Norman Foster produced one of his cleanest designs for the terminal, intended to restore a sense of romance to the by-now commodified process of mass air travel (it opened in 1991).
His intention was that, as soon as you walked into the terminal doors, you would be able to see all the way through a tall, single space to a glass wall at the far end, beyond which the waiting planes would be seen along with landings and take-offs from the runway.
Alas, it didn't work out like that, and the open, airy space was soon filled with tawdry Sock Shop and Sunglass Hut concessions, along with genuine Oirish pubs and McBurger lard outlets, all blocking any hope of a vista through the terminal.
Foster also intended the airport to have properly integrated transport links, so a railway station was designed as an integral part. For reasons which remain unclear, Foster decided to dump the station in the basement, buried in a forest of concrete columns.
Arriving by electric train is a decidedly less glamorous process than arriving by polluting cars or coaches, where you sweep up to the grand entrance in fine style:
Whereas the station is a depressing, sewer-like place which reeks of being the afterthought it undoubtedly was:
God knows, I like simple, bare concrete where it's properly handled and protected from the elements, but even I struggle to feel much warmth for this station:
The contrast is all the more stark with what's at the other end of the railway -- a brightly refurbished Liverpool Street Station (admittedly not my favourite station overhaul, but still in a different league of welcome from Stansted).
Because then state corporation BAA paid a substantial chunk towards building the railway to Stansted, the trains operating the service were kitted out in their livery and labelled "Stansted Express" -- the only non-British Rail liveries then operating on the nationalised rail network.
BR provided a fleet of new Class 322 trains, a more comfortable version of their inner suburban Class 321s with slightly more leg-room, 2+2 seating rather than 3+2, and a few luggage racks.
The half-hearted description I've just used was meant to reflect BR's half-hearted attitude to the Stansted Express. Within a short while the non-stop pattern of services had been replaced with stops at one or two of the major conurbations on the route, the Stansted Express thus being transformed into more of a volume commuter service with a few airport passengers on board.
The railway has used a bewildering variety of rolling stock on this service -- the 322s are long-gone -- and a succession of private sector operators has changed the livery almost at random.
Today, it's mostly worked by Class 317s, very basic, bog standard electric multiple units which were designed with more focus on economy than comfort.
The interiors are appalling -- tired and cramped:
While these trains are due to be replaced by new Bombardier Electrostar Class 379s in the not-too-distant future, the Stansted Express is currently the very poor relation of London's airport rail services.
Even the bargain basement Heathrow Connect service is operated by trains in a different league from Stansted's:
The first of the new Electrostars is due to begin testing this month. Not before time, I'd say.
2 comments:
If you think 317s are uncomfortable, try going from Leeds to Manchester (1hr journey) on a class 142 / 144, with thier cramped unsupportive 1980's bus style seats, bouncy ride, screetchy bogies, noisy engines and draughty interior. Class 317s are heavenly by comparison!
You're right, of course, but it's always dangerous to draw comparisons with worse equipment -- it makes our masters think that we should be grateful that we're not travelling over a bumpy route while naked and astride a cheese-grater, rather than that we should be travelling in modern and efficient trains designed for their primary purpose and in a moderate degree of comfort.
The Pacers should not be operating on the railway at all, and it's a disgrace that they are. I was last on one a couple of years back for a journey of no more than 10 minutes, and by the end of that I'd had more than enough of them.
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