Whenever I'm in London, I use the Underground - I've now discovered London buses, thanks to Jay, but tube trains were my first love -
I used to travel on the Northern Line when I was a student - I would watch the darkness of the tunnels fly past the windows of the carriage - I could smell the electricity seething in the live rail - I would look up at the tube map, marvelling at its complexity - the notes for my latest essay would simmer in my satchel - I could see pale shadows ducking off the platform at Highgate -
I can remember, further back, my mum and dad taking me on the tube, along with my brother - we were on a family holiday to London - I was fascinated by the movement of the escalators - I used to jump off the last step - I had a horror of being mangled by those implacable steel treads -
How deep they seemed to delve, too - I imagined myself being carried down to strange temples far below the streets -
Last year, I stood upon the platform of Manor House tube, on the Piccadilly Line - when I was moving downwards on the shiny escalator, my thoughts turned to how I'd felt, travelling on the tube, those earlier days -
There'd been the sensation of movement, the carriage rocking on the electric sea - the brilliantly lit platforms giving way to darkness - the silent people sitting opposite me -
There'd been feelings of excitement and loneliness - of wondering who I would love -
Down on the platform of Manor House tube, I saw this grating, with its stylized tree, three doves, the gate between two pillars - perhaps it was a reminder that happiness comes unlooked for, like a caress in the dark -
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