The Time I Lived My Dream And Went To Cockfosters Station

Regular readers know that I’m super-immature and that rude words make me laugh. I mean, my friend Mark and I have a list of over 700 rude place names worldwide, albeit mostly in the UK, and we drive around taking pictures of them. (More to come on that front next Monday.) However, our latest road sign road trip took far longer than we’d allowed for (as usual), and we did not get to the promised land of Cockfosters London Underground Station that day.

Mark’s been to Cockfosters before, but I have not. It’s the forbidden fruit. The absolute ball’s deep end of the Tube line, it’s 50 minutes away from my most convenient Tube stations (which takes about an hour to get to from deepest darkest semi-rural Kent anyway) in so-north-London-it’s-hardly-even-London territory, one of the termini of the sprawling Piccadilly line. As such, it appears on all Tube station signs advertising Northbound Piccadilly services. I’ve been laughing like a drain at the name Cockfosters since I was 14 years old. It’s number 100 on my Travel Destinations Bucket List, for Christ’s sake.

As luck had it, I was out in London for a friend’s birthday and staying at hers overnight. She lives… in North London. Closest station: Manor House, on the Piccadilly line, just 7 tantalising stops from a London Underground station with the letters ‘COCK’ spelt out proudly. I knew how I was spending Sunday morning.

The further north the carriage got, the more people dissipated from the carriage. It felt like a trip to the ends of the Earth. By the time we arrived, it was just me.

Barely anyone was at the surprisingly easy on the eye station, but the few platform guards did make me shy to pose for a few minutes. But then I remembered I should be immune to embarrassment by now. And I finally let loose.

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After this 10 minute burst of snap-happiness, I was ready to get on the Tube and head back south, completely satisfied. The best part was that I never left the station, so it was essentially a free trip. YES!

This is my satisfied face (and my most disgustingly windswept hair):



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