Walking the Thames Tunnel

The letter said ‘no alcohol’ before the tour, so of course we met in the pub on the corner. Suitably fortified, we promptly set off to stand outside Rotherhithe station, along with half the pub’s clientele. It seems we were not the only ones to ignore instructions, and down a quick pint before walking in history’s dusty footsteps.

This is looking at the original section of the tunnel

The gated doors were manned by two smiling tube officials in their fluorescent jackets. Four more laughed and joked inside, which made a nice change considering most of the underground staff I see while commuting look distinctly less thrilled with their lot in life. This alone convinced me we were in for something special.

Once inside, we were ushered to collect latex gloves so we didn’t get mad rat disease. One size fits all was the rule, which meant my gloves mainly flapped in the breeze, each fingertip with its own trailing flag. We then had our health and safety talk, which consisted of ‘stand still if we need to evacuate’. We nodded in faux agreement, stamped feet, and flopped gloves. And then we were off!



Down the stairs to the platform, and scaffolding had been erected for us walkers so we could step down to the tube lines. There is something ever so much fun about standing where you ought not to be. The tunnels stretched with a line of light before us, accentuating the dip and slight incline in the curve of electric. Back in the day this would have been flickering gas light. We were cautioned not to stand on the rails, not because of any power of course as it was switched off, but in case we fell from the slight height. I looked at them in alarm anyway; after years of terrifying public safety films as a child I would rather go outside and lick the road than go near any rails, powerless or not.

Instead of it being one large tunnel, as I presumed from Victorian illustrations, it was two twin tunnels. Strange serendipity means that although the tunnels were built for horse-drawn carts, they are the exact size for current day tube trains. Archways linked each tunnel at strategic gaps, and it was from these small gaps that Victorian traders would sell their wares to the passing promenade. They wouldn’t have been very private for a naughty rendezvous, but that apparently didn’t dissuade the more naughty-minded of the public towards the latter years.

The older style walls of the tunnel have been left at one end to preserve its link with history, as you can see from my top photograph. It was odd to think of all those people who came down here to walk through ‘a wonder of the world’ – six million Victorians made their way down here to gawp and admire, and now two thousand modern Elizabethans to add to the list, with our walking shoes and cameras. I loitered at the back taking pictures, and sauntered along beside a knowledgeable tube official engineer. I sensed he wanted me to ask him some clever questions. But try as I might, I could not think of one clever question to ask him whatsoever. Sadly our conversation went more like this:

Him: This is one of the signal boxes. *points it out*
Me: Ooo. Um. Er. *stares at it* Does it control the signals?
Him (patiently): Yes.
Me: Ah. It’s a nice colour.
Him (contemplates it): Yes, I suppose it is.
Me (striking up bold conversation): So you’re an engineer?
Him: Yes.
Me: Right. Um. *casts around desperately for something engineer-y to say* This rail is shiny.
Him (as if speaking to small child): Yes, it is rather, isn’t it? And this one is greasy.
Me: Yes! That one is greasy. *pleased with discovery like child*
Silence for a bit.
Me: Tunnels are really cool aren’t they?
Him (ponderingly): Yes I suppose they are.

I bet he was really pleased when someone came along and asked him something proper.

This is the newer section of the tunnel - you can see the walls are different

At the end of the day it is just a tunnel, I suppose, but what a great place to point a camera! We clambered back up the scaffolding to the surface, and then went along to the 'fancy fair' at the Brunel museum. Although the fair was good, it was a nearby pub that took our fancy, and we decided to retire with a fine ale instead. Cheers, Brunel!

Thames Tunnel

Tonight I am following in the footsteps of Marc and Isambard Kingdom Brunel; Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, various Victorian gentlefolk and pick-pockets; tube workers, and London Mayor Boris Johnson. I am going underground to walk beneath the Thames, and I am so excited!

Image courtesy of the Brunel Museum - people banqueting in the tunnel.

The Thames tunnel stretches between Wapping and Rotherhithe, and was THE place to promenade if you were an upmarket Victorian in the mid-19th century. It was the engineering brainchild of the Brunel’s, and the only project they worked upon together. When the tunnel opened people came from far and wide to walk through it and be entertained by the many side-shows that plied a trade under flickering gas-light.

Exactly under the middle of the river is a refreshment room, kept by an eccentric old man who has not been a half mile from the Tunnel since it was completed. Daylight to him is almost unknown. He does not sleep in the Tunnel, but he enters before day in the morning and does not leave until late at night. This old man on account of his many wonderful stories and jokes, in addition to good cakes and wines, has many visitors.

The sensations experienced as one sits here are very peculiar. A thin brick ceiling over head, covered with a few feet of mud, and many feet of water, with water trickling from the ceiling and through the walls; - and steamers, ships and barges sailing along far above you! Many bright eyes of timid beauties, and ominous glances of frightened old men, have I seen directed to the walls and ceiling as the crowd hurried along.
~ W. O'Daniel, Ins and Outs of London, 1859

Back in the day it cost a shilling for the public to gain entrance. Tonight it has cost me £5 – there’s inflation for you! It seems public opinion was divided between those who thought this was an amazing feat of engineering, and those who thought it was a colossal waste of public money.

This great, but for many years comparatively useless, work of Sir Isambard Brunel was carried under the river from Wapping (left bank) to Rotherhithe (right bank) at a cost of nearly half a million of money. For about twenty years after its completion it was one of the recognised sights of London, and a kind of mouldy and poverty-stricken bazaar established itself at the entrance of the tunnel. The pence of the sightseers and the rent of the stalls proved wholly insufficient even to pay current expenses, and in 1865 the Tunnel Company were glad to get rid of their white elephant at a loss of about half its original cost. It now belongs to the East London Railway Company.
~ Charles Dickens (Jr.), Dickens's Dictionary of the Thames, 1881

I shall update you more tomorrow! But I am taking my giant camera (nicknamed ‘the Beast’) which shuns digital and favours the old-fashioned film approach, so my photographs may take some time arriving on the blog.

Read more about the Thames Tunnel