Saturday, 17 August 2013

Things you probably won't want to do: Tunnels under the Thames

Frankly, I could probably entitle the entire blog 'Things you probably won't want to do'.  But that would perhaps be unwelcoming. One is suddenly 'minded of Why Don't You? suggesting you switch off your television set and go and do something less boring instead. But! Dear, dear reader, I, rather, propose that you read on, and have your life immeasurably enriched. Quite a proposal.  Quite an inaccurate proposal.

I like to give my otherwise-random cycling efforts some purpose. I try to find places to go to give my life meaning, and thrill my little point-and-click camera. Hence this thematic voyage of discovery.  Tunnels under the Thames that a cyclist may enjoy en bike.

The Greenwich Foot Tunnel runs from an uninspiring bit of grass on the Isle of Dogs to the south of Canary Wharf (from which you get a wonderful view of Greenwich Maritime College, alias Les Mis Land), to Greenwich (from which you get a view of an uninspiring bit of grass on the Isle of Dogs, and the towers of Canary Wharf in the haze).

Basically, all of SE London looks like this (cf Thamesmead).

On each side there is a spiral staircase down from the turret / 99-without-a-flake entrance, and a large and oddly wood-paneled lift.  Like a drawing room on a pulley.


The tunnel itself is cool in summer (wonder if it gets cold in winter), and slopes slightly too steeply down, and then back up. It's much like any number of Tube tunnels you've tramped along. Makes me think for some reason of the Bakerloo line. Must be the mud-brown tinge. Despite the signs urging pedestrian pursuits, a collection of idiots is constantly on hand to skate or cycle along the tunnel.  One should try not to hope that they fall over and injure themselves in some sort of facial way.


On the Greenwich side, pause briefly to be annoyed by the post-fire reconstruction of the Golden Hind (or whichever boat it is), now trapped in a wave of geometric Tupperware.


A few miles further east is the Woolwich Foot Tunnel, which is much like the Greenwich one, albeit a bit longer. The lifts are currently broken, so the adventurous cyclist will have to carry his bicycle up all the bloody spiral stairs. There's not much to see back on the north side (well, there's the (free!) Woolwich Ferry, and, mmm, Woolwich), although the wonderfully and slightly-wacky Thames Barrier Gardens are a short cycle west, by Pontoon Dock DLR station.

Fun and daft in roughly equal measure.

Of course, the cyclist is not allowed down the Limehouse Link (and, since it doesn't go under the Thames, the tunnel is beyond the rubric of this blog post), but one can, one speculates, do over 30mph on a bicycle down there, given the steep downramps and hefty tailwinds. One speculates.

A less illegal cycling option is the Rotherhite tunnel, which goes from glamorous Surrey Quays to glamorous Limehouse (home of the aforementioned lovely fun illegal tunnel). It's probably dull to drive along, but it's a good laugh on a bike, despite the general stink of traffic fumes.  I decided to ride on the pavement, rather than risk the narrow road, which is, in hindsight, probably also illegal.

Trusty steed.

Finally, narratorially, there're the Big Daddies of Thames Tunnels, the ones which the East London Line runs through.


Occasionally, they leave the tunnel lights on (above), so you can peer down the tracks and imagine yourself a Victorian gentleman (below), all top hat and searching for a filly of liberal morals unbismerched by the pox.


And then there's the Victoria, Northern and Jubliee Lines (oh, and Bakerloo, forgot that one), each of which delves under the Thames, but none of them permit bikes.  The District Line, at its poncy end, has its own bridges over the river, although some idiot designed the Richmond bridge's sides so high that you can't see the water at all.

I don't know if you can take a bike through the Dartmouth Tunnel, and I'm not going to try.

Pleasant voyages, now-enriched reader!

3 comments:

  1. Although it is all made from timber from B & Q, the streamlined shape of the Cutty Sark, and the length of the spars for the canvas which used to hurl the ship forward under full sail made me pause momentarily.

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  2. Beautiful prose, David. Please write a blog :)

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