I'm sure everyone has had their fair share of pointless journeys, but at the same time I'm convinced that no-one else in the world has them quite as often as I do. Ironically enough, writing an article about each of these journeys does in fact give them a purpose, albeit a simple and previously unintended one.

The plan was to go to from Euston Square underground station in London to a Co-op nearby at Russell Square. The original reason for using the tube to go such a short distance has been lost in the mists of time, and the actual result of using the tube was to plant me firmly back at Warren Street¹, two hours older and with a very minor scald. To avoid any form of suspense, I will reveal that the only result of this journey was a cup of tea being spilt down my leg. You can stop reading now if you want.

I started by wandering over to Euston Square station so that I could get a train to King's Cross and change trains for Russell Square, not having realised that I would be walking the equivalent distance anyway. The Co-op there was closed, and I was unimpressed. Having used the tube to get there, I nipped back on and went to Holborn. The Sainsbury's there was closed, and I was sincerely unimpressed. By this stage I was starting to become delirious, and so I went to Bank, wondering whether there was anything useful there.

There was a bank. Not surprising I suppose, but still I was quite amazingly unimpressed. 'S*d this, I need a cup of tea. I'll go to Liverpool Street' was the next piece of tired 'reasoning', followed by 'I think I'll take the subway from Bank to Monument - that'll be fun...' How wrong I was. After rising and falling to a greater extent than the Roman Empire on a variety of frankly fascinating escalators, I was less than overjoyed. So much so that I caught a train from Monument that terminated at the next station, and didn't go to Liverpool Street after all. So then I was stuck at Tower Hill station for twenty minutes, praying for a Circle line train to appear and, when it did, it was packed out.

Finally, I reach my new destination, and buy myself a cup of tea. If you haven't been paying attention so far, then you probably won't have the faintest idea as to what happens next. Otherwise, you should probably just skip this bit, as it's even less interesting than the rest of my delirious scribblings.

Having obtained the tea, I returned to the tube station and waited on the wrong platform. I didn't realise this until I saw the word 'Hammersmith' written in small yellow letters on the front of a train stopping at the platform opposite. I rushed across the bridge between the platforms, the lid of the polystyrene tea cup I was holding falling off in the process. It is at this point that my day became particularly disappointing.

I stood on the westbound platform, thoroughly scalded and thoroughly disappointed as I watched the train to Hammersmith disappear into the distance. I caught the next one. It terminated at Moorgate. I swore loudly and got some rather interesting looks from my fellow passengers, and then wandered off to catch the Northern line train. Eventually I ended up at Warren Street, having achieved nothing. Please do feel free to laugh at my expense.

The Most Pointless Journeys of My Life Archive

AlexAshman

17.03.05 Front Page

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