London Commutes That Never Quite Took Off

Last Updated 23 September 2024

London Commutes That Never Quite Took Off

From horses to Zoom meetings, the London commute is an ever-changing ritual. Here are a few methods of commuting that briefly existed, but which never really went anywhere...

Railway velocipede (1843)

Thousands of Londoners still get into work via velocipede today, whether a Santander cycle, scooter or any other kind of human-powered wheeled contraption. One way we can be pretty sure they AREN'T commuting in is by railway velocipede, i.e. a self-propelled vehicle that travels along the train tracks itself. It was a thing though, as the Gardeners' Chronicle reported in October 1843:

Last week. Mr. Braithwaite and another gentleman arrived at Brentwood from the Shoreditch station of the Eastern Counties Railway, each upon a four-wheel locomotive propelled by themselves, at the rate of at least twelve miles an hour. The name given to these novel carriages is 'Railway Velocipedes'.

Good for the environment no doubt, although think how sweaty you'd get, pedalling for your life with a speeding Overground train up your backside.

Atmospheric Railway (1844)

A piece of atmospheric railway
A fragment of atmospheric railway, at Croydon Museum. Image: Matt Brown/Londonist

For a brief moment, the Atmospheric Railway looked like it just might be the future of train travel. Pioneered by the Samuda brothers Joseph and Samuel, and running on a line between Forest Hill and West Croydon, the atmospheric trains were powered by a vacuum in a tube, which the train was connected to, and thereby propelled forwards. The trains were quick (70mph+), quiet and fuelless (well the trains themselves were, anyway — the system also called for whacking great coal-powered pumping stations peppered along the line). Even Isambard Kingdom Brunel took note, trialling his own atmospheric line in Devon.

Alas, there were major issues. The trains had a tendency to conk out and require a push from the passengers, only to then shoot off without said passengers. The atmospheric experiment was nixed in 1847, but in the meantime, thousands of Londoners had used it (or at least tried to use it) to get into work. See our longer feature about London's pneumatic railways.

Mechanical horse (late 19th century)

A mechanical horse
Not Annie Woods' mechanical horse, but perhaps it looked a little like this. Image: Frankie Lovato via creative commons

I'd have liked to have met the Victorian inventor Annie Wood, who numbered among her brainchilds 'Woodite', a buoyant, non-flammable, elastic product; and the mechanically-propelled lifeboat. Another of Wood's avant garde vehicular inventions was the mechanical horse, described as "a petroleum motor, in the shape of a horse — a horse cut off at the knees, it is true, but having so much the appearance of an ordinary, everyday horse that its appearance on the street, drawing a carriage or cart, is not expected to be in the slightest degree terrifying to the most mettlesome animal".

It instantly beings to mind the carriage with a horse's head from the movie Poor Things. What an image it is of Annie pootling around Mitcham Common on this thing. And what a pity commuter belt Victorians didn't take to the mechanical horse en masse.

Flying-fish car (1924)

The flying fish car
Image courtesy of the British Library Board

On Thursday 4 September 1924, Temple lawyers and barristers heard a strange sound from outside, and — peering out of their windows — clapped eyes on an even stranger sight. It was, as the London Daily Chronicle described it, "a motor-car resembling a fish on wheels" — the design of the German engineer Dr Rumpler Taube, which'd been brought over to London by another engineer, Mr J.B. Taunton. The car, Taunton told the press, was shaped like 'a drop of water falling through the air' to maximise wind resistance, although he wasn't sure if it actually worked. There were plans to market the car in Berlin, although as far as I know it never came to London in any great quantity. That said, was the 'flying-fish car' in fact a predecessor to the German 'bubble car', which ended up being manufactured in Croydon in the 1960s, and used by plenty of Londoners in their daily commute? The shape is certainly similar.

Light aircraft and helicopters (1920s)

A vision of future London from the 1920s with tall buildings and flying cars
London 2026 (as pictured in 1926 by Montague B Black).

In 1922, aircraft pioneer Frederick Handley Page — along with the not-at-all-hilariously-named Lord Allen Algernon Bathurst Apsley — suggested building an aerodome in Hyde Park, so that businessmen who lived in the countryside could zip into London in their light aircraft, touch down in the Royal Park then walk or car it into the office. There never was an aerodrome in Hyde Park, of course, although some well-to-do people did used to fly into Croydon.

Three years later, the Halifax Evening Courier was more on the money, when it wrote: "it is absolutely certain that... businessmen who wish to get to their office as quickly as possible will use helicopters which will permit them to land right in the middle of a street opposite their offices." Wealthy businessfolk do indeed helicopter into London Heliport in Vauxhall, though the chances of this becoming a commute option for the common man/woman = slim to nil.

Double-decker train (1949)

A double decker train carriage
One of the double-decker train carraiges at the Ashford Steam Centre, in October 1972. Image: Hugh Llewlyn in Creative Commons

Ever wondered why Brits don't have double-decker trains like many of their European counterparts? Actually, at the tail end of the 1940s they did, thanks to the SR Class 4DD. Running a route between London Charing Cross and Dartford, these two carriages (yes, they only made two) successfully increased passenger capacity, but were uncomfortable, while the service itself was slowed down because of the time it took for people to get on and off. So when did they ditch these awkward carriages, then — 1950? 1952? Er, it was in fact 1971.

The vista tube carriage (1950)

If you've ridden on an Amtrak service in the States you might've been lucky enough to have sat in the observation car — a wonderful way of taking in the sights. In 1950, London Transport experimented with the idea of a similar curved glass design for tube carriages on the Bakerloo line. The 'Vista' or 'Sunshine' car looked sleek, let in more sunlight and meant standing passengers didn't need to crane their necks in order to read the station sign. The experimental carriage then transferred to the Northern line in 1951, where it stayed in service for almost two decades. Alas, it was never rolled out across the network; a major drawback, as IanVisits writes, was that the glass let in too much sunlight during the summer, effectively turning the carriage into a greenhouse.

Naked routemaster (1961)

A silver Routemaster with a Daily Express ad on the side
Some X-rated Routemaster action for you. Image: calflier001 via creative commons

Not as saucy as it sounds, the 'Naked Routemaster' — aka the 'Silver Lady — was actually a money-saving exercise from London Transport, which saw a single 276 bus, running between Brixton and Tottenham, stripped of its paint, to save cash not just on the paint, but on the added weight and its fuel implications. The way things are going at the moment, perhaps Keir Starmer will bring the Naked Routemaster back into service. There's more on it here — again from IanVisits.

Roller skates (1962)

This entry's more of an excuse to show the folks at British Pathe having a bit of fun, although funnily enough, some Londoners really do get into work on their skates these days.

Amphibious Lambretta (1962)

Lambretta were not being entirely serious, perhaps, when they suggested that Londoners might start bypassing London's busy roads by taking to the Thames... on a scooter. Nevertheless, they did indeed roll out an amphibious Lambretta, and it did indeed take to the water. But as a previous article I wrote explains, the amphibious Lambretta didn't have a happy ending.

Bike bus (1963)

A black and white photo of a double decker bus, whose lower deck has been modified to carry lots of bikes
The Dartford Tunnel Cycle Service only lasted a couple of years, but you can still get a lift across the Dartford Crossing to this day. Image: public domain

When the Dartford Tunnel opened in November 1963, it was (quite rightly) deemed too dangerous for cyclists to use. The solution? The Dartford Tunnel Cycle Service — a specially-adapted bus on which cyclists could stash their wheels, and get a ride under the Thames. Alas, there were safety concerns about the bus too, and it folded in 1965. Interestingly, it may be that the 'bike bus' makes a return with the opening of the Silvertown Tunnel in 2025.

Tiny electric bikes (1966)

Electric bikes are all over the place these days, but an early attempt to popularise them came in 1966. Called Winn City Bikes, the miniature scooters had a top speed of 30mph, and a 20-mile range driven by a 12 volt battery. They were the brainchild of Mr Russell Winn, who played a part in designing ERNIE — the famous random number generator used by Premium Bonds. They never caught on. The bikes were too low to reliably show up in wing mirrors. Frankly, they also look silly.

Sinclair C5 (1985)

Alexandra Palace was the setting for the Sinclair C5's launch in January 1985, in which six of the electrically-assisted pedal capsules shot out of boxes, and were driven around by attractive women dressed in grey sci-fi boiler suits. The C5, claimed its creator Clive Sinclair, was the future of travel, and to prove the point, an infomercial showed another attractive woman gliding past the gates of Buckingham Palace in one of the contraptions.

Alas (I seem to be using that word a lot), the opening ceremony was probably the most fun anyone ever had in a Sinclair C5. They were dubbed a "plastic hip bath on wheels", and were ultimately spurned by the public, who didn't much fancy looking like a wally/being crushed beneath the wheels of a 10-ton truck. The only place you'll see a C5 now is the Science Museum.

Zorb (2018)

Someone Zorbing on the Thames under Waterloo Bridge
Someone Zorbing on the Thames, during the 2009 Thames Festival. Image: Steve Parkinson via creative commons

Remember when Zorbing was going to solve all our problems? Indeed, back in 2018, it looked like these huge plastic globes might be the answer to our commuting woes, when corporate hospitality company Team Tactics invited Londoners to Zorb their way into work. Well, we say into work, as Metro reported at the time, "you can stop zorbing anywhere along the route and don’t need to do the whole run." Anyone who did do the whole run, probably threw up all over their desk, and went straight home again. By taxi.

This article focuses on modes of transport which DID exist, although there's a good Guardian piece on outlandish schemes like the Circle Line Travelator, which never saw the light of day. And let's not forget the Oxford Street monorail which never happened, too.

Featured image: British Pathe