An official and objective ranking of London’s 14 major rail terminals

Another happy day at London Victoria. Image: Getty.

14. Victoria

Awful. Ugly, dirty, with two sets of platforms so that you’re never quite sure which side of this vast charm vacuum you’re meant to be on, and jammed between the most depressing shopping mall in London and a playpark for buses. The world beyond has been in the middle of building work since before any living human can remember. And if you find yourself in Victoria then there’s a reasonable chance you are soon to find yourself in Gatwick, London’s worst airport.

It was going to be 11th, but having written this I’ve realised I was kidding myself and have re-ordered the list. It’s just the worst.

13. Euston

It would be unfair to compare Euston to hell as it does at least present an opportunity to go to a better place (Manchester, say, or Glasgow). Then again, it would be unfair to compare it to purgatory, too, as unlike that corner of Catholic mythology it also presents a risk of ending up somewhere worse. So, officially: Euston is worse than purgatory.

Not quite hell. Image: Getty.

It is, at any rate, a cramped and dirty product of the worst era of British architecture: its dirty poor quality facilities besides particularly depressing loos stand as a “fuck you” from London to those who visit it from large parts of the country. It ranks so near the bottom not just because of these qualities but because of the frequency with which any regular train passenger will find themselves encountering them. There are worse stations – but there are few this bad in which you are this likely to regularly find yourself at some ungodly hour of the morning.

12. Moorgate

As dark and dirty as the grave, and only marginally bigger. What’s worse, the furthest you can get is Letchworth. Letchworth, for heaven’s sake.

This isn’t a rail terminal: it’s a tube station going through an awkward goth phase.

11. Fenchurch Street

Geographically not much more ambitious than Moorgate – the trains only run as far as Southend, although to be fair if they went any further they’d fall into the North Sea.

Looks nice, though. Image: Getty.

This one is a proper rail terminal, at least, although the retail and refreshment facilities are second to literally everywhere and, worse, it doesn’t even have a tube station. Its inclusion on the Monopoly Board baffles me to this day.

10. Cannon Street

Strangely pointless: seems to exist entirely to complicate track arrangements out of London Bridge, a hilariously nearby station at which every train leaving Cannon Street is also destined to call.

Bloody office blocks. Image: Sunil060209/Wikimedia Commons.

On the upside, it’s clean rather than filthy, and cosy rather than cramped. On the down, it inserts an entirely unnecessary station onto the District and Circle lines from which you can literally see the next stop up the line. Not awful, exactly, just… why?

9. Marylebone

Fenchurch Street’s nicer brother: the one your mum secretly wishes you’d brought home instead. 

The newest platforms at Marylebone. Image: Wikimedia Commons.

Again, it’s out of the way, its trains go to nowhere very much and it’s poorly hooked into the tube network (although not quite as poorly). But it has a decent pub, and if you don’t mind going the slow way, it provides cheaper, more comfortable and more scenic trains to Oxford and Birmingham than its larger, brasher rivals. It’s alright, really.

8. Charing Cross

Charing Cross has many of the problems of the smaller stations I’ve already talked about – It’s cramped and it’s dirty in exactly the way Simon Bradley’s mum’s house was the morning after some prick posted word of his 17th birthday party to an open group on Facebook.

Charing Cross, from the Strand. Image: Bernard Gagnon/Wikimedia Commons.

And yet…

It’s right in the heart if things. You can walk out one way and hit Trafalgar Square. Walk out the other and you’re crossing the Golden Jubilee Bridges to the South Bank. It’s a shithole. Yet, somehow, I can’t bring myself to hate it. 

Then again, I never use it, so perhaps this is just Euston syndrome in reverse.

7. Waterloo

So big and so busy – It’s the busiest station in Britain and possibly, depending on how you count, the busiest in Europe.

A particularly busy day at the busiest station. Image: Getty.

That scale is a double edged sword, though. On the one hand it feels bustling and important and like you’re really setting our somewhere. On the other, it’s overcrowded and you’re inevitably 20 platforms from the one you want, and you’re not really setting our somewhere at all because, despite being the busiest station on an entire continent, it’s served by no really long distance trains: Exeter is about the limit, and even that is reached more quickly from Paddington.

On the upside, the way London snottily pretended that the Thames didn’t have a south bank for so long means that it’s incredibly well located. The name is a nice riposte to the existence of Paris’ Gare D’Austerlitz, too.

6. Paddington

You know, a lot of people have told me they hate Paddington, and I can’t entirely see why. It’s nothing special, I guess, but there’s a certain grandeur to the scale of that glazed roof, and that, plus the lack of major barriers between concourse and platforms, gives journeys through Paddington a sense of occasion. All that, and there’s a statue of a tiny fictional Peruvian bear, too.

The concourse on a snow day. Image: Getty.

That said, it’s miles from anywhere useful, west London is generally awful, the area outside the station is particularly so, and the whole tube situation here is completely fucked up. So no way am I putting this higher than 6th place.

5. Liverpool Street

Fine, basically? Clean. Bright. Decent enough facilities. Decent enough shops. Good scale – you’re never more than about two minutes from your platform. It works.

Alright, basically. Image: Diliff/Wikimedia Commons.

I don’t think it’s a spectacular place to transit through or anything, it’s more that I just can’t think of anything grounds on which to slag it off. It’s okay. The vanilla ice cream of London rail terminals.

4. Blackfriars

Okay, now were getting to the good shit.

Blackfriars by night. Image: Andrew Dupont/Flickr/creative commons.

Blackfriars is a station that’s also a bridge. It’s literally on both sides of the river. Okay the name is annoying and its train services have been screwed since slightly before Henry II ascended the throne in 1154. But it’s a motherfucking station that crosses a motherfucking bridge. Come on, that is badass.

3. Kings Cross

A little under a decade ago, Kings Cross was awful. A tiny concourse for a huge number of long distance trains. A temporary facade that had been there 40 years. Its main purpose was to give visitors from Scotland and Yorkshire some basis for their lifelong prejudice against That London.

The hawk is not always in attendance. Image: Getty.

But then, they fixed it. The new concourse is light and airy. The curved concourse roof is a thing of beauty, and the bridge which carries departing passengers to their platform is a clever way to stop them and arrivals from getting in each other’s way. And the trains will, if you’re so minded, take you to real faraway places like Aberdeen and Edinburgh. It’s glorious.

My one slight criticism is that the public square out front which opened with such fanfare doesn’t work because it is, fundamentally, next to the closest thing you’ll find in central London to a motorway. But the station itself? Glorious.

2. London Bridge

London Bridge was a mess even more recently than Kings Cross. Months, rather than years, ago, the concourse was the size of a postage stamp and roughly as sticky, and to get to the platforms you had to walk up dark, sloping concrete corridors like a member of Spinal Tap lost in the world’s worst multi-storey car park. On, and the main entrance was through a bus shelter.

The new concourse. Image: Network Rail.

No longer. In January, the station finally opened a cavernous new ground-level concourse, which opens to the street on two sides, and takes passengers directly up to every platform via escalator. More shops and cafes are still on their way in the various arches around the station.

It’s lovely – functional and beautiful, the closest thing you’ll find in London to the greatness of New York’s Grand Central. After years of work, London Bridge has gone from being London’s worst rail terminal to a candidate for its best.

If they could just make the trains run okay, then it’d be pretty much perfect.

1. St Pancras

I mean it’s just brilliant isn’t it? The outside is beautiful. The inside is beautiful. The giant clock that looks down on the concourse is beautiful. Even the roof, for heaven’s sake, is beautiful – the blue of the arches automatically bringing to mind joyful days and cloudless skies.

Obviously the best one. Image: Getty.

All that, and you can get on a train that will take you under the sea to different countries entirely. It’s just magical: the only London station that doesn’t feel even slightly disappointing.


Praise is so much harder to write than snark, and I’m quite lazy, so I’ll leave it there, except to say: you know that they nearly demolished this place? The past was completely mad. 

Jonn Elledge is the editor of CityMetric. He is on Twitter as @jonnelledge and on Facebook as JonnElledgeWrites.

This article first appeared on our sister site, the New Statesman.

 
 
 
 

The risk of ‘cascading’ natural disasters is rising

A man watches wildfires in California, 2013. Image: Getty.

In a warming world, the dangers from natural disasters are changing. In a recent commentary, we identified a number of costly and deadly catastrophes that point to an increase in the risk of “cascading” events – ones that intensify the impacts of natural hazards and turn them into disasters.

Multiple hazardous events are considered cascading when they act as a series of toppling dominoes, such as flooding and landslides that occur after rain over wildfires. Cascading events may begin in small areas but can intensify and spread to influence larger areas.

This rising risk means decision-makers, urban planners and risk analysts, civil engineers like us and other stakeholders need to invest more time and effort in tracking connections between natural hazards, including hurricanes, wildfires, extreme rainfall, snowmelt, debris flow, and drought, under a changing climate.

Cascading disasters

Since 1980 to January 2018, natural disasters caused an inflation-adjusted $1,537.4bn in damages in the United States.

The loss of life in that period – nearly 10,000 deaths – has been mounting as well. The United States has seen more billion-dollar natural disaster events recently than ever before, with climate models projecting an increase in intensity and frequency of these events in the future. In 2017 alone, natural disasters resulted in $306bn losses, setting the costliest disaster year on record.

We decided it was important to better understand cascading and compound disasters because the impacts of climate change can often lead to coupled events instead of isolated ones. The United Nations Office for Disaster Risk Reduction, or UNISDR, claims: “Any disaster entails a potentially compounding process, whereby one event precipitates another.”

For example, deforestation and flooding often occur together. When vegetation is removed, top soil washes away and the earth is incapable of absorbing rainfall. The 2004 Haiti flood that killed more than 800 people and left many missing is an example of this type of cascading event. The citizens of the poverty-stricken country destroyed more than 98 per cent of its forests to provide charcoal for cooking. When Tropical Storm Jeanne hit, there was no way for the soil to absorb the rainfall. To further complicate existing issues, trees excrete water vapor into the air, and so a sparser tree cover often yields less rain. As a result, the water table may drop, making farming, which is the backbone of Haiti’s economy, more challenging.


Rising risk from climate change

Coupled weather events are becoming more common and severe as the earth warms. Droughts and heatwaves are a coupled result of global warming. As droughts lead to dry soils, the surface warms since the sun’s heat cannot be released as evaporation. In the United States, week-long heatwaves that occur simultaneously with periods of drought are twice as likely to happen now as in the 1970s.

Also, the severity of these cascading weather events worsens in a warming world. Drought-stricken areas become more vulnerable to wildfires. And snow and ice are melting earlier, which is altering the timing of runoff. This has a direct relationship with the fact that the fire season across the globe has extended by 20 per cent since the 1980s. Earlier snowmelt increases the chance of low flows in the dry season and can make forests and vegetation more vulnerable to fires.

These links spread further as wildfires occur at elevations never imagined before. As fires destroy the forest canopy on high mountain ranges, the way snow accumulates is altered. Snow melts faster since soot deposited on the snow absorbs heat. Similarly, as drought dust is released, snow melts at a higher rate as has been seen in the Upper Colorado River Basin.

Fluctuations in temperature and other climatic patterns can harm or challenge the already crumbling infrastructure in the United States: the average age of the nation’s dams and levees is over 50 years. The deisgn of these aging systems did not account for the effects of cascading events and changes in the patterns of extreme events due to climate change. What might normally be a minor event can become a major cause for concern such as when an unexpected amount of melt water triggers debris flows over burned land.

There are several other examples of cascading disasters. In July, a deadly wildfire raged through Athens killing 99 people. During the same month on the other side of the world in Mendocino, California, more than 1,800 square kilometers were scorched. For scale, this area is larger than the entire city of Los Angeles.

When landscapes are charred during wildfires, they become more vulnerable to landslides and flooding. In January of this year, a debris flow event in Montecito, California killed 21 people and injured more than 160. Just one month before the landslide, the soil on the town’s steep slopes were destabilised in a wildfire. After a storm brought torrential downpours, a 5-meter high wave of mud, tree branches and boulders swept down the slopes and into people’s homes.

Hurricanes also can trigger cascading hazards over large areas. For example, significant damages to trees and loss of vegetation due to a hurricane increase the chance of landslides and flooding, as reported in Japan in 2004.

Future steps

Most research and practical risk studies focus on estimating the likelihood of different individual extreme events such as hurricanes, floods and droughts. It is often difficult to describe the risk of interconnected events especially when the events are not physically dependent. For example, two physically independent events, such as wildfire and next season’s rainfall, are related only by how fire later raises the chances of landslide and flooding.

As civil engineers, we see a need to be able to better understand the overall severity of these cascading disasters and their impacts on communities and the built environment. The need is more pronounced considering the fact that much of the nation’s critical infrastructure is aged and currently operate under rather marginal conditions.

A first step in solving the problem is gaining a better understanding of how severe these cascading events can be and the relationship each occurrence has with one another. We also need reliable methods for risk assessment. And a universal framework for addressing cascading disasters still needs to be developed.

A global system that can predict the interactions between natural and built environments could save millions of lives and billions of dollars. Most importantly, community outreach and public education must be prioritised, to raise awareness of the potential risks cascading hazards can cause.

The Conversation

Farshid Vahedifard, CEE Advisory Board Endowed Professor and Associate Professor of Civil and Environmental Engineering, Mississippi State University and Amir AghaKouchak, Associate Professor of Civil & Environmental Engineering, University of California, Irvine.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.