I go to relatively far-away places in order to be blown away by their mediocrity #2

NORTHOLT + TRAIN JOURNEY

I have made most of this journey once before, but it was dark and I wasn’t paying attention for many reasons

END OF LINE (not true but that’s the feeling)

White City is the last bastion of real london, we rise up and become a real train after weaving under the billboards and oversized warehouses, spaghetti junctions

So many Actons

East North West

East: pretty white clapboard train station (not an underground surely?) above cottages, latticed windows, lace curtains, silent 40s movie streets

North: industrial noise, ::industrails:: tall corrugated iron bridges, searing blue, trying to blend with the sky? machine noise, all metal, grey faces, this is where I change

now I see why everyone thinks londoners are miserable, it’s North Acton’s fault

West: uneventful long red platform stretching up and away to nowhere

Perivale: this is where I remember, odd in daylight, much less eventful than I remember. suburb of any city.

Northolt:

1st reaction: nice. pleasant. one long road. village shops, village green, keep walking, chicken chicken chicken estate agents. signs to airports and mcdonalds. all of a sudden we’re in ring road land. walkway across a choppy ocean of lorries. silent until it’s loud at the intersection, yellow arches and green caps lock, spelling out disaster for the cutoff village

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I go to relatively far-away places in order to be blown away by their mediocrity #2

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