Journey to the End of the Line

Aboard the Metropolitan Line Underground passengers are texting furiously as they travel overground to the outer reaches of existence.

Yesterday I travelled to the end of the line.  From Aldgate on the Metropolitan Line you travel for seventy minutes westwards and northwards through London passing through Liverpool Street, King's Cross and St Pancras and Baker Street, then emerging into daylight at Finchley Road before filling with football fans at Wembley Park and debouching them at Harrow on the Hill, until looking out the window you see green.  You see fields and farms and horses and cows.  You are still inside the carriage of a Metropolitan Line Tube train but you are entering another universe and passing into the outer reaches of existence.  

No streets, no litter bins, no recycling, no off street parking.  Instead from the window of the Underground train you see England's green and pleasant land. 

Arriving at Chesham.

Chesham high street.

I travelled to Chesham for the hell of it.  I like to see where the world ends.  A few years ago I journeyed to Amersham on London Underground, again mostly above ground with views of cows, also to peer into the abyss that lies beyond London.

This cottage in Chesham is called the Old Poor House.  There is no new one.