Travelling to Orient ? Avoid Victoria at all costs !

[beorhthelm]

I don't think you'll find it's going to be as bad as hyped. Maybe around the 'rush hours' but I think the advice is to keep as many that don't need to be using the station at 'rush hour' away from it to avoid any uneccesary commuter build up. I wouldn't be overly worried for an evening KO in London.

i frequetly use Victoria as late as 7-730, and its often backed up at the barriers. with no down escalator it will be slow if nothing else.

so change at East Croydon to London Bridge is definatly recommended. if people do get stuck going to Victoria, use the "pacha" entrance (leave by the left exit from the main ticket office/concourse and outside, past the buses) for the District and Circle, then go down the east bound side and follow down to the Victoria line. or stay on the District anyway and change at Mile End (i recall often meeting up at the pub there for Orient games).

 

[Easy 10]

The Jubiliee Line is the DEEPEST one isn't it ?

That'll do me then.

 

[bhaexpress]

The Jubiliee Line is the DEEPEST one isn't it ?

That'll do me then.

Will that give you the low down for Orient ?

 

[clapham_gull]

I wouldn't do that. There's a reasonable frequency of trains from EC to Balham but then there's a very tedious slog up to Bank which is best avoided. Tere's quite a few connections for London Bridge at EC which would be better. I would think that coming back after the game through Victoria will be okay although I would say from experince changing at Bank from Leyton for London Bridge will still be quicker than going on to Oxford Circus for Victoria.

Simply pointing it out as an option for Brighton that gets overlooked. Importantly it connects you to CJ very quickly from the Underground and the frequency of trains is very high.

 

[Dowling93]

I booked tickets to Leyton from Brighton but didn't select a precise journey does that mean I could go to London Bridge as I put via London Bridge

 

[Easy 10]

Will that give you the low down for Orient ?

Yes. But its just a miner point.

 

[bhaexpress]

Yes. But its just a miner point.

That's the pits !

 

[MattBackHome]

This thread brings to mind Bill Bryson in Notes from a Small Island:

THERE ARE CERTAIN IDIOSYNCRATIC NOTIONS THAT YOU QUIETLY COME to accept when you live for a long time in Britain. One is that British summers used to be longer and sunnier. Another is that the England football team shouldn't have any trouble with Norway. A third is the idea that Britain is a big place. This last is easily the most intractable.

If you mention in the pub that you intend to drive from, say, Surrey to Cornwall, a distance that most Americans would happily go to get a taco, your companions will puff their cheeks, look knowingly at each other, and blow out air as if to say, 'Well, now that's a bit of a tall order,' and then they'll launch into a lively and protracted discussion of whether it's better to take the A30 to Stockbridge and then the A303 to Ilchester or the A361 to Glastonbury via Shepton Mallet. Within minutes the conversation will plunge off into a level of detail that leaves you, as a foreigner, swivelling your head in quiet
wonderment.

'You know that layby outside Warminster, the one with the grit box with the broken handle?' one of them will say. 'You know, just past the turnoff for Little Puking but before the B6029 miniroundabout.
By the dead sycamore.' At this point, you find you are the only person in the group not nodding vigorously.

'Well, about a quarter of a mile past there, not the first left turning, but the second one, there's a lane between two hedgerows they're mostly hawthorn but with a little hazel mixed in. Well, if you follow that road past the reservoir and under the railway bridge, and take a sharp right at the Buggered Ploughman '

'Nice little pub,' somebody will interject usually, for some reason, a guy in a bulky cardigan. 'They do a decent pint of Old Toejam.'

'and follow the dirt track through the army firing range and round the back of the cement works, it drops down onto the B3689 Ram's Dropping bypass. It saves a good three or four minutes and cuts out the rail crossing at Great Shagging.'

'Unless, of course, you're coming from Crewkerne,' someone else will add eagerly. 'Now, if you're coming from Crewkerne. ..'

Give two or more men in a pub the names of any two places in Britain and they can happily fill hours. Wherever it is you want to go, the consensus is generally that it's just about possible as long as you scrupulously avoid Okehampton, the Hanger Lane gyratory system, central Oxford and the Severn Bridge westbound between the hours of 3 p.m. on Fridays and 10 a.m. on Mondays, except bank holidays when you shouldn't go anywhere at all. 'Me, I don't even walk to the corner shop on bank holidays,' some little guy on the margins will chirp up proudly, as if by staying at home in Staines he has for years cannily avoided a notorious bottleneck at Scotch Corner.

Eventually, when the intricacies of Broads, contraflow blackspots and good places to get a bacon sandwich have been discussed so thoroughly that your ears have begun to seep blood, one member of the party will turn to you and idly ask over a sip of beer when you were thinking of setting off. When this happens, you must never answer truthfully and say, in that kind of dopey way of yours, 'Oh, I don't know, about ten, I suppose,' because they'll all be off again.

'Ten o'clock?' one of them will say and try to back his head off his shoulders. 'As in ten o'clock a.m.?' He'll make a face like someone who's taken a cricket ball in the scrotum but doesn't want to appear wimpy because his girlfriend is watching. 'Well, it's entirely up to you, of course, but personally if / was planning to be in Cornwall by three o'clock tomorrow, I'd have left yesterday.'

'Yesterday?' someone else will say, chortling softly at this misplaced optimism. 'I think you're forgetting, Colin, that it's halfterm in North Wiltshire and West Somerset this week. It'll be murder between Swindon and Warminster. No, you want to have left a week last Tuesday.'

'And there's the Great West Steam Rally at Little Dribbling this weekend,' somebody from across the room will add, strolling over to join you because it's always pleasant to bring bad motoring news. 'There'll be 375,000 cars all converging on the Little Chef roundabout at Upton Dupton. We once spent eleven days in a tailback there, and that was just to get out of the car park. No, you want to have left when you were still in your mother's womb, or preferably while you were spermatozoa, and even then you won't find a parking space beyond Bodmin.'

Once, when I was younger, I took all these alarming warnings to heart. I went home, reset the alarm clock, roused the family at four, to protests and general consternation, and had everyone bundled into the car and on the road by five. As a result, we were in Newquay in time for breakfast and had to wait around for seven hours before the holiday park would let us have one of their wretched chalets. And the worst of it was that I'd only agreed to go there because I thought the town was called Nookie and I wanted to stock up on postcards.

 

[pasty]

use the "pacha" entrance (leave by the left exit from the main ticket office/concourse and outside, past the buses) for the District and Circle, then go down the east bound side and follow down to the Victoria line.

I use that route to the vic line every morning about 7.40 ish. Usually quicker than the "normal" route. And before I gave up smoking (yesterday!) it gave me a chance for a smoke walking outside.

 

[Marc]

is it POTG yet? f*** sake I NEED to know innit

 

[8ace]

This work is only on weekdays, so it shouldn't be a problem on Saturday for those of us going to Bristol Rovers right?

 

[Spider]

This work is only on weekdays, so it shouldn't be a problem on Saturday for those of us going to Bristol Rovers right?

The escalators will still all be closed whether there's work happening on them or not, but the Tube in general is much quieter on Saturdays so you should be alright. I say much quieter, I've had some of the most horrendous tube journeys ever on the Piccadilly Line on Saturdays, but it should be fine!

 

[Horton's halftime iceberg]

This thread brings to mind Bill Bryson in Notes from a Small Island:

THERE ARE CERTAIN IDIOSYNCRATIC NOTIONS THAT YOU QUIETLY COME to accept when you live for a long time in Britain. One is that British summers used to be longer and sunnier. Another is that the England football team shouldn't have any trouble with Norway. A third is the idea that Britain is a big place. This last is easily the most intractable.

If you mention in the pub that you intend to drive from, say, Surrey to Cornwall, a distance that most Americans would happily go to get a taco, your companions will puff their cheeks, look knowingly at each other, and blow out air as if to say, 'Well, now that's a bit of a tall order,' and then they'll launch into a lively and protracted discussion of whether it's better to take the A30 to Stockbridge and then the A303 to Ilchester or the A361 to Glastonbury via Shepton Mallet. Within minutes the conversation will plunge off into a level of detail that leaves you, as a foreigner, swivelling your head in quiet
wonderment.

'You know that layby outside Warminster, the one with the grit box with the broken handle?' one of them will say. 'You know, just past the turnoff for Little Puking but before the B6029 miniroundabout.
By the dead sycamore.' At this point, you find you are the only person in the group not nodding vigorously.

'Well, about a quarter of a mile past there, not the first left turning, but the second one, there's a lane between two hedgerows they're mostly hawthorn but with a little hazel mixed in. Well, if you follow that road past the reservoir and under the railway bridge, and take a sharp right at the Buggered Ploughman '

'Nice little pub,' somebody will interject usually, for some reason, a guy in a bulky cardigan. 'They do a decent pint of Old Toejam.'

'and follow the dirt track through the army firing range and round the back of the cement works, it drops down onto the B3689 Ram's Dropping bypass. It saves a good three or four minutes and cuts out the rail crossing at Great Shagging.'

'Unless, of course, you're coming from Crewkerne,' someone else will add eagerly. 'Now, if you're coming from Crewkerne. ..'

Give two or more men in a pub the names of any two places in Britain and they can happily fill hours. Wherever it is you want to go, the consensus is generally that it's just about possible as long as you scrupulously avoid Okehampton, the Hanger Lane gyratory system, central Oxford and the Severn Bridge westbound between the hours of 3 p.m. on Fridays and 10 a.m. on Mondays, except bank holidays when you shouldn't go anywhere at all. 'Me, I don't even walk to the corner shop on bank holidays,' some little guy on the margins will chirp up proudly, as if by staying at home in Staines he has for years cannily avoided a notorious bottleneck at Scotch Corner.

Eventually, when the intricacies of Broads, contraflow blackspots and good places to get a bacon sandwich have been discussed so thoroughly that your ears have begun to seep blood, one member of the party will turn to you and idly ask over a sip of beer when you were thinking of setting off. When this happens, you must never answer truthfully and say, in that kind of dopey way of yours, 'Oh, I don't know, about ten, I suppose,' because they'll all be off again.

'Ten o'clock?' one of them will say and try to back his head off his shoulders. 'As in ten o'clock a.m.?' He'll make a face like someone who's taken a cricket ball in the scrotum but doesn't want to appear wimpy because his girlfriend is watching. 'Well, it's entirely up to you, of course, but personally if / was planning to be in Cornwall by three o'clock tomorrow, I'd have left yesterday.'

'Yesterday?' someone else will say, chortling softly at this misplaced optimism. 'I think you're forgetting, Colin, that it's halfterm in North Wiltshire and West Somerset this week. It'll be murder between Swindon and Warminster. No, you want to have left a week last Tuesday.'

'And there's the Great West Steam Rally at Little Dribbling this weekend,' somebody from across the room will add, strolling over to join you because it's always pleasant to bring bad motoring news. 'There'll be 375,000 cars all converging on the Little Chef roundabout at Upton Dupton. We once spent eleven days in a tailback there, and that was just to get out of the car park. No, you want to have left when you were still in your mother's womb, or preferably while you were spermatozoa, and even then you won't find a parking space beyond Bodmin.'

Once, when I was younger, I took all these alarming warnings to heart. I went home, reset the alarm clock, roused the family at four, to protests and general consternation, and had everyone bundled into the car and on the road by five. As a result, we were in Newquay in time for breakfast and had to wait around for seven hours before the holiday park would let us have one of their wretched chalets. And the worst of it was that I'd only agreed to go there because I thought the town was called Nookie and I wanted to stock up on postcards.

Marvellous...