Centralism

Last week I wrote a piece about the plans for Baltic station and in passing, I sarcastically mentioned how there was "no further info on how and when they're going to sort out Liverpool Central."  Literally the next day Steve Rotherham put out some info on how and when they're going to sort out Liverpool Central.  Well played, Rotherham.

I say that: this was more of a hopes and dreams announcement rather than anything actually tangible.  Still, they included some whizzy CGI, which is always pleasing to see.  

The announcement came with the establishment of a Liverpool-Manchester Railway Board, which exists to try and get funding for improvements to the connections between the two largest cities in the North West.  Their vision is for a brand new high speed railway via Warrington and Manchester Airport with new termini at each end - an underground station at Piccadilly, enabling through running to Leeds if anyone decides that joining up with a third major city is something worth doing, and a massively revamped Liverpool Central.

This last part came as a surprise.  Central did, of course, once have direct trains to Manchester, as well as London and other destinations.  Beeching axed most of the routes in the Sixties, diverted the long distance ones into Lime Street, then the Link and Loop project sent the commuter routes underground.  The train shed was demolished, the platforms swept away, and Central became nothing more than a local station.

It is, however, a local station and a half.  Despite having only three platforms, Central is the tenth busiest station outside the capital with 11.4 million passengers last year - 900,000 less than Glasgow Queen Street, and more than Lime Street.  The Northern Line platforms in particular are beyond capacity, a single island somehow expected to cope with twelve trains an hour in each direction, including terminating services from Kirkby and Ormskirk that need to be turned round.  Something has to be done.

The proposed solution appears to be using the new Liverpool-Manchester route as an excuse to completely rebuild Central, gaining access to funds that wouldn't otherwise be available, and creating an entirely new station that none the less contains elements that are more than 150 years old.  But enough of that: where's the whizzy CGI?

It's important to note that these are images of what Central could look like, which does, of course, mean nothing.  I could look like Ryan Gosling given enough money and plastic surgery, but it's not going to happen.  This appears to be the existing entrance to the station on Ranelagh Street, with the existing shopping mall demolished in favour of a large open public space.  This is a great idea.  Central's shops have always been down at heel, and (with the exception of the Sainsbury's Local) have never really taken advantage of their location.  There are people streaming through there eighteen hours a day and yet most of the shops open at nine and close at five, leaving a dead space in the evening.  The only sadness is that this will mean the end of the legendary Leather Shop, a store that nobody has ever gone into, nobody has ever purchased anything from, and which has none the less existed on this site for decades.

Another image shows a second entrance to the station; the building behind the overhang is the Art Deco Oxfam so we can deduce this seems to be an opening out onto a pedestrianised Newington.  This makes sense.  The movement of traffic from the station is no longer straight out into the shopping district.  Bold Street and Ropewalks are vibrant, busy areas, and a back entrance would shorten the journey for people going to, for example, Chinatown or the Philharmonic.  

Connecting the two entrances is this long concourse which appears to finally take advantage of Liverpool Central's big plus: land.  Most of the time, expanding an underground station in a city centre is an expensive job involving a lot of demolition.  Central had the good luck - depending on what way you look at it - to have been demolished in the middle of an economic downturn.  That means the land where the old above ground station was has never really been filled in.

This image from Google Maps - I drew the rough paths of the Northern and Wirral lines on myself - shows that beyond the mall at the front there's car parks, workshops, nothing much.  Over the years proposals have come and gone - a couple of skyscrapers, a leisure development that ties in with the adjacent Lewis's building - but nothing of any real import has actually happened.  Meaning that the land is there to be exploited, and building work can be carried out with relatively little disruption to the rest of the city.  A new concourse can fill this gap between the buildings and cover any new tunnelling work - of which there will presumably be a lot.  The plans are vague, but since the images don't show any actual platforms, we have to conclude the new line from Manchester to Liverpool will occupy a third underground level, below the Northern and Wirral lines.  That's a pretty deep construction, but is again ideal if they're going to use the opportunity to split the busy Northern platforms.  The simplest option would be a central rail line with platforms either side, getting rid of the island, but I would hope they would try and future proof it a little and build four platforms - two for terminating services and two for through services. 

The press release vaguely mentions two other parts of the scheme intended to alleviate the pressure on the city's termini.  One is a tunnel to enable more local trains to go to Central instead of Lime Street; this was, of course, an original aspiration of the Link and Loop back in the 1970s.  That would've used the Victoria Tunnel to get there, with a new station at the University, but the various crises of the decade put the end to it.  Ironically, that may have been a good thing on one level, as Central would've reached breaking point a long time ago if there were also services from St Helens and Huyton trying to pass through it.

The other suggestion is an underground route between Lime Street and Central, providing seamless interchange and effectively turning them into one big station.  I'm less keen on this idea to be honest.  The inspiration is apparently King's Cross St Pancras, where you're able to move entirely under cover from the Eurostar to the Leeds trains and vice versa.  What this misses is that the reason they're interconnected is because there's a bloody great Underground station in the gap.  Also, the two stations are literally next door to one another, while Central and Lime Street are very much separate.

It's a five minute walk between the two, which ok, probably isn't great on a rainy Thursday, and yes, is not the most glamorous of routes (call in at the Blob Shop on your way past, you know you want to).  But it's nothing that couldn't be helped with some traffic calming and a little light refurbishment.  An underground route would be several hundred metres long, if it went as the crow flies (not guaranteed given the large buildings en route) and you'd probably need some travelators in there.  It'd be windowless, obviously, and if it's not behind the ticket barriers, it would be a magnet for the unhoused and the undesirable.  It's one of the reasons they filled in the subway from Lime Street to St John's, after all.  Also, judging by how the roof of the passageway between the mainline and underground stations at Lime Street has been leaking for, I would estimate, the best part of a decade, maintaining such a passageway would be an expensive job that's beyond the capabilities of the authorities.

I'm cautiously optimistic.  The Mayors working together is a start, and a new incoming Labour government would mean the city region's politics would align with the national ones (I mean by the colour of their rosettes, obviously; Liverpool is to the left of pretty much any potential administration).  I'm not enamoured with the designs, mainly because they're old fashioned to me - they remind me of the concept for the rebuild of Camden Town, which dates from the turn of the millennium.

Baltic's industrial feel was far more intriguing to me, but I get that you need a hook to grab people when you have concept art; a big sailing roof or a neon glow is headline grabbing in a way that simplicity isn't.  My only sadness is that I've reached that point of middle age where I look at the proposals pessimistically and wonder if I'll even be around when they're built.  

Well, that was a cheery way to end things, wasn't it?

Liverpool Central. Wednesday, 15th May. 7:20 pm.

All stations have an ebb and flow.  Passenger levels go up and down.  West Kirby is a lot busier on a sunny Sunday afternoon than a November weekday.  Hardly anyone ventures outside Sandhills' platforms for most of the week, until a football Saturday, when there are suddenly thousands pouring out the doors.

Britain's busiest underground station outside London is rarely quiet, but it does have its moments of calm.  Midweek, after the workers have gone home, before the revellers come out, there's a pause; the moment where tides turn and the waves are stilled.  The wide concourse, still clean and modern after its refurb, is empty.

There's a slap of flat shoes on the marble effect flooring and a group of middle-aged ladies come running through, coats flapping, clutching at their skirts to try and stop their hemlines from rising up.  The one at the back of the group has got overexcited from the thrill of the run for the train.  "Carol!" she bellows, too loudly, too prominently.  "Carol!"  And she giggles as they reach the ticket gates, even as her friends are shushing her.  They disappear down to the Northern Line but not before one more "Carol!".

Dotted around the edge are the waiters, the people loitering with intent, meeting friends, killing time until they have to be somewhere.  A girl in a sensible brown overcoat, big handbag, tapping at her mobile phone but glancing up at the ticket gates expectantly between keystrokes.  A student in shorts and a hoodie sat on the row of metal seats.  He's rocking back and forth, earbuds jammed in, eyes staring fixedly ahead.  Mindlessly killing time.

Beneath our feet a train rumbles in.  They're so close to the surface here; a firm kick downwards and you could make a hole in the floor to watch them pass.  The metal seats shudder under us, then a sigh of brakes and another set of passengers are disgorged.  Hefty men, no coats, good jumpers bought by wives, rubbing their hands together as they debate which pub to start their evening in.  A smart couple, he in a camel coat, her with trim hair and red lips, striding confidently out for the dinner date.  A gaggle of well-to-do old ladies off for a night at the theatre, chattering excitedly like children, a fog of flowery scent hanging around them.

This is the start of their night, but there are still people heading home; a guy with a man bag who's treated himself to a bag of chips after his day at the office, a young girl with thick rimmed spectacles who yawns as she waves her Trio at the guard.  A wizard strides in, six feet tall and resplendent in a long black overcoat and wide-brimmed hat.  His wife fizzes around him, a little ball of nervous energy, wearing a cape and panicking about their train.  They disappear into the MtoGo for their ticket; she dashes back out, almost running to the gates, but he's icy calm, taking giant strides and keeping pace with her.  The gate beeps twice as it burps their ticket out, the clatter as they pass through.

Underneath it all is the soft waterfall roll of the escalators.  A constant steady rhythm of movement.  The Selecta vending machine springs into life; a robotic arm scans the twirled shelves, surveying the Twixes and KitKats before stowing itself back in the hold.  The walkie-talkie of one of the Merseyrail staff parps out a sentence of fractured incomprehensible static; "Yeah.  Okay."

The students' mates have arrived, all of them dressed for football, a quartet of long shorts and lumpy sweatshirts.  They bond awkwardly, not quite bumping fists, but clearly ready to do so if the moment should arise.  His seat is taken by a trim lady with highlighted hair and a battered romantic saga.  She folds it back, cracking the spine for the fiftieth time, and begins to read.

Another train comes in, another group of excitement and fun.  A girl with two hula-hoops over her arm, black and gold; she wanders over to the cash machine and gets some money out, shifting the hoops round her body as though they're just a very large handbag.  The bouncing stride of a man with dreadlocks down to his waist, enjoying the rhythm of whatever is streaming into his headphones, walking a tricked out bike through the station.  The lady with highlights gets up and positions herself in front of the gates - the stream of passengers break around her like an island.  A woman of much the same age and much the same haircut is at the back of the crowd.  The two of them grin at one another, then kiss, then walk out of the station close to one another, sisters reunited in gossip and chatter.

Then it's quiet again, just the noise of the escalator, just the whistle of a staff member counting the minutes until the end of his shift, just the shuffle of feet of someone waiting for his friend.  Ebb and flow.

Map! Rant: The Map With The Hole

Back in the early days of this blog, I used to bitch about the Merseyrail map.  The reason was simple - they changed it, and made it awful, and I hated it.

Then I met the man who designed it at a party and I felt a bit guilty so I went quiet.

It didn't stop me hating it though.  I'd still look at it hopefully now and then as I waited on the platform.  I thought they might improve it.  They didn't.

The map's had a bit of a hammering of late, with enormous explanatory boxes all over it to explain which underground stations are closed for refurbishment.  That's fine.  It's a necessary evil.

I cannot, however, forgive the latest version of the map.

What's so bad about it, you ask?  COMPUTER: ZOOM AND ENHANCE.

Central's not there any more.  I mean, there's a big label where it should be, and the lines cross as they should, but someone's forgot to add the circle back on.

This is shoddy, shoddy work, and I'm shocked that no-one at Rail House noticed it.  They were all so busy concentrating on the fact that Lime Street is now in a green box that they didn't notice Central had disappeared.  Since Liverpool Central is the station nearest to Lime Street for Wirral Line users, it might be handy if there was some indication that it was open to passengers.  I took this photo on the Moorfields platform but I presume it's also up in Lime Street Mainline.  If you've arrived on a train, hoping to get to Chester, would you believe there was a station at Central?  (It could, after all, just indicate that this is the "central" part of the city).

Unless this is a deliberate fox to try and get everyone who would have used the always-busy Central to use Moorfields instead.  In which case, why not go the whole hog and leave it off the map completely?  Perhaps turn the loop (/SQUARE) into just a little green line between Moorfields and James Street.

It's just poor, Merseyrail.

And I haven't even mentioned the fact that they could have got rid of Lime Street's circle on the Wirral Line.  Indicate that there is no longer an interchange.  I managed to do that with MS Paint 18 months ago.  Presumably they have access to Corel Draw and Photoshop and those whizzy tablets with the little styluses.

Tell you what, Merseyrail: you can print that off and use it as a sticker on all the maps you've already printed off.  YOU'RE WELCOME.

Past, Crescent and Future

Salford Crescent is a mess.

Opened in 1987, it consists of a single platform squeezed between the lines with a ticket office and waiting room perched on the end.  It was cheaply done, lazy, and embarrassingly underfunded.  No-one seems to have taken account of the hundreds of residents (many without private transport) who might use the station; no-one spotted the shops and businesses close by; no-one noticed that a direct route to Piccadilly and Victoria is always a good thing; no-one realised there was an enormous university directly next door even though it was built on a street called University Road.

The result is a station that bursts at the seams throughout the day.  We're not talking peak time rushes here; the constant influx of students, with their peculiar hours of "working" means that Salford Crescent is consistently busy from dawn till dusk.  Its single island platform is frequently rammed with people from one end to the other, as Ian and I discovered when we visited last year.

What's needed is a couple of extra platforms, but that's not happening.  Network Rail are spending £12 million pounds to improve the station, but new platforms (plus the attendant stairs, lifts and waiting areas) would push that cost so high you'd need a pair of binoculars to see it.  Instead, they've adopted the Liverpool Central method of shifting the deckchairs.

Ian and I had reached the station by walking down a side road to the footbridge.  That concrete structure is still there (for now), but behind it Network Rail have built a brand new bridge.  This one includes a lift, as the old station was inaccessible for those with mobility problems, and has a roof too.  The roof is important because it means that in bad weather, people won't be so keen to rush down to the protection of the platform - a small way of alleviating pressure.

The new bridge is also much wider.  It leads directly to the other major improvement - a new ticket office.  As at Liverpool Central, where escalator equipment was moved to create circulation space on the platform, the ticket office is being moved away from trackside.

The new station building is another off-the-peg effort, similar to the one seen at Buckshaw Parkway; a McStation, if you will.  That's not to denigrate it though.  The new station will be clean, modern and accessible to all, none of which you can say about the current ticket hall.  The steelwork is rising up at the new entrance fronting the Crescent itself (the name is finally going to be accurate!).

The interesting thing is how prominent the new station building will be.  With the road bridge on one side, and the University buildings set back from the Crescent, it's surrounded by space and so becomes a landmark.  It's a vote of confidence in the railway and a handy reminder to drivers stuck in the traffic into Manchester that there is another way.

It doesn't change the fact that Salford Crescent needs more platforms.  What this development will buy Network Rail is time.  It'll give them a bit of breathing room to scrape together the funds for those more expensive improvements.  Come 2014 Salford Crescent will look a bit more like the station the city deserves.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles (without the planes)

Liverpool Central might think it's the glamourpuss on the network, with its new floors and its shiny escalators and its LCD advertising.  It's far from the only Merseyrail station getting a makeover, though.

Over the water, Bidston and Birkenhead North stations are getting new park and ride facilities.  This might not be as exciting as a glass-roofed extension, but in its own way, it's just as important for driving new users onto the network.

When the M53 came to Bidston, all sorts of approach roads were constructed to enable better access to Junction 1.  The problem is that in the process they managed to hide the station away behind a whole load of open space.

The open space is no more.  Normally this would be a cause for sadness, but in this case, it was just a wide expanse of dull grass that did nothing except get in the way of accessing the station.

Instead this will soon be a parking facility for the station.  It'll mean that Bidston becomes far more of a hub than previously and will make that park and ride logo on the station sign far more apt.

There will still be greenery here, but far more regimented landscaping.  Some nice trees.

Over at Birkenhead North, an even larger car parking facility is under construction.  I was surprised when I wandered down there (on a much less pretty day) and found the green space in front of the station was still there.

There used to be a row of houses there, plus a pub (The New Dock) which was so violent and unpleasant it had the nickname of "The Blood Tub".  When they were demolished a few years ago, I'd assumed it was for the parking facility, but instead, it's simply been landscaped as an extension to the park next door.

The car parks are actually going to be on the opposite side of the railway line.

That seems odd to me, especially as there won't be a footbridge or anything over the line: you'll have to exit the car park, walk round the station and then back in again.  I suppose you have to go where the room is, and let's be honest, it's better to use the derelict dock land as a car park than as a rodent breeding ground.

The new facilities are due to open in December, though the work at Birkenhead North is in two phases.  They're also refurbishing North's ticket office; that's due to reopen next week.  I really hope they work and are well used.  Bidston's right next to the motorway, so it's the kind of place that should be a park and ride hub, and Birkenhead North has plenty of space for it.  I just hope the local scallies don't view the dozens of parked cars as an opportunity for thieving and mischief.  Can we just have one nice thing?

Rebirth 2: The Northerning

Liverpool Central finally opened its Northern Line platforms last week.  I thought about visiting last Friday, when I was in the city for Skyfall, but the sheer amazingness of the film left me light headed.  I didn't want to risk over stimulation by going to a refurbished Central as well.

(By the way: GO AND SEE SKYFALL.  Thank you.)

Instead I waited until yesterday, because I was out in the city with my friend Jennie and her adorable children Adam and Joy.  We had a day of eating, art and shopping, and then headed back to Central so she could get her Northern Line train home.

There was an immediate problem - a queue for the lift.  I've never used the platform lifts at Central, so I hadn't realised what a tiny, confined space it sat in.  I also didn't realise just how popular it was.  The queue of parents with buggies and elderly women stretched right round the corner and into the main concourse.  It was also showing signs of fatigue already: clearly someone with a wayward pram had crashed into the wall and taken off a big chunk of yellow plastic.  I'll be curious to know when that finally gets fixed.

Eventually we managed to wheel Joy's pushchair inside the lift and whizzed down to the platform.  The first impression is how bright it is.  The Northern Line platforms are Victorian in origin, and there was always a cavern-like feel to the space.  The water running down the walls didn't help.  Those corrugated metal coverings are still trackside, but on the island platform itself, everywhere is white.

It means that the centre of the station somehow glows and seems even brighter.

A new circulating space has been carved out under the escalators by moving some of the mechanics; it means that the middle of the platform is much more open and can accommodate more waiting passengers.  With the new seating spaces upstairs, hopefully this will allow for more desperately-needed breathing room - though it seems the passengers haven't modified their waiting patterns yet.  They were still mainly hanging around the long tongue at the foot of the escalators, instead of moving into the new wide open area.

The new escalators now have funky little "no entry" lights at the bottom.  I wouldn't normally care, but it became a welcome moment of colour in amongst all that white.  Another welcome moment of colour is up top, where the entrances to the Wirral and Northern platforms are marked out with coloured arches and LED lighting - a simple but pleasing touch.

Disappointingly, there are still only three escalators.  The steps have been left in the fourth space.  To me, this means that there's still a "right" end of the station and a "wrong" end; one where it's easy to get up and down and another where it's more difficult.  I guess £20 million only buys you so much.

I headed for the Wirral Line escalator.  I'm assuming that there's still work to be done, because there are no signs telling you that's what it is; it's just a way down into the unknown at the moment.  Incidentally, as I took the pic below, the girl on the left was having a blazing row with her boyfriend, and was smacking him quite vigorously round the head; she saw me with my cameraphone and shouted "what's he taking a picture of?".  I made a hasty exit.

A couple of months ago, I was rapturous about the new look Wirral Line platforms.  Now they're complete, I'm going to have to register a couple of complaints.

First of all, they've taken away the line diagram on the tunnel wall.  I understand there are maps and line diagrams elsewhere but still, this was a useful addition to have.  

The second complaint is regarding the signs.  A few years ago the Colour Tsars introduced new yellow and grey signs across the Underground stations.  There were line diagrams, exit signs, and maps of the station.  These new signs have since been rolled out across the network - any time there's a new set of works (like at Hooton for example) the grey and yellow signs are in evidence.

I didn't mind these signs making their presence felt.  What I object to now that Central's been done up is that the rest of them haven't been changed as well.

White background, grey background, grey background, white background.  All above a white band.  It's a mess.  It offends me.  It looks cheap and temporary, and considering the station was closed for literally months that leaves me out of joint.  I want there to be consistency and elegance; I want there to be a definite corporate feel, one way or the other.  Not this ugly mish-mash of both styles.

Am I overreacting?  Being too OCD, too picky?  Absolutely.  It's tiny things like that which niggle.  It's little flaws that make you think that someone doesn't care.  I wanted to endorse the new look station wholeheartedly but I can't.  That stops me from declaring Liverpool Central an entirely flawless success.  That and the escalator thing.  It's close, but not quite there.

It doesn't stop me from looking forward to what they're going to with James Street though.  

Rebirth

I think it's safe to say the new Liverpool Central's a triumph.

I stepped off the train this morning into a gleaming, shiny white new world.  The Wirral Line platform (the Northern Line is coming in the Autumn) is now a wonderful place to be.

Removing the heavy brown plastic mouldings that previously occupied the platform wall has made it feel so much lighter and more pleasant.  Removing the rubber floor helps too.  The seating's been replaced with these grey and yellow beauties, which I believe are the same ones featured on the London Underground:

The other thing that strikes you is - there are no ads.  This must surely be a temporary measure; I can't believe that they've decided to just give up a handy revenue stream.   Equally, I can't see how they can put them in now that the cladding's in place.  I assume that there is going to be some kind of display case put in later, because I really hope this isn't permanent:

Yes, those timetables are pasted on the wall.  That's going to get really unpleasant really quickly.  Still, as you can see from the light boxes above, there's still a lot of work to do.  As I worked my way up to the concourse my fellow escalator riders were mainly Merseyrail staff and hi-vis clad builders, staring at me and my camera as though I was some kind of lunatic.  Ha!

I don't know if it was because it was so early in the morning, or if it's the new white tiling, but the station's acquired a zen-calmness.  Again, the lack of posters adds to the effect.  The station suddenly feels like that very calm transit station at the start of Star Trek: The Motion Picture: gleaming, pale efficiency.

The posters reappear at the mezzanine between escalators, so any hope I had that they were being replaced by whizzy LCD video screens was dashed.

Also gone: that massive poster space over the head of the Wirral Line escalators, the one that advertised a computer game shop that stocked games for "Commodore, Spectrum, Amstrad" well into the 21st Century.  I wish I'd got a photo of that while it was still there.  Sigh.

Anyway, that's gone, to be replaced by some tiles.  Probably for the best, as the last advertiser there was the Sony Centre on Paradise Street, and they've gone the same way as the Commodore.  It's a cursed space.

All this is, of course, just the hors d'oeuvres before le grand buffet: the new look ticket hall.  I'd lowered my expectations, to be honest, trying not to have high hopes.  There was no need.  Damn it looks good.

That big yellow space on the left is the new-look toilet area.  It's no longer a grim, UV-lit hole; instead it looks like something straight out of The Colour Tsars' fantasies.

There are LCD advertising spaces up here, as well as photos of the old Liverpool Central building across the back wall (unfortunately my pic was hopelessly blurred - sorry!).  Turn right and you pass through the ticket barriers - exit barriers in the centre.

The MtoGo's had a bit of a tarting up, though not much because obviously it's still pretty new.  It's been re-branded over the door - "easy-to-eat food" - just in case you were worried that they were selling live squid or doughnuts with nails in or something.

That emergency exit on the left, incidentally, isn't permanent, in case you're worried that the Colour Tsars missed a bit.  That will eventually give escalator access to the new Central Village development.

The biggest change in the ticket hall is... light.  There's actual, real daylight streaming into the hall now. A major design flaw in the old station was the location of the lift down to the platforms.  It was actually outside, meaning that the disabled, the elderly and mothers with prams had to walk through the rain to get out.  That area has now been brought into the main ticket hall and roofed over with a glass ceiling.

It makes everything so much brighter, and also means you get a good view of the Victorian rooftops behind.

Also in this space is the final part of Grant Searl's Animate the Underground series.  It previously got the short straw, being stuck on the floor of the station in a spot where you couldn't pause and contemplate it.  Now it brightens up the path to the lift, and it looks so much better.  Did they ever announce what the solution to the riddle was, by the way?  I don't remember seeing it anywhere.

Basically, Liverpool Central's a joy.  They've taken it, washed it down and made it new again.  My only concerns are those posters stuck to the walls (that can't be the final version, can it?) and a tiny worry about whether those brilliant white walls are going to stay brilliantly white for long.  I feel like standing at the entrance to the station and confiscating magic markers off particularly cheeky-looking scallies in case they decide to mark it for posterity.

After a bit of shopping, I got the train back from Lime Street, meaning that we paused at Central and I got to see it gleam all over again.  There were some dignitaries on the platform (presumably they're waiting for the Northern Line to reopen before they invite me round - I can do the official opening, if you want, Merseyrail).  I loved watching people getting off the train and taking it all in, and I can't wait for the new look to spread across the other underground stations.  I've seen the future, and it's ruddy marvellous.