11.7.15

#tubetear write-up

353 stations traveled through.
270 different stations completed.
51 trains taken.
4 buses ridden.
more than 3.5 miles on foot over 11 runs between different stations.
19 hours, 53 minutes from start to finish.

A story well worth telling.

The Months Before


I'll never know how I heard of the Tube Challenge, much less how I found such a crazy obsession with it. The consequences of starting my work on it were pretty noticeable, though, as this picture illustrates. On top of the clutter (and probably because of it), most of the time I dedicated to homework and general productivity became time to research and plan for the #tubetear.

None of the original schedules I made (even the ones where I had convinced myself it would be feasible to start or end at Amersham or Chesham) could possibly have been conceived had I not found Geoff Marshall's site (here). It allowed me to understand how to get around the system in a way that would make me able to actually have a chance at completing the challenge within a day.

After I found Geoff's site, a pattern started to occur. First, I'd spend a few days creating an itinerary I liked. Then, I'd become disinterested in the project for a few days. Then, I'd convince myself that my previous itinerary was inadequate and make another. The process repeated itself for at least three months before the actual #tubetear.

The #tubetear started out as something I planned to do and, God forbid, fund, on my own, just because I didn't think anybody would be receptive of my idea of going to London deliberately not to see London. However, it became pretty apparent that I could kind of turn the trip into a graduation present, which I did.

What a graduation present it was.

The Days Before

The two days before the flight over to London were spent pretty uniquely preparing for the trip. I actually tweaked my route right before it as well. On top of the logistic changes, I created a Twitter account (previously mentioned on the blog of course) just because I figured that a #tubetear would be reason enough to make one. Twitter then became a sort of log for the #tubetear as I gave up on manually logging each station I passed through approximately 10 stations in.

The flight to London was shockingly on-time, which gave me an afternoon to get myself quickly acquainted with the system and do what was necessary as far as last-minute preparations:
The food I packed for the #tubetear was not glamorous. On top of the 16 granola bars I took through British customs, I bought a 4-pack of muffins, a loaf of seeded rye bread, more granola bars, some candy, trail mix, 'island fruit mix' and two bags of popchips at the local Sainsbury's to get me through the following 23-hour day.

After a quick run around the tube, it was time to go to bed. At 7pm. I would regret that decision.

The Morning of

This section starts approximately 3 minutes before it says it does. By that, I mean I had gotten almost four and a half hours of sleep by the time my father crept through the door of the hotel room at 11:57pm after visiting relatives around the area. I awoke briefly, then went back to sleep, knowing that I would need it.

Then, at 1 in the morning, something in my body decided that it was time to stop sleeping, 2 and a half hours before I planned to wake up. I started to regret going to bed so early. With a sound asleep father by my side who is, quite frankly, not charming when awake without coffee, there was pretty much nothing I could do but try to sleep, and subsequently fail, for that period of time.

At 3:30 am, I went through a rather average morning routine and put all my crap together. Instead of staying in the dark and small confines of the hotel room, I went down to the lobby 20 minutes before the taxi I had ordered was scheduled to take me to my first stop.
After the aforementioned events in the hotel lobby, my taxi driver showed up and even had the courtesy to u-turn around a large roadway to get me to the right side of the road, dropping me off in front of what was a still-closed Osterley Tube Station.

Shortly after, as she was opening the gate, the station manager asked me if I knew where I was going as I put my travelcard through the ticket barrier. I couldn't blame her for her confusion, but briefly said 'Heathrow,' which was truthful enough to not be a lie yet vague enough to lower the peculiarity of my presence, especially given that I appeared more than fifteen minutes before the first train was due to arrive.

As I descended to the platform, I felt that there was something utterly awesome and chilling about being at a random tube station at 4:35am.


Then, as if to intentionally disturb some of the only peace and quiet I'd experience all day, a massive freight train came through the opposite tracks. Ew.


Then I got on the first train of the day.

First Train - Acton Town


Completed: 12
Traveled through: 18

Despite my massive fatigue and eight hours of jet-lag, I was in a pretty good mood as the first train came clambering down the tracks. The driver looked at me, seemingly incredulously, before continuing with the regular braking routine. And if there were any omens or symbols to be found in the situation, the train's arrival right on time at 4:49 would probably have been the only one.

Until the whole concept of an on-time train was thrown out the window whilst I painstakingly waited for the train to move from the tracks just outside of where I had departed from. The train was late to only its second stop of the day, and continued sitting on the tracks between stations throughout the whole of the ride.

The worst moment in that series of early delays came as we stopped on a section of track parallel to a sidewalk outside of Hatton Cross, while we watched pedestrians pass by us for 5 minutes. We were far enough behind the schedule to the point where, at Heathrow Terminal 4, the announcement about how the train would wait at the platform for a few minutes was interrupted by the train leaving the platform (trains usually wait a few minutes at Heathrow Terminal 4 before continuing to Heathrow 1-2-3).

Of course, these delays had already jeopardized my first connection of the day at Heathrow 1-2-3, but it seemed that these problems had also affected the train behind us, the one I was connecting to, and I managed to run across the platform to make it just before the doors closed.

The train back out of the dungeons of Heathrow Terminal 5 was 6 minutes late and would stay that way, meaning the ride up to Acton Town was spent trying (and failing) to figure out how I was going to reroute. By that point, I thought that it would be impossible to make the last Kensington (Olympia) train of the morning.

Acton Town - Richmond


Completed: 17
Traveled through: 23

At 6.00 am, I still really hadn't made up my mind on how to catch up with the already lost 6 minutes of time. My planned itinerary was well out the window, as I had no chance of making a 5.57 connection two stations down. So, I instinctively hopped on to a District line train to chalk off the ever-annoying Chiswick Park.

I pulled up my tube arrivals app and found that I had a chance of making a train down to Richmond that would get me there in time for a 6.19 departure back up the branch, which, in theory, would have allowed me to make the last of the morning Kensington (Olympia) services. Thus, I quickly ran across Turnham Green station and popped on the train.
By this point, morale was, well, not exactly overly positive.
What happens next can only be blamed on pure idiocy and lack of caffeine. Somehow, the GENIUS idea popped into my head that I would get to Kensington (Olympia) faster if I took a local 391 bus from outside of Richmond station, never mind the stations I would have skipped on the way there (and the fact that I still could have gotten there in time on the train). So, I walked outside, only to find out that the next bus was in 30 minutes.

As if that weren't enough, I ran back in to Richmond to catch my planned 6.19 service that would have made the Kensington (Olympia) change possible, only to see it leave the station as I reached the platform. And to add to that, Richmond trains only run every 10 minutes, so I was down 16 minutes, just 16 stations into the challenge. Morale?
A rough start, combining shocking tube service and exceptional stupidity on my part.

Richmond - Hammersmith


Completed: 21
Traveled through: 30

Waiting on the train at Richmond technically was only (!) 9 minutes, but it felt like a century. Nothing much happened at that point, and the train was pretty empty as we left. Service was fine, and, for a change, there was no waiting in between stations.

I figured I would just stick to my original route, minus Kensington (Olympia), and, at that point, I planned on doing 269 stations that day, pretty confident that completion was impossible at that point - as my tweets pointed out.

And, following the trend of the day, that idea was also shortly thrown out of the window. Right as my District train approached Hammersmith, an announcement came on the train, stating that due to a signal failure at Tower Hill, District line trains were experiencing delays starting around Earl's Court.

Of course, I planned on visiting Earl's Court in 3 stations' time. That wasn't going to happen. So, in the 10 second period of time between that announcement and our arrival at Hammersmith, I'd made up my mind that I would throw out the original plan and come back to that section later. I changed at Hammersmith, ran across the street, and caught a Hammersmith & City train.
And, in less than 30 minutes, I'd gone from my worst decision of the day to my best.

Hammersmith - Ealing Broadway


Completed: 49
Traveled through: 60

My attitude started to improve as I got over my mistakes, the delays and the signal failure. A man even came up to me and asked me if the next train was going to Hanger Lane, so it was good to know that I at least didn't look like a complete tourist, which helped my mood a bit.
The Central line up to West Ruislip, although not all that slow, felt like it took forever. There's really nothing special along the route. And it gets worse when other people on the train are clearly enjoying the ride more than I am.
After reading a stray copy of the local newspaper, it was time to make the run down to Ickenham, not something I was especially looking forward to. In a move of pure genius, I opened up a pretty full bag of nut mix to provide energy for the run, without sealing it after I finished my snack.
My bad mood returned as my back started hurting after only the first real run of the day. I also found stray bits of nut mix stuck to random objects in my bag. It even worsened soon after:
My tweets continued to be surprisingly bitter even as the Piccadilly sped down towards Ealing Common at a satisfying clip.
Then, as the train got closer to where I planned to get off, I checked the arrivals at Ealing Common to see if I could catch a District train to Ealing Broadway. Then I checked the TfL website for the Woodford via Hainault schedule out of Ealing Broadway, and the only way to make that elusive service? Get lucky and find a bus from Ealing Common to Broadway.

This in mind, I sprinted up the steps off the platform, went through the ticket barriers and hustled to catch the bus just before it left the stop. This was my first bit of real good fortune on the day.
Unfortunately, the bus got stuck in some pretty awful traffic, sitting just outside the station I had departed for at least three minutes. I was starting to regret not running the whole way. The bus didn't get any quicker, to the point where, a few stops in, I just decided to get off and run the rest. It turns out that I got off at the right stop without knowing it.

I sprinted across the busy street and up the hill to the station, following someone clearly as desperate as I was to catch the elusive Hainault via Woodford service. I ran through the ticket gate and nearly fell down the steps to the platform, where I saw a packed Central line train ready to depart.

I actually didn't know what train I had boarded, until the doors closed soon after, and the PA system announced, "This is a Central Line train to Woodford via Hainault". I let out a massive sigh of relief and joy.
Ealing Broadway - Woodford


Completed: 79
Traveled through: 93

I can think of few things less stimulating or interesting than a one hour and 30 minute ride on a train that was for the first hour of the ride packed with sweaty commuters getting on and off at various stations. And as most of it was underground, there was really nothing to do apart try to be as unobtrusive as possible to other commuters.

Once we got out of the tunnels around Newbury Park, the ride got quite pretty. The section of track from there until the end was mostly open, so there was a quite nice view of a lot of greenland, parks, and small towns (as I was pretty far out of London at this point). I also caught a view of a few schools still in session. Hah.




As I approached the last station on the stretch, where I knew I had to change for a train going even further up the line, I checked my app and saw that the service I was trying to connect to was leaving the station right as I was about to arrive. I got off the train, sprinted up and across the footbridge to the opposite platform, and just as I came down the steps on the other side, looked up to see my train leaving the station.

And because I had taken my view off of my footing, I immediately slipped in front of an elderly woman coming up the steps. She looked at me with a slightly confused (horrified?) look, as if to wonder why I was running down the steps, and asked me if I was alright. I tried to laugh it off, but failed. The next train was in five minutes.
Woodford - Wimbledon


Completed: 113
Traveled through: 141

The ride up to Epping felt like a car ride through a rural area more than anything else. It was absolutely beautiful, and I saw acres upon acres of forestland, rolling hills, and farms, making me wonder why there was a tube service out there. Despite the time drain it adds to the schedule, I definitely enjoyed this section.

However, my connection from Leytonstone to Leytonstone High Road was so slow that I had time to use the restroom at Leytonstone, then walk most of the way to Leytonstone High Road for the London Overground service. And I still had to wait for more than five minutes to catch a train going two stops. That definitely counts as time lost. (In retrospect, that was probably a good thing, as I was carrying both my phone and its portable charger in my hand at that point - a recharge was already needed. I probably would have dropped them had I run.)

Even though I knew I had lost time at that point, my spirits were lightly rejuvenated when I saw a British Transport Police officer at the station wearing a massive Las Vegas belt with his uniform. Not sure what to say about that...

The run to Walthamstow Central was fine and very brief, and the Victoria line service was very speedy. I sat next to a rowdy 6-piece French family who rather predictably got off at Green Park. This provided for some top-notch entertainment.

The mother was struggling to handle all four of her children, notably her youngest. The elder brothers snickered as the youngest one was continually being told by his mother to stop trying to climb up onto the window between the train carriages. The father, reading a copy of a leftover Metro newspaper, did an absolutely astounding job of ignoring the familial brouhaha around him.

Clearly, they weren't from an urban area, because they jumped up in horror and made their best efforts to cover their ears when we hit rough sections of track between Seven Sisters and Green Park. The trains roll straight over them, causing some really impressive noise, which clearly startled all five of them (the dad still as close to motionless as I've ever seen someone).

I did just miss the return train from Brixton, which typically leave thirty seconds after the other arrives. That was quite annoying, but it was salvaged with a perfect connection at Stockwell and a very short wait for a return train at Kennington.

The ride down to Morden was almost empty, seeing as it was midday at that point, and quite boring as well as underground, meaning that like on the Central line stretch, I couldn't distract myself with my phone. The return train from Morden was quite fast as well, and I thought I had struck bank when I ran to barely make a bus to Wimbledon just outside of South Wimbledon station.
However, once I got off the bus, sprinted the last two blocks to Wimbledon station and passed through the ticket barriers onto the platform, I saw the District train leaving. The just missed train count, at this point, was way too high, and it was only midday.
Wimbledon - Upminster


Completed: 152
Traveled through: 182

Despite the missed train at Wimbledon, I was actually pretty good. I figured that having more than 100 stations done by noon on a day already filled with a signal failure and other delays was fine for a beginner. On top of that, my father had agreed to get me lunch and hop on for a few hours at Earl's Court, the station closest to where we were staying. The 100 station mark was nice, but lunch was sounding really, really good.

The ride out of Wimbledon was unremarkable, and I was more focused on making sure I could meet my father at Earl's Court than on looking out the window (although crossing over the Thames was quite pretty), so most of this was spent coordinating our lunch plan.

He brought me a couple of falafel wraps, which I hastily devoured. There weren't many people on the train, so I didn't feel like too much of a pig. I then finished off the meal with a Kinder bueno. Those candy bars are so good that I brought 32 back from England in my carry-on through U.S. customs, comprising the vast majority of the weight of my bag.

Back to the point - this section was probably one of the luckiest parts of the day, in retrospect. That's because the two signal failures that happened that day were both on the stretch of track from Earl's Court to Aldgate (at Tower Hill in the morning, and at Temple in the afternoon). Both caused severe delays on the District, Circle and Hammersmith & City lines for hours after.

This means that while Dad and I were on this stretch of the #tubetear, we were in the approximately two or three hour window between the signal failures and their repercussions on the District line, meaning that we were unaffected by TfL's screw-ups.

After our brief run from Aldgate to Aldgate East (shoutout to dad for bearing with me on this one), we dropped onto the platform to see a District line train just pulling out of the station. But the previous signal failure had seemed to create a backlog of Upminster-bound District trains, and the next one was in less than a minute. In the end, I'd actually benefitted from the signal failure (apart from having to reroute at Hammersmith at 6.30 am). Win.

The ride to Upminster was almost empty and utterly unremarkable. And banterous.



Upminster - Elephant & Castle


Completed: 161
Traveled through: 194

At Upminster, my father and I got off the train. I had warned him that we would be far out of London, but he really and truly realized what I meant when we stepped onto the platform. If my father's presence hadn't been enough for a midday spirit lift, the fact that there was a c2c train that would get me back to West Ham with only one stop on the way was definitely enough.

This was furthered by the fact that we both managed to fit in a toilet stop right before the c2c train arrived, although I think Dad's was cut short when I shouted to him that the train was arriving (he was still in the stall).

The only damper to my mood here was that it somehow took 2 hours to get from Wimbledon to Upminster. I did not expect this section to drain that much time, but looking back on pretty much every iteration of my earlier schedules, this was to be expected.

We had a bit of fun and banter in the quiet car on the way back. It was kind of an oasis from the noise and craziness everywhere else on the #tubetear.
Once we got to West Ham, it was time for a run again. Like at Aldgate, Dad matched me pretty much pace for pace as we sprinted through the unexpectedly long corridors at West Ham. As we descended the stairs to the joint Jubilee line platforms, I instinctively turned right, only to quickly realize that I was headed for the wrong platform. I doubled back (father assumedly in total confusion at this point), sprinted a few paces to the other side, and made a desperate but ill-fated attempt at sticking my foot through the closing doors of the departing Jubilee train. It ended up looking more like a rage-triggered kick at the train.

Although I was pretty annoyed that my own idiocy had once again caused a missed train, I was pleased to know that the next train was in only two minutes. After boarding that Jubilee and listening to a fellow passenger's rant for most of the ride, mostly concerning workplace issues, my father and I parted ways, as I got off at Southwark to double back. Trains from here on were quite rapid until the end of this section, and service was frequent, meaning very short connections at all stations (I even just made a Northern Line by running through London Bridge. That always feels good.)

Elephant & Castle - Amersham


Completed: 194
Traveled through: 230

The Bakerloo line might be my least favorite on the London Underground. This might be in no small part due to the fact that when I sat down on the rusty, disgusting old train at Elephant & Castle after vigorously running around the Tube for 10 hours on a hot and humid London summer day, I was greeted by a vent that was FURIOUSLY BLOWING HOT AIR. THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE GOD DAMNED TRAIN. Why this was a good idea (especially underground, where it's actually typically hotter) was a question gods of gods would probably be dumbfounded by. It proceeded to do so for THE WHOLE TRAIN RIDE.

It's also slow, packed with idiots, and pretty much never runs from end to end, which was what was needed on this occasion. So the train I had boarded was a Stonebridge Park-bound service that inched its way through the tunnels of most of the extremely popular tube stations in London.

Somewhere quite early in this train service, a massive group of schoolgirls around my age packed onto the train and did an excellent job of surrounding me. They were accompanied by two or three chaperones that were clearly exhausted from the task that had been presented to them. After a few stations my presence had been enough to pique their curiosity (pretty much everyone was still in school from what I gathered, meaning I was an outcast) and they got around to chatting with me.

They were rather disappointed when they learned that 'West Coast' was not synonymous with California and that I was instead from boring ol' Seattle, Washington. They never inquired about the rather odd juxtaposition of my rather nice, non-sporty backpack and my attire of a soccer jersey and running shorts, meaning I didn't have to go through the rather awkward process of explaining the #tubetear. They were confused, and rather suspicious, that my tube knowledge was well superior to theirs (and that was about it). Before they got off, we had a rather raucous conversation about music celebrities, peppered with enough inappropriate remarks and language about said musicians to start a continuous and unsuccessful queue of 'no's, 'now..'s and 'watch your mouth!'s from their chaperones.

Thank God I wasn't too sweaty/stinky at that point, maybe the heating had a reverse effect. I certainly wasn't the only person noticing it

After that, I had an unexpectedly excruciating, 5-minute plus wait at Stonebridge Park for the next train to Harrow & Wealdstone, and then doubled back for the one stop down to Kenton, where I took off on a pretty brisk jog down to Northwick Park. And the jog had to be brisk, because in a bit of good fortune, I just barely made the Amersham train leaving the platform.

The ride up to Amersham was long and boring, as expected, but the scenery was pretty at parts and the train was of the new S8 stock (and thus air-conditioned), so I was fine and enjoyed a brief snack to rejuvenate myself after the short run from Kenton.

After using the bathrooms at Amersham, I crossed over the bridge, settled down on the platform, and embarked on a marathon. A different kind of marathon.

Amersham - West Harrow


Completed: 198
Traveled through: 245

If I hadn't succeeded at completing the #tubetear, I most certainly would have blamed this section for my failure. After I switched platforms at Amersham, the marathon started: a marathon of waiting, bored and frustrated, at stations well outside of London, watching every train possible go by that wasn't mine. I had around 20 minute waits at both Amersham and Chalfont & Latimer, and then a ~15 minute one at Chesham. Then at Moor Park, I had a 10+ minute wait, before sitting on the train at Watford for at least another five minutes. That's around 1 hour and 10 minutes of waiting.

At least it was pretty. The sun was out, making things slightly better.
Of course, sitting around on trains got me pretty bored. Like really bored. Boredom that required me to find the worst way of entertaining myself: making crappy puns. Not a good solution.
To make things worse, the next section was crucial to completion. Because I'd lost so much time in this section of the tube, I had to make it down to Kensington to make a Kensington (Olympia) train. There were only four services left in the day, two in each direction, and they were grouped in duos in terms of time. This meant that I would have to plan a route to get to that section of London in time for one of them while still checking off new stations. Clearly, I wasn't ready for this.
On top of that, I had a run from North Harrow to West Harrow coming up, and by this point, I had been awake for fifteen hours. Nutritional habits weren't my strong point by this hour of the day.
The run was an absolute pain in the ass. If it hadn't been for the purposes of getting around to 270 tube stations in one day, I undoubtedly would have given up after the first two uphill blocks out of North Harrow. However, this odd motivation continued to make me push myself harder to get to West Harrow. I'm glad I did. Even if it wasn't the world's fastest ever run, I was pretty much done for when I got to West Harrow:



West Harrow - Kensington (Olympia)


Completed: 210
Traveled through: 265

West Harrow was expectedly pretty barren when I walked through the ticket barriers, which were open for some reason. I quite liked the view and weather at the station, however.


The train arrival board played with my emotions a bit, telling me the train was in five minutes, a minute before my train arrived.
I boarded the surprisingly pretty full train and sat fairly close to where I entered. Ravenously hungry after making a 110% commitment to the run that had gotten me there, I took out my loaf of seeded rye and ripped off a massive hunk. In my tiredness, I had forgot that bread *usually* has flour on it, and made a colossal mess of said substance all over my backpack, seat, and the surrounding area of the train. Unmoved and calorie-craving, I ate and then made a half-assed attempt at cleaning up the mess, before taking to Twitter to express my complicated, confusing and intriguing mental and physical state.
The first bit of speed in a long time came when I passed through the Wembley to Baker Street section on the Metropolitan line. It felt so good passing a couple of Jubilee trains after an absolutely excruciatingly slow run through the northwestern section of the tube.

At Baker Street, however, things slowed down again, as I waited for nine or ten minutes for a Central Line train. The service was still clearly affected by the second signal failure of the day, this one at Temple. As if that wait weren't enough, things got worse, and for the second time in the day, I was defeatist about my chances of making an Olympia service.
However, the train moved pretty quickly after that, and my connection at Hammersmith went pretty well, as I followed a smaller child jaywalking across the intersection (!) and just made the District train. This turn of events gave me plenty of time to make my following connection, from West Kensington to, yes, Kensington (Olympia). Time that I would need, because I was certainly not in a position to sprint that section. I thought I would be able to make a bus, but ended up doing it on foot.

I'd heard stories of TfL canceling their night tube service to Kensington (Olympia), meaning even if I was theoretically early for the train, which I was, there was still a pretty high chance of missing out on #tubetear completion. This tension increased as no train showed up even when the station indicator insisted one was at the platform.
And even though it was three minutes late, it did actually show up. Win.
At that point, I thought completion was pretty much guaranteed. Well, well.

Kensington (Olympia) - Finchley Central



Completed: 232
Traveled through: 297

The streak of epically awesome events continued when, inevitably, Dad came up clutch again.
Now I swear that I'm not a messy eater normally. And I'm usually one to use a fork when necessary. Both of these tend to apply even more when I am in the company of a sizable amount of people. I saw the sauce on the delicious Asian-style chicken burger (?) that Dad got me, and knew it wouldn't end well.

But it was the #tubetear and I was really, really, really hungry.

So I dug in, finished it unsettlingly quickly, and ended up with pretty thick, peanut-y sauce on my nose. A few napkins and a wet-wipe later, I was a little cleaner, but still hungry, so I popped out a candy bar and ate that.

Dad says that the considerable amount of people around us on the Piccadilly looked at me, envious of my delicious food, but I think it was more the shock of seeing a grown teenager eating like a caveman in the tube an hour after rush hour on a Thursday in Central London that had attracted their attention.

It was only after my father asked me something along the lines of, "So what's left?", that I realized that completion was probably impossible. Again.

I drew the route with my finger on the small map in my tube app and realized that I had roughly around four to five hours to check off the Cockfosters, High Barnet, Mill Hill East, Stanmore and Edgware branches of the tube and then somehow check off High Street Kensington and Bayswater after that. I could read the doubt in my father's face, and if things weren't bad enough, the food I'd just eaten seemed to have a tiring effect on me, as I started go through cycles of dozing off and waking myself up.

To make things worse, the Piccadilly train didn't go through to Cockfosters, so we wasted a few minutes waiting impatiently for a train on the platform at Arnos Grove. After we'd gotten on that train, I determined we would have to take the bus to High Barnet from Oakwood instead of Cockfosters, meaning we had to double back.

Back at Oakwood, I really, really had to relieve myself (as the last time I had done so was at Amersham). Luckily, Oakwood had a bathroom, and bad timing meant that our bus was eight minutes away. This presented me with the opportunity to let nature run its course. However, the door had a slot that said 20p pieces ONLY. I sprinted back outside and asked my dad if he had a 20p piece on him. He gave me a 50p piece and told me to get change for it.

I went to the local fish n chips joint, didn't get anything but two 20p pieces and quickly made a trip to the bathroom, then boarded the 307. When we got off at High Barnet, the 384 bus I could have taken pulled up right behind us, which meant that I could have saved a lot of hassle without losing time. Oh well.

Dad and I ran down to the tube station and waited for a few minutes before boarding a train down to Finchley Central for the tedious Mill Hill branch, which runs about every 20 minutes, praying that we would make one. We were definitely feeling the tension at this point, and things couldn't move fast enough.
We missed the Mill Hill service and waited 15 minutes, and then the obligatory 6 minutes of time that the train lays over at Mill Hill East. Luck was really down at this point. As if to drive me up the walls even more, one of the few people on the way up to MHE asked me if I knew this was the last stop as they got off in the most sarcastic, mocking tone. God.

A slightly humorous touch came when we were rolling back into Finchley Central, and Dad, clearly confused, asked something along the lines of, "Wait, we change again?" I felt the same way.

The long waits at this point meant that Mill Hill East was reached at 10:09 pm. We'd already gone through 2 hours out of the four or four and a half I thought I'd have to finish up. This was not good.

Finchley Central - End


Completed: 270
Traveled through: 353(!)

It must have been somewhere around this point that Dad made the decision to stick with me until the end. I think half of it was motivated by legitimate interest over whether I could finish, and the other half was probably just making sure his son wasn't going to be stuck asleep on a train in greater London at 2AM that night.

When we got back to Finchley Central, I made yet another change in plans. I had originally (originally meaning two hours before) planned to check off Tottenham Court Road from Finchley Central, and then go back up to Edgware, down the Jubilee and do a U-turn at Moorgate to change for Bayswater and High Street Kensington.

However, the next Northern line train that would serve Tottenham Court Road was in 9 minutes, and the next one that would serve Moorgate was in two. Knowing I had approximately 0 seconds to lose at this point, I decided to take the one in two minutes out of Finchley Central, further confusing my father.

We got off at Moorgate, and the Northern line train down wasn't all that fast. I was maximally pessimistic at this point.
My mood worsened when, as I got on the Metropolitan line at Moorgate, I was stuck next to a three- or four-some of semi-wasted twentysomethings that clearly had egos the size of God, having a conversation the whole train could hear about weed, alcohol and their evident struggles surrounding the topic of sex. Expected, at that hour, but still unpleasant.

The change at Baker Street was fine, and we caught a train that actually did go all of the way to Stanmore, so that was a plus, given past experiences on the Bakerloo and Piccadilly lines. It didn't mean that I thought I had enhanced chances of getting all 270 stations done that night.
This was especially the case when my train got held at Neasden for absolutely no reason. However, the train back to Canons Park from Stanmore left quickly, and then things slowly started falling into place.

Feeling a slight need to go to the restroom again, I debated whether to use the facilities at Canons Park as we sprinted across the platform to the bus stop. Knowing I had absolutely no time to spare, however, I decided against doing so, and subsequently, a 186 bus showed up right as we exited the station. That was a good decision.
That 186 connection was one of the most crucial moments of the whole #tubetear. The bus dropped us off less than 30 feet from the entrance to Edgware station, where we waited an agonizing five minutes or so for the train to Tottenham Court Road.
I was still completely aware of how much luck I would need at this point.
Shortly after, I made the final decision to change at Leicester Square instead of turning back at Tottenham Court Road, knowing that the last Central Line service through Bayswater left South Kensington at 00:35, well later than the last train the other way from Baker Street. I showed my plan to my father, who agreed.

We then went into the tunnels for what seemed like forever, even though the driver was clearly ready to get off the job that night. I stopped looking at my phone from that point on, not wanting to know what the time was (because I knew when the last trains were, and if I 'd seen we were late, would have given up or broken down). I still didn't know whether we would make our final connections, and was actually pretty sure we would miss them from the timing that I had observed from making my previous itineraries.

A few stops before the change at Leicester Square, I got up out my seat, as my father did, to get ready for a sprint through the absolutely endless corridors of Leicester Square. I spent that time jumping up and down in complete nervousness.

We lined up at the door of the Northern line train as if we were starting a race. Not knowing the station, I figured it would be pretty quick, but the run felt like it took forever. My sprint speed was definitely on the decline and had been for a while when I made it to the Piccadilly line platform, where, as if on cue, the doors to a Piccadilly line train opened. I boarded, looked back, and to my surprise, there was my father, who had kept up with me the whole way. He got on just as the doors closed.

At this point, I was in a completely crazy state of nervousness and excitement. It all came down to one change at this point. Like on the train before, I profusely prepared myself for the upcoming run up the stairs of South Kensington station, jumping up and down and stretching out my legs. I probably had a slew of weird looks coming my way at this point.

At South Kensington, we got off and made the sprint up the stairs to the Circle line. I instinctively looked up at the arrivals board, where I was greeted with "1    Edgware Road" staring at me straight in the eyes. In disbelief, I approached the station manager, there to clear up the station as it was the last train, and asked him if the train went to Edgware Road. He said yes, and I let out a roaring "YES!!!" the whole station heard, running down the platform in joy.
The train showed up after a minute, and I boarded. Bayswater wasn't far away, and we arrived at 00:42, sending me into a state of utter joy that was rather understated on my Twitter.
Pure exhilaration.

In the end, I was extremely lucky. Although the last train was supposed to leave South Kensington at 00.35, Dad later told me that we had actually gotten there at 00.37.

Here's how I thought this would go at various points in the day, just to give you an idea of how topsy-turvy this whole ordeal ended up being..

4.49 am - Right, I'm gonna kick ass and be done by 10.30pm.
6.00 am - Never mind.
6.19 am - I'm too stupid to make 250 let alone complete this thing.
9 am - I'll make 269 and miss Kensington (Olympia).
5pm - Wow. I could do this.
6pm - Never mind.
8pm - This is happening.
9pm - Not happening. Thanks for the reminder, Dad.
00.42am - Did I actually, oh my god, ...


The After

We celebrated by going to a local Middle Eastern place, relieving ourselves, and getting a 1.00am shawarma before taxi-ing home. It was pretty awesome.
London being one of my father's many childhood homes, we filled up the rest of the trip by making a quick visit to his old home and school, eating some fish & chips and curry for the last two dinners of our time there, and making a trip to Southend to clear out my lungs.

Thanks/acknowledgments

Dad - this guy. You put aside your TOWER of work at your job for what amounted to five days to help your god damned graduate son fulfill one of his stupid, petty obsessions/dreams. You were positive and awesome throughout the trip, got some crucial photos of me, and totally supportive.

As far as the #tubetear is concerned, there is no way that this was happening without you. You brought me delicious food twice, probably would have kept me from going asleep, and DIDN'T EVEN EAT DINNER (!!!!!) (apart from a beer, of course) before embarking on five hours of running, praying, and general crazy s**t deep into the night, all to help me out. You're sound.

Mom - because you basically got me to London and back - and reminded me countless times to look the right way for cars in England (still didn't) and to not get run over and killed (managed it).

Relatives - for basically funding this trip as my grad present and for supporting me and following that crap Twitter,,,,

Geoff Marshall - for teaching me how to do this

Sainsbury's - for doing what a grocery store is supposed to do

TfL - for keeping tube service barely functional enough for completion

And lastly, luck, for coming up big.
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