HUNDREDs of tracks

100 posts since I arrived in dear old New Cross.
The light keeps running through our bodies around New Cross Gate station, who shut down its tube-platform. There is but a ghost of the EastLondonLine, a shadow of the Olympic games and the massive changes it implicates. The track is filled with litter, which is sadly often the way of dealing with emptiness around here. We now take the train to London Bridge, which is well packed for rush hours - you'd better make the place you're taking with your bag-pack available.
No more smelly but charismatic tube to head for the City.

Tracks. Leading to the Olympic games, the future of a dynamic south-East, the making of a place in New Cross - where all is in the making, always.
And somehow, the light keeps its underlying peace. But New Cross is just a run down the hill...

the conclusion to this is that numbers are mean, and counting a difficult feat.
So have a merry 26th of January!