I think I'm turning into a transport geek

It began in 2004. I was working as a Fleet Manager for a in car security firm in Mitcham. The MD had a 1964 Routemaster bus (It was an RMC 1496 actually) parked up in the one of the hangers and for reason's I won't bore you with I was charged with trying to get an MOT for the beast.

This proved to be an amazingly difficult task. The local DfT centre kept failing it (presumably they didn't want vehicles of that size and class on the road anymore) and we had to arrange to have it driven to a centre in Guildford where it passed with flying colours (and perfectly legally I should stress). This in itself is not easy since the last time it was driven above 35 mph the carburetor went bang.

Suffice to say it was a bit of a saga which afforded me more than a passing knowledge of that particular vintage of bus. Shortly afterwards I suggested to Mrs RD that we visit the London Transport Museum right here in swinging London. To my delight and astonishment she didn't divorce me and even bought me a toy Routemaster in the shop.

After moving employer (to an office around the corner from the LT Museum funnily enough) I fell in with some uber-transport geeks who have been delighting me with the joys of the Crossrail Saga and the East London Line Extension and other wonder of the TFL empire. Each morning my train takes me past building work at New Cross Gate which is a construction ambitious enough to rival a Bond villain and each morning I press my nose against the window to see what has changed.

I've discovered such blogs as London Connections and its successor London Reconnections plus the gloriously self indulgent Going Undergrounds Blog.

I suppose part of it is that as a Greater London resident working in central London and not owning a car, I need to be familiar with the capital's myriad and to some, baffling transport infrastructure. However, if that was all it was about, I'd be kidding myself.

As I look into the future, I can see myself becoming genuinely enthused. This is a worry. I've never regarded trainspotting as a worthy past time and am concerned that my growing interest in all things alightable may result in standing at the end of Platform 13 at Clapham Junction Railway staion whispering into a dictaphone.

I would like to think that Mrs RD would be on hand to steer me clear of such an appalling fate. However, the joint year's friendship to the LT Museum that she bought me for my birthday suggests that she is happy to accompany me on this perilous journey.

Ding ding