the Tube to be a driver, at 18 years old. Now, he must be 22,23 maybe even 24. I met him a couple of years ago and we've spoken a couple of times since. Replacing him in the cab was a fellow named Neil...perhaps the best train driver I have ever come across in Europe. This guy could come into a station doing nearly a mile a minute and stop on top of a mark the size of a quarter if you told him to. His precision is a rare gift amongst even seasoned professionals. I had seen Neil in action once before, I wished I could ride his train one more time. Seth, the generous gentleman he is, gave me his ticket and wristband as he was getting off the train at that moment and would not be rejoining it. He arranged for a door to open for me, and just like that I was on the final run of the A stock.
What an interesting cross-section of people on here. All sorts of British camera or other device wielding train fans, along with many off duty staff members, and most shockingly girls. Not like little girls dragged by their dad's (though there were some of those), and not like obliging partners dragged by their train loving boyfriends (I'm sure there was at least one of those ), but girls who actually were there because they liked and appreciated the London underground or trains in general. Fascinating.
I spent a lot of the time on-board speaking with all of the lovely and friendly people on board, what a cool crowd. Friendly, civil, funny, some eccentric, but all enjoying themselves. The next 90 minutes on-board went quickly. Now we were in the heart of London, underground, at Aldgate, terminal of the metropolitan line. The train was reversing for the final time on its passenger run. With a long blast of the whistle, it began its dash northward. The energy on-board changed, and everyone became focused on the train. Neil was at the helm, and he let anyone who was listening know it with his long, punctuated whistle blast. With a slow procession through the downtown stations with quick dashes in-between ... Liverpool Street, Farringdon, Moorgate, Kings Cross, and thru to Baker Street. These stations aren't just any stations, they were the worlds first subway stops opened 149 years ago. Rumbling under Sherlock Holmes fictional yet real place of residence, Neil began to open up the throttle. Soon we were out of the tunnel, basking in the bright warm sunlight. Our pace quickening, the train rocking, bouncing along. Soon everyone's attention focused on the makeshift speedometer monitoring our pace. 50..55.... "60!" everyone shouted..."65!" "70!...WOW"..."oooh..71!"..."72","73"...awww "72".."wait..73!".."74!"..."75"...and loud cheering ! We were rockin' and rolling at 75 MPH... breakneck speed for a 52 year old subway train, and yet it ran like an experienced thoroughbred on a racetrack, with a champion jockey... Neil in this case. And suddenly we were braking, no doubt for the upcoming junction. In just a moment we would be coming to a final stop at Wembly Park ... home of England's National Stadium, the 2nd largest in Europe.
An announcement was made over the loudspeaker, telling everyone that the final run of the A stock had concluded and everyone had to disembark the train. It was done eloquently, with class and style, I wish I recorded it. Everyone said their final goodbyes and slowly exited the train. Neil was signing autographs of various train fans, folks were taking their last pictures and saying goodbye to their friends. With almost tears in his eyes, the driver spoke of how he was not happy the old trains would be gone. The train was now headed for the storage yard, its future uncertain. The rest of its class have been sent to the scrapper, to be cut into small metal fragments, melted down and made into something new.
Positioned near the head of the train, I turned my camera on, waiting for the train to depart the station. The train finally devoid of people, departed Wembly Park station for the last time. It had made it about 150 feet outside the station before I heard 3 loud staccato booms, almost like a rifle salute. Someone had placed "railway torpedoes" on the track ahead of the train. These torpedoes were small packets of explosive gunpowder like substance, used to warn drivers of an unknown danger ahead in the olden days. No longer used, most people have forgotten what they sound like and their effects. The booming sound shook me, it was immediately followed by a loud synchronized chanting "Hip Hip Hooray... HIP HIP HOORAY" repeated as the train pulled out of the station. I have never been so moved before by a train departure, after all, it was just a machine pulling away from a station, but in the moment it felt like so much more. For all these people, this one type of train meant so much, and certainly the underground got their moneys-worth out of the stock, after all, they ran with an excellent record for over 50 years. If only they should be so lucky with their future equipment.
The train gone, the people slowly dispersed, many slowly shuffling their way elsewhere. While the mood was a bit sombre, I recognized a couple of things... the first was the beauty in it all, the feeling, the emotion. The second was much closer to home... I really enjoyed being in the entire moment, the experience was not perfect, but it was incredibly special and will last a lifetime.
However, a certain lady in new york told me that she wished she was going to Venice with me, my original weekend destination. Then and now, I would have given up all of this, good and bad, to see her smile the first time her eyes set on a canal boat, to see the effect of a place on her called by some "the most beautiful city built by man", to watch her face as she tasted the local flavors. I loved my experience with the A stock, but it is and never could be as fulfilling of an experience as feeling her presence, beauty, and happiness; and to know that somehow I made her life just a little nicer.
