The music of a city

"When a train pulls into a great city I am reminded of the closing moments of an overture."

- Graham Greene, Travels with My Aunt

I love this Greene quote because I always have some sort of soundtrack running in my head, and it lets me know that I'm not the only person who does. And I mean having a soundtrack without a device stuck in my ears.

I don't get the opportunity to ride real trains very much - other than Atlanta's public transport trains, I mean. The only times I am a big-girl-train passenger is when I'm in the New York/New Jersey area on business, using commuter trains to get to and from the city and whenever I'm in England. My New York soundtrack is always Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue. Always. Whether pulling into Penn Station or walking through Chelsea or down Broadway - Rhapsody in Blue. The Gershwin piece, like NYC, is varied, has many tempos and rhythms.

London, though, doesn't have just one song; it depends on whether I'm walking along the South Bank or through Bloomsbury - the songs change. That said, London's Waterloo Station (which is where I enter the city, having traveled from my base in Walton-on-Thames) always brings two melodies to mind. Approaching the city coming through Vauxhall, it's Handel's Water Music. High-rises block the view of the river almost completely now on this approach, which is a shame. But every so often you get a little peek at the Thames. Once the train is in the cavernous station, I hear - you won't believe this - Annie's Song. But there's a story behind that.

Annie's Song Station, May 2005

In 1978 (after my time at Oxford), I took a summer course on the British system of Broadcasting. Long story. Anyway, I traveled daily between Walton and London, and one particular day I was running a little late and hit the rush-hour business traffic. Waterloo was packed and crazy, as usual. Leaving the main station for the train platform with hundreds of others pushing to reach their trains, a sound rose above the din and I will never forget it.

Rising above the noise, a lone British Rail porter started whistling John Denver's Annie's Song. This little guy had a real gift, too, I might say. A beautiful whistle. The tune bounced around that huge space (terrific acoustics for a champion whistler), and like magic the crowd got quieter and slowed down a little. I stopped in my tracks - it was just beautiful. And this porter - busy loading boxes onto a big trolley - had no idea that he had an entire big-city rush-hour crowd in his thrall. Or maybe he did. What a sound. I'll never forget it. It's my Waterloo Station melody, always.