I passed through King’s Cross again last week. It doesn’t happen often, but I am slowly getting used to the place. I am especially getting used to it not being Euston. When I first began travelling south on the East Coast trains it was hard to unthink my mind from arriving off a West Coast train. I’d even planned my route to the nearest cash machine, when I realised I was in the ‘wrong’ station.
It’s quite nice there, though. Much fancier than it used to be in my InterRail days. Although, because of that, it feels less charmingly English. But that’s just me being difficult. And the IRA bomb dealt with the charm.
This time I even stopped for long enough to read the sign above the escalator near platform 9 3/4 to discover that it is actually the convenient way to the tube. Should you have arrived off the Hogwarts Express and wish to cross London in the conventional way.
Last week the queue for platform 9 3/4 was far longer than those for the more normal trains. It seems people will happily queue for this. Judging by the amount of Swedish flying all around me, it must have been half term in some part of Sweden.
I’ve not actually investigated what it is you do once you’re at the head of the queue. I think you merely borrow a scarf, which someone then holds on to for you, and someone else takes a photo as you attempt to ram the brick wall. And your parents or friends may also take a photo. I think. One which presumably is rather cheaper than the official one.
I’ve never seen the cost mentioned, but I’m sure there is a price to pay. There always is.
It could, of course, be worth it.
Likewise, I’ve not gone into the Harry Potter shop next to it. Strikes me like a very risky thing to do. (I well recall visiting the Harrods toy department just before Christmas 2001. We exited the proud owners of a lovely Hermione Granger, but she also came at a cost.)