The M34 is the slowest bus in Manhattan, averaging 4mph, slower than walking. The numbering of bus routes is pretty simple. Their letter(s) refers to their borough (M for Manhattan, Bx for Bronx etc.), while their number usually has some indication as to the street along which they travel (this is more true of the cross streets than the avenues). For instance, the M34 takes over half an hour to go across-town along 34th street.
But who decided upon the numbering and lettering of the subway lines? They seem pretty random to me. Unlike London, where the lines on the Underground bear some indication of where they go (e.g. Bakerloo, the inspired Waterloo & City), when they were built (Jubilee) or their general shape (Circle), each New York subway line is denoted by a letter or number. The 7 goes out to Shea stadium in Queens, our local lines are the 1, 2, 3 and 9 etc. In actual fact, each train's behaviour gets its own dedicated reference.
Now I love numbers as much as the next man (assuming the next man is a numbers freak), and I'm quite a big fan of the English language. (My affinity with specific numbers doesn't really transfer to letters, partly because there are only 26 to go at, but mainly because they don't share the same power or beauty as numbers.) But the system that they've adopted in New York makes things difficult to remember. Jubilee, Victoria, Hammersmith & City, Circle, combined with their associated colours, all bring with them a certain emotion and feeling. The Jubilee and Central lines to me evoke a sense of professionalism. The Bakerloo has always troubled me (not sure why), while the Piccadilly and Northern lines bring with them a certain level of dread.
Numbers and letters can't do this in the same way. Also, if New York continues with the policy of one character denotation, they're limited to 36 - unless they start introducing the likes of the Ampersand line - if so, I think I'd move just to use it. They've already used eight of the ten numbers (0 and 8 have failed to make the grade) and there are only nine letters remaining (H, I, K, O, P, T, U, X, Y). What did they do to get left out? London has the luxury of being able to add new lines until the cows come home. Whether it has the wherewithal, or whether London would collapse if there was any more tunnelling, is a different matter. (BTW, the tube currently goes under the Thames twelve times, with the Jubilee Line accounting for four of these.)
Back to my original point - when I arrived in London, I pretty quickly figured out the general layout of the tube system, the colours and names of the lines, even if I couldn't name every station. (I later grew what some would claim to be an unhealthy affection for the system.) I'm still struggling with the New York system, and I figure it will be a while before I master it.
A couple of things to ponder over lunch/ignore immediately after reading:
- Which station on the London Underground contains none of the letters from the word mackerel?
- Which two stations contain one instance of each of the five vowels?
See - there's another selling point for the London nomenclature!
