Social media is abuzz (or at least mildly humming) over the new forecourt of King’s Cross station. That green shed out front has been removed to reveal an open space, a place for people to meet, or at least offer an easier way across to the McDonald’s at the corner. But spaces are all about movement, not just to linger.
An odd cacophony of colour greets me on my morning walk. The travelling fair has come to town. I’m surprised by this. You know, imagine if I’ve come down on a train from wherever and the first thing I see is a teacup ride. Or a slide.
I have said before of our fondness for nostalgia and fair rides of this sort are simply pure indulgence. Most adults cannot claim to have a true affection; these are products of a far earlier time. Perhaps the rides will prove popular, I dunno. Why does nostalgia make us feel so good?
It’s great this wonderful station can finally breathe. Important really. It was like it was wearing a mask, a green strip of a thing across its lips. Now it can ‘talk’ to us, and we can see into its great big glass eyes, this beautiful behemoth.
But cut the nostalgia crap! The forecourt is all about modernity. It’s stating we can liberate ourselves from this urban muck and make a wonder out of King’s Cross. We aren’t really embracing the past (which wouldn’t be ideal anyway because I’m almost certain most of us would be put off by the dirt, grime and putrid smells of the 1850s when this station was built). It’s the future and welcome to it.