The Number 48 Route

Tuesday 6 October 2009

We met at 10.15 at London Bridge, we being Linda and Jenny and John and me. John is only the second man (oops, I mean 3rd, please see comment below; perhaps I should have said 'this was the first time we had people from Exeter with us') to come on a bus, so that was especially delightful. The 48 was a very busy bus, which meant that we did not get the front seats, but we had plenty of time to admire the scenery because the traffic was amazingly slow. After 30 minutes we still had not reached the Bank of England. We sat for a while wondering if the statue in Tudor gear on the side of the building was Thomas Gresham (bad money drives out good) or some other Elizabethan, but prolonged googling has failed to find the answer, and we no longer know anyone who works at the Bank.

The Woodin's Shades pub seemed to have an odd name, but it proves to be less exciting than you might think. We were impressed that they had already named an alley after Nicholas, when you think he was only born at the end of August (sorry, grandmotherly joke)

As we left the City the traffic finally speeded up a little. We had been this way before, and were soon in shoe and handbag land. We liked Hackney's new street banners ('Get the X Factor, register to vote' and '9 of London's best parks'

We crossed the Regent's Canal, and later various bits of the River Lea and the Navigation. Well may Hackney be called 'The Venice of the North' though I know it isn't.

The Levy Centre looked impressive, and the work that CSV does deserves a good training facility like this one. Our bus also passed Mother's Square, originally a nineteenth century Salvation Army home for single mothers but now housing, and, once we were in Waltham Forest, the Master Baker's Almshouses

We arrived at Walthamstow Central's handsome bus garage at 11.45, about 20 minutes later than the timetable suggested, thanks to the gas mains of the City. We barely had time to use the facilities and buy a newspaper (John) and peppermints (me) before leaping onto our next bus, about which you already know.