NO ANORAK NECESSARY

I am a confessed train enthusiast. For me, the intrigue of rolling stock, disused track and proposed line extensions goes hand in hand with the sanctity of network map design. There is an inviting simplicity to clean lines and neatly separated destinations, as if the area presented is an orderly hub of efficient travel. A network map presents opportunities for new adventures and certainly inspires within me the desire to explore.

No doubt the most famous example for the British public is the map of the London Underground. The transport system is the oldest underground network in the world and its history is delightfully rich even to somebody with little more than a fleeting interest in the city’s trains. Naturally, the map has changed and expanded with the network’s additions and alterations, but in what has become an emblem of London and an icon of design, the basic line colours, type-face and interchange symbols have remained the same for over one hundred years.

The earliest maps were firmly based around a geographical depiction of London. They were often large and inscrutable as the designers struggled to successfully present a true-to-scale representation of the transport lines and their relation to major geographical features. This is exemplified in the distortion of the north-west of the 1911 map by cartographers at Johnson Riddle & Co.

However, the introduction of a schematic map by electrical draughtsman Harry Beck in 1933 forever changed the basic platform for network map design – not only for the country, but for the rest of the world’s transport systems. The famed design was based upon Beck’s knowledge of circuit diagrams and was considered so revolutionary the public were encouraged to post comments about it to the London Underground Publicity Manager.

Beck’s map continued to be tweaked and re-worked, but its fundamental design has remained consistent until the present day and is held with great affection. In 1925 the Thames was temporarily removed from tube maps with the removal of all other background geographical features, and its reinstatement in 1926 came to be greatly revered by travelers. Although Beck’s maps were largely removed from true London topography, the river remained as a consistent city symbol. However, in the purported interests of simplicity, Transport for London has removed this orientating feature from the newest maps of 2009 for the first time in 76 years, to much public dismay. The presence of the river assists the interpretation and understanding of the map and of London, and is deemed essential for visitors to the city. TfL have also removed any indication of zones, which leaves many customers cynical as to the motives behind these bold changes.

Of particular interest in the context of the changing tube map are the roughly 40 disused subterranean ‘ghost stations’ on the network. For an unashamed trainspotter like me, the history these often eerily preserved platforms and ticket halls suggest is immeasurable. Having disappeared forever from maps, the stations take on a clandestine interest. One of the most intriguing is the station of ‘Aldwych’, situated on a disused branch line of the Piccadilly Line. This line served as a shuttle between Holborn and Aldwych and as a (brief) connection to the northbound Piccadilly Line. Aldwych was originally named ‘Strand’, but was soon changed because of the simultaneous existence of ‘Strand’ (now Charing Cross) at the other end of the road.

The branch line was originally built as a twin tunnel, but because of low demand only one remained in use after 1917. Platform 6 at Holborn served this very early track, but was converted into World War Two offices and to this day remains separated and bricked up into compartments. Platform 5 at Holborn, which served the shuttle to Aldwych until 1994, could until recently be seen through gates on the northbound Piccadilly platform at Holborn. This platform and the remaining tunnel to Aldwych is still served regularly by a train between the two stations to ensure upkeep of the tracks, and the platform is used as a storage area and prototype testing platform.

Today, Aldwych station itself is maintained by London Underground as a film set and museum piece, with its ground level concourse restored to the original condition. The station below is decorated to the demands of film sets. During the Second World War, Aldwych was used as an air raid shelter and the unused tunnels were used as storage for precious artefacts from the British Museum.

What I find so fascinating about disused deep level stations such as Aldwych, and the disused tracks and tunnels connecting these ghost stations to the current, main underground system, is their juxtaposition with the order presented by today’s established network. The current London Underground map would lead you to believe by its authoritative existence that the stations and routes depicted are concrete; it suggests a definitive picture of travel beneath the city, as if the network is as sure as the Thames that cuts through the sprawl and divides it in two. But the existence of these subterranean stations reveals the great lengths the planners and engineers took to try and forge the most effective and efficient underground system. Their existence affirms the history of a transportation system committed to a public service, and brings a humanity to the thrall travelers on the tube experience when faced with the alluring, unobtainable clean slate that is the London Underground network map.

With thanks to http://homepage.ntlworld.com/clivebillson/tube/tube.html and http://www.underground-history.co.uk.

WORDS BY STEPHANIE POTTER